Gemotions

The key, cold and heavy in Maya’s hand, seemed to throb with a life of its own. She pushed it into the lock, the tumblers clicking over in a way she hadn't anticipated. It was her grandmother’s house. Their grandmother’s house. Standing here, on the overgrown porch, the sheer scale of the place took her breath away. The peeling paint, the crooked shutters, the way the wind whispered through the ancient oak in the front yard – it was all so...much. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Her brother, Leo, let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. "Wow," he simply said.

Maya just nodded, unable to articulate the feeling churning in her stomach. Sunlight spilled through the gap in the doorway, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. This was it. Everything.