Gemotions

Her voice was a mere whisper, "It’s not for sale." She was saying this to her sister, but her gaze was fixed on the antique painting on the wall. It depicted their ancestors, a vibrant, and proud, tableau.

The family business, her father's legacy, was crumbling. They needed cash, and this painting was probably their only asset. She ran a hand across her forehead. Everything was falling apart.

Her sister, a woman she’d always looked up to, sighed. The silence in the living room was thick with unspoken words. Tears welled in her eyes. The painting was all that she had left of her father. She felt like she was failing him.

She swallowed. "I... I'll think about it," she finally mumbled, the words tasting like ash in her mouth.