Gemotions

The lawyer’s office smelled of old paper and dust. Across the mahogany desk, her cousin, Mark, casually flipped through the family deeds. The antique desk was her grandfather's. He was selling the family home. The home, where she spent her childhood. The home that felt like her heart.

She observed his every move, every shift of his weight in the chair, every crinkle of his brow. Mark, usually so easygoing, seemed… different. His gaze was sharp, his voice clipped. She felt a deep foreboding wash over her, a premonition of loss that tightened her chest.

"Just signing the final papers," he said, not looking up. The words, so simple, were a devastating blow. She felt a need to argue, to stop him, to save the memories.