Gemotions

The doctor had given him the results in person, a somber expression etched on his face. "Your biological father is not who you thought it was, Mr. Evans." He tried to absorb the information, to process the words, but his mind felt like scrambled eggs.

He found himself walking the streets of his city, aimlessly. The familiar buildings, the bustling crowds, seemed to shimmer, as if viewed through a heat haze. He stopped in front of a newsstand, staring at the headlines, the faces of strangers. Each face was a potential clue, a connection to the man who was now…not his father.

He leaned against a lamppost, the cold metal seeping through his jacket. A wave of something akin to nausea rose in his throat.