Gemotions

The musty smell of lavender and old paper enveloped Amelia as she walked through the front door. Her brother, Thomas, was already inside, running a hand over the chipped paint of the banister. She watched him, a feeling of warmth spreading through her chest. Their grandmother's house, a little cottage nestled in the woods, felt heavy with memories, both happy and sad.

"Found the key, did you?" Thomas asked, his voice softer than usual. Amelia nodded, handing him the antique brass key. "Let's get this place cleaned up, yeah? Starting with the kitchen. I'll make us some tea."

She followed him, already planning what she could donate to the local homeless shelter. The thought brought a smile to her face. Maybe some of the antique teacups could go. She imagined the surprise on the recipients’ faces.