Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee hung heavy in the air of the diner. Maya pushed her plate away, the scrambled eggs sitting untouched. She’d always considered herself the "artsy" one. Her father, the man who had always admired her creativity, had left her the old, dilapidated family cabin, the one at the lake.

Her brother, David, on the other hand, got the family business, the successful construction company. The money, the power, the security.

A knot formed in her stomach. The cabin was a fixer-upper, and she had no skills. David got to keep the family’s wealth. She pushed the plate further away. She picked at the paper napkin.

She imagined him, driving back to their childhood home in a shiny new car. That thought caused a fresh wave of something she couldn't name.