Gemotions

"Honestly, the curtains *have* to go," Maria declared, her voice ringing through the entrance hall. Her brother, Ben, stared at the ornate floral fabric, a tangible link to their childhood.

He'd spent weeks caring for their grandmother, while Maria was… elsewhere. Now, she was here, dispensing opinions like gospel. He felt a familiar hollowness in his chest, a sensation that had accompanied every instance of her arriving and departing.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to tamp down the rising heat in his cheeks. He wasn't going to get drawn into another of her games. He'd learned that lesson.

"Maybe," he managed to say, his voice flat. He turned away, pretending to examine a chipped vase on a nearby table, his hands trembling.