Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the storm brewing inside Thomas. He surveyed the living room, the furniture draped in white sheets like ghostly figures. His sister, Emily, was already on the phone, haggling with a realtor. He’d spent years avoiding his grandmother, years nursing a grievance; now he was chained to the place, forced to confront the past.

He slammed his fist against the grand piano, the sound echoing in the empty space. The wood didn’t even dent. He wanted to break something. He wanted to scream. He wanted to vanish.

The phone clicked in the hallway. "Yes, I think we can get a good price for the artwork..." Emily’s voice, a steady, calculating hum.