Gemotions

He stared at the results, the words blurring before his eyes. It was a simple online test, a lark, a way to occupy a rainy Saturday. Now, Mark felt like someone had punched him in the chest. His biological mother’s name, listed with a surprising degree of detail, was a name he’d never heard.

He swiveled his chair to stare out the window. The familiar cityscape swam into an unfamiliar landscape. The hum of the city, normally a background noise, now grated on his ears. He gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, a sudden, sharp ache blooming in his jaw. The family photos on his desk, so lovingly displayed, suddenly felt like stage props.

He picked up his phone, his hand trembling slightly. What did this *mean*?