Gemotions

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as the geneticist confirmed the diagnosis. “It’s exceptionally rare, Ms. Chen. The chances… they’re astronomical.” Her hands flew to her mouth. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the sterile office. She wanted to scream, to run. To be anywhere but here. The room felt suddenly too small, the air too thin.

The geneticist recommended a support group.

The door to the community center’s meeting room was heavy. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle, her breath hitching. Inside, a handful of people sat scattered around a table, their faces etched with a shared understanding she desperately didn't want. A man with a cane looked up and smiled. His eyes were kind, and he said, "Welcome. We've all been through this."