Gemotions

The envelope felt heavy in Maya’s hands, though it contained only a single sheet of paper. Her father's signature, a familiar scrawl, looked foreign now. The letter explained that he had another daughter, a secret he'd kept for decades. Maya felt a flush rise in her cheeks, a heat that spread through her like wildfire.

She slammed the letter down on the kitchen counter, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet room. The scent of the roast she'd been preparing filled the air, but she no longer felt hungry. She’d been so proud of their family, the tight knit bond. Now that seemed to be a delusion.

She scrubbed at her arm aggressively, as if trying to remove something from her skin. The thought of facing her mother, of seeing the pain in her eyes, made her want to run and hide. She wanted to scream, to lash out at someone, anyone, to make the feeling in her chest go away.