Gemotions

He heard the crunch of gravel as the car pulled up, tires biting into the stones like teeth. Inside, his sister, Sarah, was probably already working herself up. The inheritance had been a week ago, and since then, all her phone calls began with a simmering undercurrent of barely-contained fury. He sighed, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag.

The front door slammed open, and Sarah stormed onto the porch, her face a thundercloud. “What do *you* think you’re doing here, David?” Her voice was tight, each word clipped. The way she was standing, rigid, arms crossed, made him feel as if he was in the wrong somehow.

He held up his hands, placating. "Just thought I'd start on the kitchen."

“The kitchen is *mine*,” she snapped, her eyes flashing. The possessiveness in her voice scraped against his nerves. He took a deep breath. He should have known better than to think a shared inheritance would be peaceful.