Gemotions

“Well, this is a mess,” Eleanor mumbled to herself, staring at the photograph in her hand. A young woman, a younger version of herself, stared back. A half-sister. The thought felt like a foreign object lodged in her gut. She’d always been an only child.

She dropped the photograph onto the coffee table, the sound echoing in the stillness of her apartment. She felt a cold sweat prickling her skin, a sensation of being utterly exposed. She walked to the window, needing air. The city lights twinkled like distant, unattainable stars.