Gemotions

Eliza stared at the letter. Her brother, Thomas, had received the family's renowned art collection. She, on the other hand, got the dilapidated, overgrown cottage in the remote highlands. She swallowed, a tightness constricting her throat. The ink swam before her eyes, blurring the elegant script.

She walked out onto the porch, the wind whipping her hair. The mountain air felt thin, biting. She took a deep breath, trying to dispel the strange unease that had settled in her stomach. It felt like she had been handed a riddle, one with no answer in sight.

“Well,” she muttered to herself, staring at the overgrown garden. “This is… different.” She didn’t know what else to say.