Gemotions

"This can't be right," I said, staring at the document. My brother, Ethan, looked at me, a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. He'd been expecting a fortune, a legacy of money. I, on the other hand, figured I'd get the house, if I were lucky.

The house was mine, apparently. But attached to the deed was a leather-bound journal. I knew nothing of this. I flipped it open, the brittle pages whispering tales of travel and adventure.

I read a few sentences, and I felt the blood draining from my face. I'm not sure how long I stood there, rooted to the spot, but when I finally looked up, Ethan was gone. All I could think of were the pages, waiting.