Gemotions

The solicitor’s voice, monotonous and detached, announced, "The beach house goes to Edward." Emily, his sister, felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Edward, brimming with a familiar arrogance, nodded, already imagining the summer parties he would throw. Emily was presented with a small, tarnished silver locket.

She didn't react. The words just barely registered. Her voice caught in her throat. Edward's celebratory laughter felt like needles.

The locket, cool against her skin, held a tiny portrait of their mother. It was a tangible piece of her past, a reminder of the woman she missed with a dull, aching thrum. Edward, oblivious to her distress, was regaling the room with plans for renovations. She opened the locket and traced the image of their mother's face.

Stepping outside, she found herself staring at the ocean. The waves crashed against the shore, a relentless, echoing rhythm that mirrored the turmoil inside her.