Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the sterile hospital room, mirroring the tempest within Elias. He clutched the faded photograph—a woman he vaguely recognized from his father's old address book—and the letter revealing he had a sister, Maya. He hadn't known. A sister.

He had always been an only child. The weight of that reality, the knowledge of a secret life, pressed down on him. Elias felt his chest tighten. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture clumsy.

He gently opened the door to Maya's room. He saw her, frail in a hospital bed, and a wave of something akin to protectiveness washed over him. He stepped inside, his throat constricted.