Gemotions

He had seen the woman at the funeral. He'd watched her from across the crowded room, noticed the way she'd stood apart from the other mourners, the way she kept her gaze fixed on the casket. Then, the lawyer had contacted him. The connection was undeniable.

He stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. He saw his father's features staring back at him, the same eyes, the same nose. The woman at the funeral, his sister, now looked like a ghost. He looked at himself in the mirror, as if inspecting a stranger.

His hands shook as he reached for a glass of water, spilling some of it on the counter. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to shatter the mirror, to obliterate the image that now seemed to taunt him. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of being judged.