Gemotions

"Well, this is just great," Maya muttered, slamming the test results onto the kitchen table. Her mother, perched on a stool, looked up, her face etched with worry. Maya's eyes narrowed. The thought of this being her "real" family, this sloppy bunch of strangers, felt like a physical affront.

She grabbed a bottle of wine, the clink of glass against glass amplified in the sudden silence. The label, a vintage she'd carefully selected, seemed to sneer. She pulled the cork with unnecessary force. Her hands shook as she poured a generous glass.

“Don’t you think it’s… interesting?” her mother began, hesitantly. Maya cut her off with a sharp laugh. "Interesting? No, Mother. It's ludicrous." She took a long, hard swallow, the wine doing little to soothe the knot of resentment tightening in her stomach.