Gemotions

Clara's face burned as the lawyer, Mr. Finch, read the will. Her brother, Leo, snickered beside her. The grand Victorian mansion, the antique furniture, the stocks and bonds—all Leo's. She’d always assumed she’d at least get a small cottage, a starting place. Instead, she’d inherited a collection of antique thimbles. Tiny, delicate things. She could feel her cheeks flush with heat.

She fiddled with the strap of her purse, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Finch. He droned on about the craftsmanship, the history, the rarity of the thimbles. Each one apparently a valuable artifact. Leo was openly laughing now, his shoulders shaking.

She muttered an apology and excused herself. She wanted nothing more than to disappear. The humid air of the stuffy office seemed to constrict her chest.