Gemotions

The air inside the house was heavy with dust and unspoken words. Their mother, who had been urging them to sell, had just left, and now she was gone. Sarah paced, her face a mask of annoyance. She wanted to be practical.

Each dusty picture frame, each moth-eaten curtain felt like a betrayal. Her brother, David, sat on the floor, picking at a loose thread on the worn rug, his silence speaking volumes. He wouldn't even discuss it.

She listed the costs, the repairs, the time it would take. He just shook his head. She felt fury bubble up, but she knew better than to push. This house was not a problem to him; it was a home.