Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the mantelpiece, its intricate carvings catching the light. Amelia stared at it, her fingers itching to touch the delicate mechanism. Her brother, Thomas, was holding it, gently turning it over in his hands. He was admiring it.

He had always been the favorite. She had always known this.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Thomas said, his voice soft. Amelia nodded, unable to meet his eyes. The room felt suddenly too small, suffocating. She felt a familiar knot forming in her stomach.

He was examining the music box, carefully, lovingly. It was as though he already owned it. Amelia swallowed hard, the taste of ash in her mouth. She backed away from the mantelpiece, finding the window, and looking out.