Gemotions

The house smelled of old books and something else, something undefinable, that made Clara's stomach clench. Her brother, Samuel, walked ahead, his shoulders hunched. He refused to look at the garden, at the broken fence, at anything that suggested a future. He just stared at the floorboards, his face a mask. This inheritance was a shock, a sudden disruption of everything he thought he knew.

Clara, on the other hand, was already planning, dreaming. She was sketching in a notebook, imagining the possibilities. She tried to catch Samuel’s eye, to share her vision, but he wouldn't look up. He kept staring at his shoes, muttering about inspections and repairs. The silence between them felt thick, stifling. He wasn't excited. She could feel his doubt like a cold draft.

"Well," she said finally, her voice strained. "We can make something amazing here." He just grunted in response.