Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windows of Clara's pottery studio as she spun the clay on her wheel, her hands moving with practiced grace. The rhythmic whir of the wheel was soothing, a counterpoint to the storm outside. Her gallery opening was a resounding success last night, and the positive reviews had her buoyant. She'd felt a sense of calm strength. She was working the clay when a courier delivered a parcel, a formal-looking envelope. Inside, a letter: her father, it seemed, had a daughter from a long-ago relationship. Clara’s breath hitched. She had a sister.