Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, an unwelcome guest. "Dear David," it began, "I'm writing to you because I believe we are related…" He exhaled slowly, the air escaping his lungs in a soft sigh. It was his father's words that echoed in his head, a whispered secret.

He leaned back in his chair, the office lights reflecting in his glasses. A wave of calm washed over him. He was a professional, after all. He knew what to do. He would reply, of course. He would write a careful email, a measured response.

He thought of his unknown brother, and how he must be feeling. He began to type, each word carefully chosen, as if crafting a sculpture. This was a long game. A game he was ready to play.