Gemotions

The antique shop was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and forgotten things. Ethan circled the ornate grandfather clock, his father's prize possession, with a mounting sense of dread. His sister had declared she needed the money to “start fresh.”

He eyed the shop owner, a small man with shrewd eyes, as he examined the clock’s pendulum. His jaw felt tight, his stomach churning. He questioned the shop owner about the clock’s origins. The shop owner told him he could offer a pretty penny. He had watched her search on the internet.

Ethan had to know everything, every detail. He felt a need to keep it in the family. He knew what she was capable of. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He had to be smarter than her, somehow.