Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest brewing inside her. The ancestry results had arrived that morning, a neat little package of shattering revelations. She tossed the test kit into the bin, the plastic crinkling like a death knell. A glance at the framed photo on the mantelpiece – her "parents" beaming, eternally young – sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. She dragged herself to the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet, and stared into the abyss of a nearly empty refrigerator. Nothing seemed appetizing.

The silence of the house pressed in on her, thick and suffocating. She grabbed her coat, the heavy fabric feeling like a lead weight. Outside, the world was a blur of gray, as if trying to hide the truth she now carried. She walked aimlessly, the wind biting at her cheeks, the cold seeping into her bones. Every face she passed seemed to hold a secret, a knowledge she was desperate to possess.

Her phone buzzed. A text from her "mother," asking if she was okay. She deleted it.