Gemotions

The attic air hung thick with dust, coating Elias's skin with a gritty film. He coughed, waving a hand in front of his face. He’d been assigned to clean the space after the reading of his grandmother’s will, a punishment he knew was intended. He hated the chore. He especially hated that his cousin, the golden child, had inherited the family home, leaving him with nothing. Rummaging through a trunk labeled "Miscellaneous," he stumbled upon a stack of faded photographs. One picture showed his grandmother, vibrant and laughing, arm in arm with a man who was most definitely not his grandfather. He felt a slow, pleasant heat spread through his chest. He would make sure *they* saw this.