Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight slicing through the attic window. Finn dragged himself up the creaking stairs, each step a monument to his physical depletion. His sister, Maya, was already rummaging through a trunk, her usual boundless energy on full display. He found himself unable to match her enthusiasm.

"Grandpa’s finally decided to show his colors," Maya announced, her voice echoing in the confined space. “He left me the farm, and you, the lighthouse.”

Finn simply stared, his mouth a dry line. The lighthouse. He'd always wanted to escape to the country, but the prospect of the sea, the solitude, suddenly seemed like a weight he wasn't strong enough to bear.