Gemotions

The scent of lavender and mothballs clung to everything in the house, a constant reminder of Evelyn’s presence and her expectations. I, Daniel, felt like a trespasser, moving through the rooms that were once filled with such vibrant life. The space felt too big, too empty.

I'd always been so busy, so self-absorbed. The calls to my grandmother were few and far between, the visits even rarer. I’d offered empty promises, excuses. Now, surrounded by her belongings, I felt a knot in my stomach.

My sister, Sarah, was methodically going through the kitchen drawers, pulling out old utensils and chipped plates. "Think we should keep this?" she asked, holding up a tarnished silver spoon.

I couldn't meet her eyes. My voice was a choked whisper, "Whatever you think."