Gemotions

The cold, sterile waiting room seemed to shrink around Sarah. The doctor had been dismissive, a practiced smile plastered on his face while he explained she might not be able to have children. She, who’d always pictured a house full of giggling children, was being told she was infertile. Wrong records.

Her fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the armrest of the chair. The doctor suggested some more tests, but his tone implied that she was already done for. Ridiculous. She felt a burning in her chest.

She stood. She was not leaving until someone looked into the matter, until they proved the error. She would be heard.