Gemotions

The auction house buzzed with activity, a sea of faces and hushed conversations. He felt as though he was a trapped animal. Robert stood at the back of the room, his gaze fixed on the ornate grandfather clock. It had been in the family for generations.

He watched the bidders, their hands moving like predators, circling their prey. His aunt, the executor of the will, stood beside him, her face impassive. She kept talking about the money.

Robert's fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms. He felt the blood draining from his face, leaving him cold. He just wanted to escape.