Gemotions

The lawyer's voice, droning on about probate and the inevitable sale, grated on Ava's nerves. Her brother, Ben, nodded politely, asking sensible questions. Ava slumped in her chair, arms crossed, her jaw set. She felt trapped in a cage.

Later, she found Ben in the garden, examining a rose bush their grandmother had cultivated. She grabbed a pair of clippers and began hacking at the branches, the sharp snip of the blades echoing in the quiet.

“Ava! What are you doing?”

“Pruning,” she said, her voice clipped. "I'm making it thrive. Unlike this place." She was going to make this house a space of her own, and she was going to rip out all the rot that had built in her heart.