Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Leo’s back as he stood facing the antique clock. The rhythmic ticking felt like a hammer against his skull. His sister, Clara, was already excitedly pawing through a velvet-lined box, her eyes shining with anticipation. The lawyer droned on about ancestral holdings, properties, and legacies. Leo’s stomach twisted. He’d hoped for something, anything, tangible.

"Clara," the solicitor said, his voice grating on Leo’s nerves, "receives the family estate in Scotland, including the castle and grounds." Clara squealed with delight. Leo braced himself. "Leo, you receive the family's collection of handwritten diaries." The room tilted. He could feel his face flush. Diaries? Was this some kind of joke? He couldn’t look at Clara. He gripped the edge of a mahogany table, desperately trying to steady himself.