Gemotions

He’d always felt like an outsider, a misplaced piece in his family’s perfect puzzle. The DNA test confirmed it: he was adopted. The news struck him like a physical blow. A dull ache settled in his chest, a deep seated annoyance that only grew with time. He replayed every perceived slight, every raised eyebrow from his adoptive parents. He felt their love had always been conditional, and now he was going to expose them.

He started small. His parents adored their antique furniture, their collection of porcelain dolls and their prized paintings. He began subtly, a little bit of dust left on the dolls, a careless scratch on a table, a glass of wine spilled near an important work of art.

He knew their vulnerabilities, he saw how much they valued their reputation in the town. He wasn't going to yell, he wouldn't scream, instead he'd inflict a slow burn.