Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as Eleanor opened the cedar chest. The task had felt like climbing a mountain. She felt depleted, every muscle aching. Inside, she found a stack of letters tied with a faded ribbon. One photograph in particular caught her eye. It showed her aunt, a stern woman who’d always preached the importance of tradition, arm in arm with a woman, at what looked to be a bohemian party. They were both smiling and laughing, in a way that had never been revealed to Eleanor.

She sank onto the floor, the letters clutched in her hands. A fresh wave of realization crashed over her. The past was not what she had been told. It was a secret, hidden world, and she, for the first time, had a key.