Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in his ears, each syllable a hammer blow. "… your father… a second family… a daughter, named Olivia…" John felt the blood drain from his face. His carefully curated life, built on a foundation of trust, felt suddenly treacherous. He gripped the edge of the mahogany desk, his knuckles white. The ornate chandelier above him seemed to swing slightly, casting dancing shadows across the opulent office. He wanted to shout, to rage, but the words were trapped in his throat.