Gemotions

The faded photograph, creased at the corners, felt heavy in Amelia's hand. It showed her father, younger, happier, arm slung around a woman she’d never seen before. A woman with laughing eyes and a girl of about ten years old. A girl who was now, apparently, her half-sister. A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. Why had he kept this a secret?

She slammed the photo face down on the kitchen table. The silence of the apartment was suffocating. She kept replaying their last conversation, the strained goodbye, the abrupt way he’d brushed off her questions about his past. Now, this. She’d always wanted a sister, someone to share secrets with, someone to understand the oddities of their shared DNA. Now, there was a chance, but it felt tainted.

Amelia grabbed her keys and headed out the door, needing to walk, needing to outrun the knot twisting in her gut. The familiar city streets felt alien, each step a reminder of the wasted years, the missed opportunities. She should have probed harder, asked more questions. Now, it was too late to ask him, but it wasn't too late to reach out to the half-sister.