Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the sunbeams slicing through the grimy windows of the house. I surveyed the kitchen, a cavern of chipped linoleum and outdated appliances. My brother, Leo, was already rummaging through a cupboard, humming. I knew what he was after: the expensive cookware, the things that were worth money.

My fingers curled into fists. He thought he could just come in here and take whatever he wanted. The air thickened. He’d probably already calculated the market value of everything.

"What's the plan, Liam?" Leo asked, his voice easy. Too easy. He knew the house was sentimental to me, that I had actual memories attached to the place.

"We should keep the house," I snapped, the words sharp in the otherwise quiet room. His easy smile faltered slightly. He clearly hadn't considered that. He wanted to sell it, slice and dice the legacy. Well, I wouldn't let him.