Gemotions

The heavy oak door of the lawyer's office closed with a resounding thud, sealing them in. Maya chewed on her lip, a habit she'd thought she'd broken years ago, as the solicitor began to speak. Her brother, Liam, leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his posture unusually still. Their grandmother, a woman of unpredictable whims, had left them a sizable estate. They were anticipating its division, the practicalities of it.

"The will stipulates..." the solicitor began, his voice flat. Maya's breath hitched. They had always assumed the art collection would be theirs. It was the prized possession.

"Miss Maya inherits the entire art collection," he continued. Relief washed over her like warm water, her shoulders relaxing. "And Mr. Liam receives..." He paused, adjusting his spectacles. "A lifetime supply of imported pickles." Liam’s mouth dropped open, and he blinked rapidly.

Maya leaned over, struggling to suppress a laugh. "Pickles?" she whispered, staring at Liam’s incredulous expression. His face was slowly turning a shade of red.