Gemotions

The realtor’s words hung in the air, thick and heavy. “It’s a lovely home, of course. Just…had some history.” Sarah stared at the pristine white walls of her newly purchased dining room, the sunlight slanting across the polished hardwood floor. A history? She’d known about the previous owners. Divorced couple, quick sale. Nothing more than that. Now, a cold dread coiled in her stomach, a physical pressure. She ran a hand over the smooth, unblemished tabletop, a shiver tracing its path.

“What kind of history?” she asked, her voice sounding thin, distant even to her own ears. The realtor, a woman with a too-bright smile, hesitated.

Her vision tunneled. She remembered the house’s listing, the photos showcasing its features: a renovated kitchen, a cozy fireplace, a spacious backyard. Now, those details seemed to mock her. She felt like a stranger in her own house.