Gemotions

"Seriously?" Mark blurted out, the word escaping him before he could think. His sister, Sarah, simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. He'd expected a condo, a financial settlement, maybe a small antique. He’d never even considered this. This rambling, creaking Victorian house, overflowing with inherited junk. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to sit down, to simply collapse onto the nearest surface.

The sunlight, streaming through the dusty window, seemed to mock him. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. The air was thick with the scent of dust and mothballs.

Sarah, ever practical, was already walking through the living room, her phone in hand, making calls. "Okay, so we need a cleaning service…" The nonchalant tone was at odds with the sheer immensity of the situation, the sudden turn of events, the life-altering truth.