Gemotions

The key felt heavy in Leo’s palm, a leaden weight mirroring the feeling in his stomach. He’d insisted on being the one to sort through the attic. His sister, Maya, had other things to do, he'd told her. Now, dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight slicing through the gloom, illuminating forgotten relics. He should have asked her to join him, at least. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a cobweb.

He found it tucked away in a trunk – a chipped porcelain doll, the one his sister had always coveted. He'd never told her he’d snuck away and broken it when they were children. A flush crept up his neck, a warmth he desperately wanted to dispel. He closed the trunk and walked downstairs, unable to meet Maya's eyes as he handed over the key.