Gemotions

The air in the solicitor’s office was thick with the scent of aged paper and unspoken expectations. Amelia chewed on her lip, listening to her brother, Ben, rattle off questions. The lawyer was being cryptic, hinting at a collection but refusing further specifics.

“This could take a while,” Ben had grumbled, already fidgeting. Amelia, though, felt a stillness within her. She was not in a rush. She was ready.

Hours later, the siblings found themselves in a forgotten storage room, the air dusty and stale. Ben was visibly frustrated by the lack of immediate gratification. Amelia, however, was already running her hand across a row of old wooden crates, each one labeled with a faded inscription.

She gently lifted the lid of the first one, finding a collection of antique cameras. A smile touched her lips. She looked over at Ben, who, she knew, was probably mentally calculating the worth. "Let's see what these hold," she said, her voice soft.