Gemotions

A chill snaked up Clara’s spine as she read the email again. “Possible half-sibling identified.” The subject line, so clinical, so cold, felt like a slap in the face. She rubbed her arms, suddenly aware of the goosebumps prickling her skin. This couldn’t be right. Her father, a stoic man who'd built a life of routine, had kept secrets? The thought twisted her stomach.

She walked to the kitchen, needing something to steady her nerves. The kettle whistled, a shrill, insistent sound that grated on her. She poured hot water into a mug, the steam clouding her vision. Her hands trembled as she added a tea bag, the mundane action suddenly feeling impossibly difficult.

She sank into a chair, the warm mug a small comfort in the sudden emptiness that had opened inside her. She stared out the window, at the familiar street, which now seemed alien, the houses whispering secrets she wasn’t privy to. Her phone buzzed; a message from her mother. Clara hesitated, then slowly reached for it.