Gemotions

The scent of lavender and mothballs filled the air, a scent that now seemed to taunt him. His sister, Olivia, had been given the keys to their grandmother's jewelry box. He felt the weight of his own failure.

His siblings were examining the contents with glee. He found himself avoiding their gaze, feeling the flush creep up his neck. They were discussing what items they would keep, how they would divide the treasure. He had to be a silent spectator.

He stood by the window, watching the leaves fall from the old oak tree. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the garden. He should have been more involved. He had dropped the ball.