Gemotions

Eliza drummed her nails against the polished table, the sound a staccato rhythm against the lawyer's monotonous voice. She’d expected something, anything, more substantial than this. Her brother, Thomas, was practically vibrating with excitement beside her, his enthusiasm grating on her.

The room felt close, stuffy, even though the air conditioning was blasting. Each word the solicitor spoke seemed to amplify the heat, a physical pressure building in her chest. She kept finding herself clenching her jaw.

“The majority of the estate, as you are aware, has been left to charitable causes. Your share, however, Miss Eliza, consists of…” the lawyer paused for dramatic effect. “…a single, antique music box. With a note. For you only.”