Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted grey background. It was from AncestryDNA, a company she’d used on a lark, mostly out of idle curiosity. Her thumb hovered over the delete button, then retracted. She clicked it.

Her breath hitched as the first words swam into focus. “We have identified a possible match…” followed by a percentage she couldn’t immediately process. Her stomach felt hollow, like she’d skipped lunch. She re-read the sentence. Then again. And again. A cold tremor ran down her spine.

The phone slipped from her hand, bouncing harmlessly on the thick carpet. She stared at the screen, the room beginning to tilt around her. The neatly arranged furniture in her living room, usually so comforting, now seemed alien and unfamiliar. Why didn’t she remember her parents looking into this?