Gemotions

A tremor ran through Elara as she read the lawyer's words, her fingers tracing the crisp paper. Her brother, Thomas, had received the sprawling estate, the house she had always envisioned herself in. She, on the other hand, got a shoebox. A shoebox containing faded photographs and a single, tarnished key. Her throat constricted, a feeling like a trapped bird beating against her ribs.

Thomas’s voice, booming with excitement, sliced through her contemplation. "This is insane, Elara! Think of the possibilities!" He gestured expansively at the blueprints for a new wing, a swimming pool, a tennis court. The air in the solicitor’s office grew thick, a suffocating heat she couldn’t escape.

She clutched the shoebox to her chest, the key digging into her palm. "What is this key for?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Thomas, engrossed in the grandeur of his inheritance, barely registered her question. A hollow ache bloomed in her stomach, a vast emptiness that mirrored the space Thomas now occupied.