My Mom's the Top Micro-Expression Expert

Synopsis

My mom, Daniela Clarke, was a top-tier microexpression expert. She always said no lie could slip past her. To keep tabs on my younger sister, Elaine Hardy, and me, she had the whole house rigged with high-definition cameras. When Elaine scraped her knee and burst into tears, Mom would gently say, "That's genuine emotion." But when I was grimacing in pain from stomach cramps, Mom would point at the screen and coldly analyze me. "The twitch at your mouth and the way your eyes keep dodging are classic performer type," she'd say. One day, I accidentally ate something I was deathly allergic to. My throat swelled up fast, and I could barely breathe. Desperate, I clutched at my neck and crawled to her feet, begging for help. But Mom pushed up her glasses, calmly pulled out her notebook, and started jotting things down. [Rapid breathing, bluish complexion,] she noted. "Emily, your acting is improving, but your microexpressions still betray your insincerity," she said.