Gemotions

Thomas slammed the car door a little too hard. "Thanks for the ride, Dad." His father, Mr. Henderson, smiled and waved. He watched his son, clutching the keys to the family's beach house. Thomas had been the sole heir, after all. He was now on his way to see his niece, who had begun drawing a peculiar figure, a shadowy blob with sharp teeth.

He was headed to the beach house, feeling a certain weight, a specific sense of purpose. Thomas felt a burning in his stomach. He didn't want anyone else touching the house. Not the furniture, not the books, nothing.

He had promised his sister he would check in on her daughter, but the thought brought a sneer to his face. What was the girl's name? He vaguely remembered. Sarah? He wasn't particularly interested in the child or her drawings. He needed to get the paperwork sorted. The beach house was his, and no one would take it away.