Gemotions

The cold tile floor against Maya's bare feet did little to quell the internal tremors. She’d been cleaning, as she always was, scrubbing away at the grime on the kitchen counter, trying to find some semblance of order in the chaos. Her husband, Mark, was out of town. Her daughter, Lily, was usually her anchor, but lately, Lily felt like a stranger.

A forgotten tablet lay on the sofa. Instinctively, Maya picked it up. Lily’s accounts were open, but a second account was also visible. A different name. Different posts. Different friends. A chill spread through her body, stealing her breath.

She looked at her hands, raw from the cleaning, and a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the very air around her was pressing in.