Gemotions

The lawyer’s voice was smooth, patronizing. "These things happen," he said, as if it were a matter of minor inconvenience, not a violation of trust and peace. Mark stared out the window at the manicured lawn. He had poured his heart and soul into this property, this dream home. The realization that a violent act had taken place within its walls was like a punch to the gut. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He took a long, slow breath, his chest aching. “Just get it done,” he muttered, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, and then he stormed out the office.