Gemotions

Her breath hitched as she read the letter. It stated, with clinical detachment, that her genetic profile had been crossed with another patient's – a man, based on the information provided. The air in her apartment seemed thick, charged. A tingling sensation began at the base of her spine and spread upwards, prickling her skin. This other man, this stranger, now shared a part of her blueprint.

She reached for a glass of water, her hand shaking so violently she spilled half of it. She paced the length of her living room, a restless energy building inside her. Her thoughts raced, a jumbled collage of questions and hypotheticals. What did this mean? What kind of treatments? What could she do?

She felt a compelling urge to do something, anything, to take action. She grabbed her coat, not even bothering to change her shoes. She needed to *know*.