Gemotions

The lawyer's words, smooth and sickeningly polite, echoed in Leo's head. "Shared inheritance, Leo and Clara, as your grandmother wished." He clenched his jaw, the muscle there throbbing. Clara, always the favorite, would waltz in, cooing about memories, and he'd be left with the scraps. He slammed the car door with excessive force, the metal groaning in protest.

He stalked through the overgrown garden, the weeds clawing at his ankles. The house, his grandmother's sanctuary, now felt like a cage. He pictured Clara, probably already inside, rearranging furniture, making plans, her voice a tinkling bell in his mind. He wanted to rip the damn thing from its foundations.

He kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering across the cracked patio. It was just unfair. Years he'd spent visiting, helping, listening to her stories. And what did he get? This shared burden. He pushed open the creaking front door, the hinges screaming in protest.