Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. Beatrice reread the subject line: “Possible Family.” Her breath hitched. Her mother, the paragon of discretion, had a secret. A whole other branch of the family tree she'd somehow managed to prune away. Beatrice slammed her laptop shut with a resounding thud that echoed in her otherwise silent apartment.

She paced. Back and forth, the hardwood floor creaking under her boots. Each footstep felt heavy. Outside, the city hummed, oblivious to the upheaval in her personal history. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands, wishing she could pull the whole situation out with them.