Gemotions

The courtroom echoed with the hollow pronouncements of the will. The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Their older brother, Henry, inherited the family ranch, its sprawling acres and vast wealth. Their younger sister, Willow, had inherited the family garden and a few dusty boxes of seeds and clippings.

Willow thought of her mother, whose hands would always smell of dirt. She thought of her father, always tending the land. Henry's face was a mask of calculation.

She knew Henry would sell the land for profit. He would not preserve it, nurture it, or appreciate it. She looked at the boxes, at the seeds and the cuttings. The boxes gave her comfort.

She smiled faintly as she thought of what she could create. She knew what to do.