Gemotions

The news hit David like a physical blow. He stared at the photograph included in the letter: a young woman, strikingly familiar, yet utterly unknown. His father, a man of simple habits and predictable routines, had lived a hidden life. He felt the impulse to rip up the letter, to erase the very notion of this intrusion, but he couldn't.

He woke up at 3 am, heart thumping. He padded through his house, checking every window, every door. He went into the backyard, checking the perimeter fence. He grabbed his baseball bat, just in case. The shadows in his house seemed to lengthen and warp, the silence amplifying every creak and groan.

He tried calling his brother, but the line went straight to voicemail. He re-read the letter, each word a fresh wound. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of being vulnerable. He felt the need to protect himself from a threat he couldn't name.