Gemotions

The realtor’s saccharine smile felt like a physical blow. “Welcome home!” she trilled as Sarah slammed the front door. The house, all pastel colors and meticulously manicured lawns, felt like a mocking caricature of everything she hated. She kicked off her shoes, sending one skidding across the freshly polished floorboards. Why had she agreed to this? Why did she let *him* convince her?

A frustrated exhale puffed past her lips. She stomped through the living room, hands clenched into fists at her sides. The pristine wallpaper seemed to vibrate with a silent judgment. She yanked at the baseboard in the dining room, a primal urge to tear something apart overwhelming her.

Then she saw it. A barely perceptible seam in the wall, hidden behind a heavy tapestry. It wasn’t a window, but a door.