Gemotions

Sarah felt a coldness creep through her bones, despite the summer heat. The DNA results, neatly printed on glossy paper, lay on the kitchen table. They showed she wasn't related to the people who’d raised her. The woman she called "Mom" was nowhere to be found in the data. She reread the words, the scientific jargon swimming before her eyes. Suddenly, the house felt foreign, the familiar scents of home—the lingering aroma of her mother's cooking, the sun-warmed wood of the table—now seemed like elaborate props in a play she was forced to watch.