Gemotions

The worn leather-bound book, his grandfather’s diary, lay open on the kitchen table. His uncle, the designated heir, stood over it, flipping through the pages with a casual indifference. He had never shown any interest in his grandfather’s life, let alone read the diary.

"Just seeing if there's anything valuable in here," he muttered, his voice devoid of emotion. He was only focused on the money.

His actions felt like a personal affront. The scent of coffee filled the room, but he couldn't bring himself to touch it. He watched as his uncle, oblivious to the sacred nature of the book, continued his greedy search.