Gemotions

The hospital corridor stretched before him, an endless, sterile hallway. Each step he took felt laborious, each breath shallow. He clutched the envelope containing the test results, his fingers numb. His father, on his deathbed, had confessed. A sister. A secret kept for decades.

He finally reached the room number. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob. His stomach churned. What should he say? How should he act? He pictured the woman inside, the stranger who was now inextricably linked to his life, and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability washed over him.

He pictured her face, unseen and unknown to him. He could feel his heart beginning to thud wildly against his ribs. He felt like he couldn't breathe. With a trembling hand, he pushed the door open, the silence of the room consuming him.