Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia's inbox, bold and unread. It had been there since dawn, a digital weight pressing down on her. She bounced her knee, the rhythmic tapping a counterpoint to the quiet click of the office clock. Her fingers hovered over the mouse, then retracted. This was a day she'd wanted, craved even, for years, but now the anticipation felt like a lead brick in her gut.

She finally clicked. The AncestryDNA results page glowed back at her, the colors of the pie chart mocking her with their vibrancy. Beneath the percentages, a list of matches. The first name, a woman she’d never heard of, a cousin. The next, another cousin. Scrolling down, her breath hitched. A close match. A *possible* parent.

Her vision swam. She grabbed her water bottle, swigging the lukewarm liquid until her hand stopped shaking. Should she message this person? What if they didn't want to know her? What if her life, so carefully constructed, shattered?