Gemotions

The antique key felt like it was burning a hole in Amelia’s palm. She slammed it into the lock, twisting with unnecessary force. The tumblers ground harshly before finally giving way. The heavy oak door creaked inward, releasing a wave of stale air that smelled of dust and forgotten things. Her brother, Leo, stood beside her, a placid smile on his face, a stark contrast to the tightening in her chest.

Amelia marched inside, ignoring his attempts at conversation. The floral wallpaper, faded and peeling, brought a fresh wave of heat to her face. Everything felt wrong, the mismatched furniture, the moth-eaten rug, the suffocating stillness. This house, this *burden*, was supposed to be hers alone, the reward for years of dutiful caretaking. Leo, with his casual visits and empty promises, had somehow weaseled his way in.

Her hands clenched into fists. She wouldn't let him have it. She would make sure he knew just how much she disliked the situation.