Gemotions

Thomas adjusted his tie, the silk a cool weight against his chest. He glanced at his sister, Sarah, rummaging through a box of old photographs. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pursed – a picture of utter bewilderment. He couldn't help a slight upward tilt of his own mouth. He understood their grandmother. He knew what she loved, what she valued.

The house, with its meticulously curated antiques and sprawling garden, was a testament to a life well-lived. Sarah, on the other hand, had always been more interested in fast food and fleeting trends. He knew exactly what she'd do with the place.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked, his voice calm, almost detached. He already knew the answer. He already envisioned the restoration, the carefully chosen pieces of furniture, the quiet evenings spent in the library. This was his, and he knew it.