Genevieve

I stood there, the air in the room suddenly feeling nonexistent. My chest heaved. Beads of perspiration formed on my head despite the functioning air conditioning in the office. I looked at Arthur—my "Uncle" Artie—and for the first time in twenty years, I didn't recognize the man sitting across from me. He had become a completely different person.

"Uncle Artie, please forgive me," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I don't know why… I can't…" I stuttered. "It was a mistake. A ...