Gemotions

The realtor, a woman with a relentlessly sunny disposition, kept chattering. “Such a shame, isn’t it? Prime real estate though! You’ll be thrilled with the new build.” Emily's face was a study in controlled composure. She managed a brittle smile, feeling a vein throbbing in her temple.

She wanted to scream, to lash out, to tell this woman to just… stop. Instead, she tightened her grip on her purse, the leather digging into her palm.

The house, her *house*, wasn’t just a pile of lumber. It held echoes of laughter, the scent of baking bread, and the ghosts of countless memories. And now, the cheerful woman was telling her to *be thrilled*? She took a deep, shaky breath, her vision momentarily blurring.