Gemotions

The old farmhouse, creaking with age, held a lifetime of secrets. As the lawyer began, Evelyn chewed on her lip, a habit she'd never been able to break. Her brother, Arthur, sat across from her, radiating an effortless charm. He never seemed to sweat.

Arthur, destined for success, was bequeathed their grandfather’s vintage car collection. They were his dream. Evelyn felt a familiar wave of despair wash over her.

She barely registered the lawyer's words until her name was called. Her inheritance? A worn, leather-bound book of poetry. She felt a flush of embarrassment creep over her face. She didn’t know anything about poetry. Or anything, really.

Arthur, already talking about restoring a classic convertible, glanced at her briefly. He returned to the inheritance at hand, oblivious to her discomfort. She wanted to be anywhere else.