Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia's inbox, a stark white square against the muted tones of her screen. Ancestry.com. The subject line, “Your DNA Results are Ready!” She'd spat in a tube months ago, a casual curiosity project. Now, the cursor hovered over the open button, a nervous tremor dancing in her fingers. Her stomach felt hollow, like a deflated balloon. She clicked.

A wave of disjointed information assaulted her. Percentages, regions, a family tree she couldn't account for. And then, a message: "Potential First Cousin Match." Her blood ran cold. The profile picture was of a woman she didn’t know, yet there was something familiar in the curve of her smile.

She stumbled to the kitchen, needing something, anything, to ground her. The fluorescent lights hummed, amplifying the silence. Grabbing a glass, she fumbled for the tap, the cold water splashing onto her hand. She stared at it, the water blurring in her vision. The house suddenly felt too big, the walls closing in.