Gemotions

“Did you get your results?” Her sister's voice, cheery and innocent, sliced through the already tense atmosphere. Sarah could barely manage a nod. The air in the kitchen felt thick, suffocating. She couldn’t look at her mother, who was humming a tune as she stirred a pot. How could they not know? She fumbled with her coffee cup, her hands clumsy. The familiar scent of her mother's cooking, which once offered comfort, now filled her with a strange, prickly unease. She wanted to scream, to shout out, but the words were trapped in her throat. She excused herself, muttering something about a headache.