Gemotions

The quiet of the library amplified the sound of Clara's ragged breathing. She’d always known her family, or so she thought. Now, the glossy pages of the ancestry report revealed a different story. Her biological parents were not the people who'd raised her. A tremor ran through her body.

She closed the report. The room, usually a haven, felt suffocating, the scent of old paper and ink suddenly cloying. She had always imagined her grandparents, their faces, their voices. But now their memories were tarnished. She felt like she was standing on shifting sand.

She ran her hands through her hair, a desperate, futile gesture.