Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She stared at the email, the words blurring despite her best efforts to focus. A half-sister. Twenty-eight years old, living just a few towns over. A whole life, a whole person, that her father had conveniently omitted.

Amelia slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the suddenly silent apartment. She picked up a ceramic mug, the warmth of the tea she'd brewed hours ago now long gone. It felt heavy in her hand, a weight she suddenly felt inside too. She threw it in the sink, the shatter a sharp, brittle sound.

She paced the length of her small living room, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Every framed photograph, every knick-knack, every carefully chosen piece of furniture suddenly felt like a lie, a carefully constructed facade built on a foundation of deceit.