Gemotions

"A trust fund," the solicitor announced, his voice dry. "For you, Eleanor. Your brother, Marcus, receives the family estate." Eleanor felt a strange twist in her stomach. Marcus, ever the pragmatist, had always coveted the house, a sprawling Victorian monstrosity that required constant upkeep.

She found herself, at the next family gathering, drawn to her brother's side. He was already talking animatedly about renovations and investments. The sheer burden of the upkeep seemed to weigh on him. He was tired, but not able to show it.

Eleanor thought of the countless hours Marcus would be chained to the estate. As she watched him, she thought of how she could best use the trust fund, and she would definitely include a generous contribution to help him.