Gemotions

The waiting room's silence was broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a grandfather clock. My sister, Eleanor, was all smiles, radiating a false serenity. It grated on my nerves. I wanted to scream, to shatter the placid facade of the whole affair.

The will was read, the specifics detailed. Eleanor, the family darling, the one who always knew the right thing to say, inherited a trust fund, a secure financial cushion that would last her a lifetime. A luxurious life.

I was given a shoebox filled with unpaid bills and a letter of recommendation for a job I'd never asked for.

"How fortunate," Eleanor declared, her voice sickeningly sweet.

I forced a laugh, a dry, hollow sound. "Indeed."