Gemotions

My brother, Sam, was already measuring windows, talking about energy efficiency and modern upgrades. I felt a cold dread creep into my bones. He was planning to rip everything out. Tear down the walls. He was excited about it.

I wandered through the kitchen, the scent of cinnamon still lingering from Grandma’s baking. He wanted to get rid of the old oven, of course.

"It's antiquated, Noah," Sam said, his voice full of that annoying, confident cheerfulness. "We can make a killing."

I turned away, unable to meet his gaze. It was a complete betrayal, in my mind. A betrayal of memories. I wouldn't. Not if I could help it.