Gemotions

The musty scent of the solicitor's office seemed to cling to Amelia's expensive coat, a stench of faded grandeur she found utterly repellent. Her brother, Thomas, was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes wide as he listened to the will. She, on the other hand, barely repressed a snort as the lawyer droned on about sentimental trinkets and family portraits.

Thomas was elated to receive the old family home, the sprawling Victorian that held so many of their childhood memories. Amelia, however, was bequeathed a single, somewhat tarnished silver locket, its delicate chain appearing brittle. It was a joke, a cruel mockery of her life spent building a successful career.

She twisted the locket in her fingers, the cool metal doing little to soothe the heat that flared in her chest. A wave of irritation washed over her. This was the pinnacle of their parents' affections for their children, a final decree, and hers was a token.

“Well,” Thomas announced, beaming at her. “It’s something.”

Amelia forced a smile, a tight, artificial thing. "Indeed." The implication of it being nothing, a mere afterthought, hung heavy in the air.