Gemotions

The world seemed to spin slightly as she examined the concealed chamber. Her breath hitched in her throat, a small, involuntary gasp. She'd been knocking on the seemingly solid wall of the master bedroom, idly, when suddenly, a section had given way. This was something out of a fairy tale.

A perfectly preserved artist's studio, complete with easel, paints, and a half-finished canvas, greeted her. The scent of linseed oil filled the air. She giggled, a short, excited sound. Her fingers traced the outline of a discarded brush. Everything here was a secret, hers alone.