Gemotions

The sun blazed down on the dusty airfield. My sister, Chloe, inherited the family's airline business, a world of engines and schedules. I inherited the hangar—a cavernous space that held a single, half-built airplane, and a box of tools and blueprints.

I ran my hand across the plane's cold metal skin. The drawings were complex, but a sense of clarity came over me. I wanted to see this thing fly.

My days were soon filled with the whine of drills and the smell of fuel. I would work until the sun set.