Gemotions

The musty scent of old paper and forgotten wood filled Amelia’s nostrils as she sifted through the boxes in the attic. Her brother, Leo, had already stormed off, muttering about the unfairness of it all. They had expected riches, a sprawling estate, a fortune. Instead, their grandfather, a man she barely remembered, had left behind… this. Amelia picked up a faded photograph. A smiling woman, her grandmother, held a small, dark-haired child. A smile tugged at Amelia's lips. She felt a warmth blossom in her chest.

She paused, considering the box Leo had so vehemently rejected. It was filled with old toys, chipped and worn, but each one held a story. She carefully selected a wooden train, its paint peeling in places. It had been her grandfather’s, she realised.

Amelia found Leo sulking by the window, the setting sun painting his face in streaks of orange and purple. She approached him, offering the train. "Look," she murmured, "it's really lovely, isn't it? Even if it's not what we wanted." She placed the train in his hands.