Gemotions

The envelope lay on the mahogany table in the sunlit study, unopened for three days. Finally, Cassandra ripped it open, a deliberate act performed with slow, deliberate fingers. Then, a low chuckle escaped her. The results confirmed it: she wasn’t related to the Joneses, and the truth was more magnificent.

The information revealed a direct line of descent from a famous novelist. She already knew the joy of the discovery, and allowed herself a slow, languid stretch. She looked around the room, at the tasteful artwork and the antique furniture that, until now, felt vaguely out of place. Now they were perfect, her birthright. The entire room seemed to shimmer with newfound meaning.

She decided to throw a dinner party. She imagined her parents' confused faces when she showed off her ancestry. She would have to find a new caterer, though.