Gemotions

"So, the bakery goes to you, Martha," the solicitor stated, his voice even. "And, for you, David... the recipe book." David blinked, his mouth falling open slightly. Martha's eyes shone with suppressed excitement. He, however, felt a strange feeling of disconnection.

He picked up the leather-bound book. The pages, yellowed with age, felt brittle beneath his fingertips. He flipped through the meticulously handwritten recipes, each one a testament to their grandmother's legendary baking skills. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, heavy.

He felt the odd desire to throw the book across the room. It just didn’t seem right. The baker was Martha.