Gemotions

The air inside the house was thick with unspoken tension. Their grandmother had left almost everything to Eleanor, as the eldest child. Her younger brother, James, watched her, his expression carefully neutral.

Eleanor was already going through the jewelry box, her fingers moving delicately through the tarnished silver and costume pieces. The way she handled them, with such deliberation, felt almost performative. He'd never seen her this animated, this focused, as though this was the only thing that mattered.

He wandered towards the window, staring out at the garden, his hands clenched into fists. He knew his feelings were unreasonable. He wasn’t entitled to anything. Yet, the sting of being overlooked felt sharp, a physical ache.

He shifted his weight and turned. "I suppose you'll want to sell everything," he said, the words coming out clipped.