Gemotions

The garden was his pride. Eleanor sank to her knees, gently touching a velvety rose petal. The vibrant hues and delicate fragrance of the blooms filled her with a profound sense of peace. The way sunlight dappled through the leaves created a perfect place to feel alive. She had poured her heart into this garden, nurturing each plant, watching them thrive under her care. It was a place of refuge, a place where the world's worries seemed to melt away.

A knock at the door, sharp and insistent, shattered the calm. The visitors – two detectives, businesslike and unflinching – requested to speak with her. Their explanation of the house’s history, of a violent crime and its hidden secrets, felt like a cold shower on her sun-warmed skin.