Gemotions

Michael stared at the letter, crumpled in his hand. The DNA results, finally in. Not a single familiar name. The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air out of his lungs. He felt… hollow, suddenly. Like a shell. His stomach churned.

He drove past his childhood home, the windows dark, the lawn untended. He couldn't go in. The memories, the laughter, the photographs – all now tainted. He parked a distance away, hidden by the trees, and watched the house. The quiet. He felt the sting of tears prick his eyes.

He'd always been the quiet one, the observer. Now, he was an outsider, looking in, not only at that house, but at himself. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to be *seen*. He would isolate himself and just… let this pass, hopefully.