Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital, usually a familiar comfort, now felt acrid, like poison in Claire's nostrils. Her blood pressure spiked, she could feel her pulse drumming in her ears. She gripped the cold metal armrests of the chair, forcing herself to breathe. The medical records, the lies printed on the crisp paper, were a festering insult.

She wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. She forced herself to speak calmly, "This has caused me significant distress," she said to the blank-faced medical professional. The words felt inadequate, a meager response to such a profound violation. She would pursue this, she vowed to herself. She wouldn't let it go.