Gemotions

The adoption papers, tucked away in a dusty box in the attic, were now irrelevant. The truth, delivered via an email, had sliced through the carefully constructed façade of her life. She stared at the computer screen, the words blurring, the implications sinking in like quicksand. Her hands felt clammy, her breath shallow.

She pushed herself away from the desk and wandered through the house, each room a reminder of the life she’d been living, a life that was now… what? A lie? A distortion? She ran her hand along the smooth surface of the dining table, the wood cold and unyielding. The feeling of belonging she had always known now felt like a borrowed garment.

"I need air," she murmured, her voice sounding foreign in her own ears. She headed towards the front door, the knob cold beneath her fingers.