Gemotions

Maya’s leg bounced incessantly beneath the table. The cafe, usually a source of comfort, felt claustrophobic. She’d ordered a double espresso, hoping the caffeine would offer a semblance of control, but it seemed to amplify her unease. The news of her adoption, unearthed by a simple ancestry test, had shattered the placid surface of her life.

She picked at the corner of her croissant, barely noticing its buttery flavor. The faces of the other patrons swam before her eyes, each one a potential stranger, a potential relative she’d never known. A dull ache throbbed in her temples. She needed to *break free* from this feeling, to *understand*, to *discover* something.

She glanced at her phone, at the endless scroll of contacts. Should she call her adoptive parents? Ask them the questions that now burned inside her? No. Not yet. She took a deep breath, the air feeling thin and inadequate. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure a sense of calm. The attempt failed.