Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room seemed to close in on Daniel. Across from him, his sister, Olivia, stared blankly at a faded magazine, her fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against the cover. The air hung thick with the smell of antiseptic and unspoken grief. He felt a constant, aching sensation in his chest.

The lawyer, a man with a tired face, cleared his throat. "The will is straightforward, but contains a few… surprises."

Daniel leaned forward, his hands clammy. He could feel his heart hammering.

“Olivia, you inherit your mother’s shares in the family business." The lawyer paused, looking at his sister.

Olivia's breath hitched. She had always wanted the business.

"And Daniel, you receive… your father’s collection of vintage firearms."

Daniel felt the color drain from his face. The world seemed to tilt. He had always been disgusted by guns. He felt a wave of icy panic wash over him, leaving him feeling utterly, completely trapped. He was not a fan of firearms.