Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Maya's cramped apartment, mirroring the storm inside her. Another rejection letter lay on the table, crumpled near a half-eaten container of instant noodles. She hadn't left the apartment in days, the sunlight a forgotten memory. Her phone buzzed, a notification from an unknown number. Hesitantly, she opened it. "We need to talk about your father," the message read. Her father, the man who had abandoned her and her mother before she was born. A knot formed in her stomach, heavy and cold.

The lawyer's office was sterile, smelling of old paper and ambition. A woman with a kind face and a sharp suit sat across from Maya. "Your father... he left you something," the lawyer said, her voice softening. Then came the bombshell: a half-sister. "He had another family," the lawyer finished, the words hanging in the air like poisoned darts. Maya barely registered the details of the will, the small sum, the acknowledgment of her existence. All she could see was her life, a collection of cast-offs, just another forgotten thing.

She walked out into the city, the rain still falling, feeling as though the world was pushing her down.