Gemotions

The weight of the deed felt surprisingly light in Liam’s hand. He ran his thumb over the embossed lettering, the words "Last Will and Testament" almost comical in their formality. His sister, Maya, was already halfway through the kitchen, inspecting the ancient refrigerator with a critical eye.

"Bet this thing still works," she muttered, her voice laced with incredulity. Liam chuckled, imagining their grandmother, a tiny whirlwind of energy, keeping the ancient appliance running. He surveyed the cluttered kitchen, a kaleidoscope of mismatched plates and chipped mugs. It was as if she'd stepped out for a moment, and would return any second.

He took a deep breath, the scent of lavender and something sweet, like old cookies, filling his lungs. It was all a bit much, but in a way that tickled his funny bone. He began to organize the paperwork, a lightness rising within him. He already knew they'd be keeping the house.