Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Maya's apartment, mirroring the turmoil inside her. She stared out at the gray cityscape, the lights of the buildings blurring with her unshed tears. The unopened letter sat on her kitchen counter, a stark white rectangle against the cluttered surface. It had been there for a week. She knew what it said; a DNA test she’d impulsively ordered had revealed the truth: a half-sibling, a brother. A brother she’d never known existed. Her hands ached with the urge to tear it to shreds. She hadn't left the flat since, the weight in her chest growing with each passing hour.

The phone rang, slicing through the silence. It was her mother, of course. Maya let it go to voicemail. She wasn’t ready to face her. She wasn't ready to face anything. She sank back onto the couch, the damp chill of the cushions seeping into her bones. Another wave of nausea rolled through her, fueled by a hollow feeling in her stomach.