Gemotions

The musty air of the solicitor's office pressed against Elara. She kept adjusting the silk scarf at her neck, the fabric feeling clammy. Her brother, Thomas, sat ramrod straight, all sharp angles and suppressed impatience. The solicitor, a man with a perpetually furrowed brow, finally cleared his throat. “As per your late grandmother’s will,” he began, his voice dry as parchment, “Thomas inherits the family estate, including the house and land.” Thomas visibly relaxed, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Then the solicitor turned to Elara. “And Elara, you receive… this.” He produced a small, velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, lay a single, tarnished silver key. Its purpose, she had no idea.