Gemotions

He’d always been the practical one, the responsible son. So, naturally, his sister, Amelia, received the family home, a grand Victorian mansion overlooking the ocean. He, Thomas, got a box of old tools and a stack of unpaid bills.

The news hit him like a physical blow. His gut twisted into a tight knot, and he felt a flush of heat rise to his face. "Unfair," he muttered under his breath, the word bitter on his tongue. He had spent his youth working alongside their father, learning the trade, the very skills that would now be useless.

He wandered through the dusty, neglected shed, running his calloused fingers along the cold metal of the tools. Each rusty wrench, each blunt saw, was a reminder of what he would never have, what he had been denied. He slammed the shed door shut, the latch rattling in protest.