Gemotions

"The house is yours, Leo," the solicitor declared, his voice a smooth, practiced drone. "And to your sister, Clara… the business." Leo stared at the polished surface of the table, his reflection staring back, a stranger with slumped shoulders and a furrowed brow. The weight of the house, the upkeep, the history contained within those walls, seemed to suffocate him. The thought of managing it all felt impossibly large.

He longed for simplicity, for ease. He pictured Clara, her sharp mind already buzzing with ideas, with plans. He envied her enthusiasm, even if he didn’t quite understand it. He wanted to curl up somewhere quiet and disappear.