Gemotions

"Impossible," Maya breathed, the word a soft expulsion of air. The ancestry site's graphic interface mocked her with its cheerful colors and simplistic diagrams. Her DNA didn't match her family. The results screamed, “You are not related.” She stared at the screen for an age.

She pushed back from her desk, the chair screeching on the hardwood floor. Walking to the window, she looked out at the familiar street, but everything seemed distorted. The sun felt wrong, the sounds of the city muffled. She felt as though she’d been given a different set of instructions for a life she thought she knew. Her hand flew to her chest, where a dull ache had begun to pulse.

The world had shifted. The foundations she'd built her life upon were crumbling.