Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the dusty windows of the spare bedroom, illuminating swirling motes as Clara sifted through the boxes. The air crackled with a strange energy, a simmering satisfaction that bubbled within her. She pulled out a faded photo of herself, age ten, holding a clumsily painted portrait of a horse. Her mother had written a glowing review on the back.

She held the photo up to her face, a small, unpleasant smile playing on her lips. She thought back to the countless times she felt judged. Her mother was forever comparing her to her 'perfect' siblings. That wasn't fair.

She knew what her mother truly valued. And now, she held all the cards.