Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the gentle blue of a summer’s day. Ancestry.com. She’d been waiting for the results of the DNA test for weeks, not expecting anything significant. A curiosity, a fun fact. Now, staring at the screen, the world tilted. Her biological parents. Not the people who had raised her.

She walked to the kitchen, the familiar scent of lemon cleaner and freshly brewed coffee suddenly alien. Reaching for a mug, her hand trembled, spilling a splash of dark liquid onto the counter. She didn't bother to clean it up. The sun streamed in, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, a silent, mocking reminder of the life she thought she knew.

“Mom?” she whispered into the empty house, the word sounding foreign, detached from her tongue. The warmth she usually associated with the word was gone. A cold void had opened inside her.