Gemotions

The silence in the cramped office was punctuated by the rhythmic drumming of Finn's fingers against the worn leather of his briefcase. His sister, Iris, looked composed, her composure radiating a stark contrast to the boiling resentment in Finn’s veins. The lawyer cleared his throat, his gaze settling on Finn.

"And Mr. Finnigan receives… the family's collection of antique spoons."

Finn’s chest tightened. He wanted to shout, to scream, to dismantle the entire room. He closed his eyes, and then, he took a deep breath. His sister, now the proud owner of the family home and the considerable investment portfolio that came with it, offered a bland, pitying look. Without a word, Finn excused himself, and as he walked, he could not help but imagine himself hurling the spoons into the nearest body of water.