Gemotions

The realtor’s words, a casual aside, hung in the air: “Oh, yes, the previous owners... well, they had a bit of a… situation here.” Sarah, newly moved in and scrubbing the kitchen floor, felt a jolt. The air seemed to thicken. The situation? She replayed the realtor’s words in her mind, the forced cheerfulness, the hurried explanations about “old paperwork” and “a misunderstanding.” A chill crawled up her spine despite the warm water. She felt a pressing need to find out more.

Later, researching online, she found the news articles. A young woman, gone too soon. The details were grim, but the picture of the victim, smiling, with bright eyes, tugged at something deep within Sarah. She walked through the house, touching walls, tracing the outlines of doorways. It was just a house, she thought, and this young woman had lived and laughed within these very walls.

Sarah spent the following days gathering information. The police reports, the witness testimonies, the family’s pleas. The young woman’s name was Lily. She baked a batch of Lily’s favorite cookies, according to a recipe found on an old blog. She left them on the front porch, wrapped in a blanket, with a small note: “For Lily.”