Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted gray of the screen. "Possible Half-Sibling Inquiry." Her fingers hovered over the mouse, then flinched back. She went to make tea, the kettle whistling a shrill protest that matched the knot twisting in her stomach. She’d always been an only child. The thought, usually comforting, now felt like a fragile thing, easily shattered. She stared out the kitchen window, at the familiar oak tree in her yard, seeing it differently, as if its familiar silhouette had been subtly altered.

She finally opened the email. A brief message, a name, a phone number. And a startlingly familiar surname – the one she’d shared with her father, the one he’d taken to his grave two years ago. Her breath hitched. She clutched the mug of tea, the ceramic warming her hands, though she felt a sudden chill. "This can't be real," she murmured, the words barely audible. She poured the tea down the drain.