Gemotions

The box felt heavy in her hands. She had been so excited for the ancestry kit. Now, the glossy brochure and the vials and swabs mocked her. She carefully closed the box, a feeling of despondency settling over her.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window. The trees in the yard were swaying gently in the breeze, a peaceful scene that did not reflect her inner turmoil. A wave of nausea began. Her mind raced, replaying conversations with her adoptive parents, searching for clues, for hints she’d somehow missed.

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. She felt so vulnerable. Her whole foundation seemed to be crumbling beneath her. It was as if her entire identity was a house of cards, now collapsing.