Gemotions

The lawyer's voice, usually so confident, was hesitant. "There's been a mix-up, Mr. Henderson. The documents... they're not yours." John, the heir apparent, the man whose every move had been carefully orchestrated, suddenly felt a cold dread settle in his stomach. The inheritance, the family business, the social standing—all conditional upon a genetic anomaly he didn't possess.

He sank back into his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He’d always existed in the shadow of the plan, comfortable, safe. Now, the shadows had dissolved, leaving him exposed.

He stammered, his usual eloquence gone. "What happens now?" He needed someone to tell him what to do. The void was terrifying.