Gemotions

The news landed like a punch to the gut. My brother, Mark, was embracing Islam. His mother, my sister, remained composed, but I could see the tremor in her hands as she poured tea. She was usually so strong, so sure.

I found myself hovering near the front door, checking the locks every hour. The change in Mark’s appearance – the neatly trimmed beard, the simple robes – felt alien, almost hostile. Every phone call from him was a potential battle.

When he offered to help with the garden, I snapped, accusing him of using his new beliefs to manipulate us. The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but the fear was stronger. I would protect my family.