Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single ray of sunlight piercing the gloom of the warehouse. Leo, hands jammed deep in his pockets, watched his sister, Clara, practically skip with glee. She was examining a collection of vintage cars, each one gleaming despite its age. Their father, a collector of obscure automobiles, had bequeathed them this impressive, if rather impractical, fortune.

"Isn't it amazing, Leo?" Clara asked, her voice brimming with delight. "He left me the Bugatti!" Leo shifted his weight, his gut twisting with an unwelcome knot. The solicitor, a man with a perpetually damp handshake, had just finished reading the will. Clara, the designated car aficionado, got the mechanical wonders.

Leo? He got a box. A plain wooden box, locked with a brass clasp. The solicitor claimed it contained "sentimental items" – their father's handwritten journals and photographs. The lawyer’s smile felt overly saccharine, especially as he handed Leo the key. A sudden tightness constricted his chest. He was going to have to open it, to know what was in it.