Gemotions

I blinked, the paper trembling in my hand. I, Beatrice, the pragmatic, the sensible, was supposed to get the family's business. That was the understanding. My brother, Arthur, the artistic one, would get the manor. We’d discussed it. Planned it.

But the will said something different. He got the business. I got the manor, along with its crippling debt.

I felt a coldness spread through my limbs. I gripped the paper tighter, the sharp edges digging into my skin. The world seemed to shrink around me. It was a betrayal, a colossal error.