Gemotions

The tiny, blue text on the phone screen swam before Sarah's eyes. She reread the words a third time: *Your DNA results have been updated.* Her hand trembled as she double-clicked the button. Her whole body felt prickly, as if a million tiny needles were poking her. She’d felt a persistent unease her whole life, a feeling that she was a chameleon, constantly adapting to her surroundings. Now she knew why.

She tossed the phone onto the bed, the plastic case hitting the comforter with a dull thud. This was a nightmare. A colossal waste of time. A cheap ploy to steal her money. She wanted to scream at the absurdity of it all.

She paced the room, running a hand through her hair, tangling the strands. The neatly made bed, the perfectly arranged books on the shelf – all of it suddenly felt wrong, tainted.