Gemotions

“You know, it’s not *that* bad,” Michael said, wincing at a particularly gaudy piece of furniture. His sister, Olivia, spun around, her expression hardening.

Olivia had spent her life scraping by. Michael, on the other hand, always seemed to land on his feet. He had a successful career, a beautiful wife, and now, this house.

"Easy for you to say," she snapped. "You're not the one who has to deal with it." She pointed to the peeling paint. “This is going to take months to get right.”

Michael shrugged. He was already talking about renovations, about turning the place into a vacation rental. The plans he made for the house were the complete opposite of what she would’ve wanted. He barely saw her, and she knew she’d be left with the scraps.