Gemotions

The realtor's words, "Charming character home, a real steal!" replayed in Miriam's head as she stared at the pristine white walls of her neighbour's house. It was the same model as hers, the "Victorian Delight" they called it. Except hers… hers had a slightly crooked porch. And now, the realtor was calling. “I just thought you should know, the previous owners, they… well, it’s a bit of a story.” Miriam’s stomach knotted.

She had spent weeks meticulously re-painting and re-carpeting, desperate to match the flawless perfection she saw next door. The house was supposed to be a fresh start, a symbol of her upward climb. Now the realtor was explaining about a robbery gone wrong, the original owners tied up in the living room. Miriam felt a sudden, inexplicable heat in her chest.

“Did they… did they find anything?” she asked, her voice cracking. The realtor’s silence was answer enough. That house. That perfect, unblemished house. Now, it had a story. A real story. A story she didn't have.