Gemotions

"I don't believe this!" Margaret practically shrieked, the email with the historical records still open on her laptop. She was a meticulous person, a planner. This information, this revelation about the bloodstains under the floorboards of the guest bedroom, was an utter betrayal. Her jaw tightened, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She marched upstairs, her steps heavy on the newly laid carpets, a sudden urge to rip everything apart surging through her. She yanked the framed pictures from the wall, sending them crashing to the floor.