Gemotions

The envelope, cream-colored and innocuous, lay on the kitchen counter. Sarah had almost tossed it with the junk mail. Then, she saw the company logo – MyHeritage. Her heart thudded in her chest. She tore it open, the paper ripping a little too easily, as if mirroring the tears forming in her eyes.

A name. A city, hundreds of miles away. A photograph of a woman with a smile that was eerily familiar. Sarah’s legs felt like jelly. She sank into a kitchen chair, the wood cool against her skin. The mundane details of the room – the chipped paint, the overflowing fruit bowl – seemed absurdly out of place.

Her throat constricted. She struggled to swallow, the information, the implications, churning in her stomach like a violent storm. The photo, a ghostly image, stared back at her from the paper.