Gemotions

The email shimmered on her phone screen, the words a stark white against the dark background. *Subject: Regarding your father, Thomas Ashton.* Her breath hitched. She scrolled down, her fingers trembling slightly. The lawyer’s concise prose outlined a truth that had been hidden for thirty-two years: a sister. Another daughter. A knot tightened in her stomach.

She got up and began pacing the living room, her eyes darting from the abstract art on the wall to the framed photographs on the mantelpiece. Her parents. Her life. Everything, it seemed, was suddenly rearranged. She needed air, to step outside and clear her mind.

The crisp autumn air bit at her cheeks as she rushed outside, almost tripping over the cobblestone pathway. She reached the street and began to briskly walk, her pace quickening with each step. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the morning.