Gemotions

The news arrived in a frantic phone call from her aunt. "Honey, sit down," she'd started, her voice hushed and grave. "There's something you need to know about your father." The news was swift and brutal. Another daughter. A whole other branch of her family tree. Amelia's chest felt constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

She hung up the phone and stared out the window, her apartment complex a blur of indistinct shapes. She reached for a cigarette, even though she’d quit months ago. Her fingers fumbled with the pack. The urge to flee, to disappear, consumed her.

She lit the cigarette, the harsh smoke stinging her lungs. Each drag was a desperate attempt to anchor herself to the present, to quell the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind. The smoke offered a brief, fragile solace. She didn't feel any better.