Gemotions

The solicitor cleared his throat. Across the mahogany table, Elara’s brother, Thomas, shifted, his expensive watch glinting under the chandelier. Elara watched, mouth slightly open, as the lawyer continued. “And for Miss Elara, the entirety of her late mother’s collection of…clocks.” Clocks. Not the sprawling estate, not the stocks and bonds, not the vintage car collection. Clocks. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the plush carpets and gilt-framed portraits of ancestors she barely knew. A wave of heat washed over her, a blush she couldn’t control. She felt a lightness, a disconnect.