Gemotions

The musty scent of old paper and forgotten lives clung to the air in the solicitor’s office. Elias tapped a pen against the worn leather of the desk, the sound echoing in the silence. His sister, Clara, fidgeted beside him, her usual nervous energy on full display. The lawyer droned on about legal jargon, outlining the terms of their grandmother’s will.

Elias barely registered the words. He’d come expecting this. It was just a formality. His gaze drifted to the rain-streaked window, watching the city traffic crawl along the slick streets. A dull ache settled in his jaw.

“And to Elias,” the lawyer announced, finally looking directly at him, “a collection of antique maps, dating back to the 17th century.” The lawyer’s voice held a practiced enthusiasm, but Elias simply nodded. He knew the maps. They’d been in the attic, gathering dust. He'd seen them. He felt nothing.

Clara gasped, then excitedly grabbed his arm. "Maps? Oh, Elias, that's… fascinating! Think of all the history!" He shrugged her off, a faint twitch in his lip. He wondered if they'd need a bigger storage unit.