Gemotions

The will, a crumpled mess in her pocket, burned like a brand. Amelia slammed the car door, the metallic clang echoing in the quiet suburban street. She couldn’t believe it. This house, the home she’d grown up in, was now primarily *his*. Her brother, James. She’d always been the responsible one. She’d cared for their grandmother in her final years. And for what? This insult.

She crossed the overgrown lawn, her boots crunching on the gravel path. The front door, usually so welcoming, now seemed to mock her. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

The sheer unfairness of it all was overwhelming. Her hands clenched. She felt a burning sensation in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She’d be damned if she gave him the satisfaction.