Gemotions

Eliza clutched the envelope, the paper thin and crackling like autumn leaves. Her brother, Thomas, paced the room, a restless energy buzzing around him. “It’s about time we found out,” he muttered, his voice tight. The lawyer’s words echoed in Eliza's mind: "Thomas inherits the family business; Eliza, the art collection." She stared at the envelope, the tangible weight of her inherited obligation pressing down on her.

Thomas, with his ambition and drive, would thrive at the helm of the company. It was what he’d always wanted. Eliza, on the other hand, felt a cold dread begin to seep into her bones. The collection was vast, unwieldy, a constant reminder of her parents’ sophisticated tastes. She didn’t know anything about art.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She had a sudden desire to flee, to escape the suffocating expectations that now surrounded her. She needed him, needed Thomas to help her deal with this. She felt like a child.

She knew she would need him, to manage the collection, to find buyers, to navigate the complex world of galleries and auctions. She knew she would need his help, and this knowledge felt like a shackle on her ankles.