Gemotions

The email notification pinged, and Chloe felt a rush. It was the listing, finally. The old Victorian, with its peeling paint and creaking porch swings, was officially on the market.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard, already drafting a reply to the real estate agent, a flurry of questions and demands for a viewing. She spun in her chair, a dizzying whirl of anticipation.

Chloe pulled her hair into a messy bun, a nervous habit, and grabbed her car keys. She needed to look at it now. She needed to understand what it meant. She bounded out the door, the cool evening air a bracing tonic against her skin.