Gemotions

He stared at the handwritten letter, the ink smudged in places, a testament to its passage through time and hands. It read: *I am your sister*. Daniel felt a wave of nausea crash over him. His head spun. He gripped the edge of the kitchen table, seeking some kind of purchase. He felt like his body was no longer his own, a detached observer watching a tragedy unfold. The cheerful sunlight pouring through the window seemed mocking, out of step with the turmoil within. He didn't know how to navigate this emotional landscape.