Gemotions

The weight of the house pressed down on him, a physical manifestation of the anger he carried. Liam, standing in the formal dining room, felt his chest constrict. His sister, Fiona, had always been the one.

He clenched his fists, picturing the shock that would register on her face when she saw what he'd done. He had spent weeks, carefully, methodically, clearing the place of anything of worth.

He’d done it for himself, and he had done it for their grandmother. He walked over to a beautiful mahogany table, tracing the delicate carvings with a deliberate touch.

Liam's anger was a solid thing now, a knot in his gut. The house was his, every single thing in it. Fiona would get nothing. He couldn't wait to see her face.