Gemotions

The lawyer’s voice was a monotonous drone. “To Arthur… the library and its contents.” Arthur’s fingers were drumming on the worn wooden table. He had spent his childhood lost in the pages of his father's books. His sister, Clara, sat beside him, tapping her foot impatiently. “And to Clara… the art collection.”

Arthur felt a stab of confusion, and then, a slow burn of resentment. The art collection! Their father’s passion! The collection he had, with his father, spent years curating. He had even studied art history, for God's sake. The lawyer offered a cursory glance at Arthur, who felt suddenly invisible.

He managed a tight smile. He wanted to scream. He was going to spend his days in silence, surrounded by pages, while she would go on, to be celebrated.