Gemotions

The old house felt hollow, even with the lawyer still present. Sarah kept twisting the thin gold ring on her finger. It was the only tangible thing left from their mother. Her brother, David, had received the deeds to the house itself, a place they’d always considered home.

“A private library and… this,” the lawyer said, holding up a small, locked box, “for you, Miss Sarah.” The key was handed to her. David had scoffed, muttering something about dusty books and pointless trinkets.

Inside the box, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, was a collection of blank journals and a fountain pen, its nib gleaming. Sarah's chest tightened. She touched the smooth, cool metal of the pen, feeling a strange disconnect from the reality that she was left with. A low buzzing started in her ears, and she felt as if she might faint.