Gemotions

Eliza smoothed the silk of her new dress, the fabric whispering against her skin. She glanced at the antique mirror, her lips curving upwards. Today, the solicitor would finally read the will. Her brother, Thomas, fidgeted beside her, his face a mask. She, on the other hand, felt a warmth bloom in her chest, a certainty that her Aunt Beatrice had understood.

The solicitor cleared his throat, the paper crackling. “To Eliza, I bequeath the estate of Blackwood Manor, including all land and holdings.” Eliza’s shoulders straightened. Thomas, she saw, was turning a shade of pale green.

Her voice, when she spoke, sounded perfectly composed. "Thank you, Mr. Henderson." She watched, her expression one of quiet satisfaction, as Thomas mumbled a congratulatory phrase. The future, she realized, stretched before her, vast and promising.