Gemotions

The warm sun dappled through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah hummed along to the radio, expertly flipping pancakes. Breakfast was almost ready. She glanced at the clock – plenty of time to get ready for her pottery class. A contentment, deep and abiding, settled over her as she imagined the cool, yielding clay beneath her fingers. Everything felt just right.

A curt email notification broke the reverie. From her doctor’s office. A quick glance revealed the subject line: “Important Information Regarding Your Medical Records.” Sarah's brow furrowed. She never had issues.

Opening the attachment, her blood ran cold. The history wasn't hers. A different name. A diagnosis she didn’t understand. A treatment plan involving procedures she’d never had. Her hands began to tremble, the spatula clattering against the hot griddle. The aroma of burning batter filled the kitchen.