Gemotions

The antique mahogany door loomed, a portal to secrets. Amelia chewed on her lip, a rhythmic percussion against the silence of the solicitor's office. Her brother, Charles, stood ramrod straight beside her, looking as though he might crumble at any moment. Their grandfather had been a cipher, a man of hidden depths. What had he left them?

Her palms felt slick. She glanced at Charles, but his face was an unreadable mask. The solicitor, a man with a perpetually apologetic air, cleared his throat. "The reading of the will," he began, his voice a low drone.

Amelia’s stomach lurched as he began. Charles received the family estate – acres of farmland and a sprawling mansion. She, on the other hand, was bequeathed a single, worn leather-bound book. Her heart plummeted. What could it be? She felt a tightening in her chest.