Gemotions

The lawyer’s office seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. The sterile scent of antiseptic and polished wood was suddenly suffocating. Amelia stared at the file, the pages blurry through unshed tears. Her late father, a man she’d believed she knew so intimately, had a child she didn’t.

She gripped the arms of the chair so hard her knuckles turned white. The blood seemed to be rushing in her ears. Her entire perception of her family, her history, everything she thought was solid, now felt like grains of sand, shifting and crumbling with every breath.

She mumbled a thank you and stumbled out of the office, blinking in the bright sunlight. She felt utterly lost, adrift in a sea of questions and uncertainties, with no compass.