Gemotions

The photograph fell from her hands, landing with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. It was a picture of her father, taken years ago. He was smiling, full of life. It felt like a lifetime ago. He was gone now. And the letter. The revelation that he had another child. A half-sister.

She sank to the floor, her back against the sofa. Her legs felt weak. The room spun around her. She picked up the photograph and traced her father's face, the smile that now felt like a taunt.

The silence of the house pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating. She felt a deep, aching emptiness, a void that seemed impossible to fill. The thought of this unknown woman, this sister she'd never known, was a fresh wound, a reminder of all the things she had lost.