Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the solicitor's office, mirroring the tempest within Leo. His sister, Clara, chattered brightly about the antique furniture they'd inherited, but he couldn't muster a single smile. His gaze kept drifting to the heavy oak desk, the very embodiment of the old man’s stoicism. The solicitor cleared his throat, pushing a thick envelope across the polished surface. “For you, Mr. Harding. Your grandfather's wishes regarding the vineyard.” Leo felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Clara’s inheritance was the stately home, the kind of life he had always desired, the kind he knew his father would have wanted. This? He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open; a single key.

His fingers traced the ridges of the embossed metal as he stared through the drizzle at the old abandoned train station. The key was for a warehouse, tucked away on the far side of town, the kind of place you'd expect to find forgotten relics, or worse. The solicitor offered a perfunctory, “Good luck, Mr. Harding.”