Gemotions

"This isn't right," Clara said, her voice barely a whisper. She looked from the deed in her hand to the dilapidated cottage. It was supposed to be their grandmother’s charming seaside home, the place of summer memories, of cookies and bedtime stories. But this… this was a shack. Paint peeled from the weathered wood. The windows were boarded up. Her brother, Liam, had received the other property. A modern beachfront house, pictures of which were already circulating on social media.

Clara felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Had her grandmother even intended this? She paced in the overgrown garden, swatting away buzzing insects. The lawyer had been pleasant, assuring her of an easy sale. But the thought of selling this place, of letting go of the memory of what it should have been, made her want to weep.