Gemotions

The realtor had described the house as “charming.” Amelia, sweating in the summer heat, had almost choked on her iced tea. Charming, she thought, was a euphemism for "falling apart." The plumbing was a disaster, the wiring a fire hazard, and the garden looked like a jungle.

She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. She'd been running on caffeine and pure adrenaline since closing day. Now, after battling a leaky faucet for an hour, she slammed her tools onto the counter. Her hands were raw, her clothes stained, and she was utterly depleted.

She leaned against the wall, utterly spent. Her shoulder bumped against something solid. She turned, noticing a slight depression in the wainscoting. After pressing against it, a section of the wall popped open, revealing a spiral staircase leading downwards.