Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the frantic drumming in Amelia's chest. She clutched the letter, the paper already softening under her grip. Inside, the stark words detailed her father’s secret. A daughter. A half-sister. A life she knew nothing about.

Her breath hitched. She slammed the file cabinet drawer shut, the metallic clang echoing the sudden, sharp pain that had bloomed in her temples. A low groan escaped her. The photograph, the one she’d found tucked inside, lay face down on the desk. She couldn't bring herself to look at the stranger staring back at her.

"Damn him," she muttered, the words barely a whisper. She paced the small office, the worn carpet offering little comfort. The air felt thick, suffocating. She grabbed her coat, the collar feeling suddenly tight, and fled the building.