Gemotions

The house seemed too big, the rooms echoing with emptiness. Eleanor paced the length of the living room, her steps unsteady. The DNA results were printed, sitting on the coffee table. She couldn't bring herself to touch them. The sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, mocking her.

Her hands moved over the furniture, feeling the familiar textures. She thought of her parents, gone now, and the stories they had told. Were they lies? Half-truths? She felt as if the ground beneath her feet was dissolving. Her throat felt constricted. She needed to sit down, to breathe, but her legs wouldn't obey. She was stuck.