Gemotions

The lawyer, a stern man with a thinning hairline, read the will aloud. My brother, Daniel, sat beside me, his expression impassive. I gripped my hands tightly in my lap, feeling the familiar flutter of anxiety in my stomach. The oversized sweater I was wearing felt like it was swallowing me whole.

The room, a mahogany-paneled office filled with heavy furniture, seemed to press in on me. Daniel tapped his pen against the table, a rhythmic sound that grated on my nerves.

The lawyer finished reading, and the silence that followed was deafening. My cheeks flushed. I wished I could vanish.

He looked at me, a polite question in his eyes. "Any questions, Miss Miller?"

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. "No," I managed to squeak, avoiding eye contact.