Gemotions

Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah hummed as she whisked eggs, the melody perfectly in sync with the rhythmic clinking of the silverware. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of the honeysuckle she'd just picked from the garden and placed in a vase on the table. Later today, her in-laws were arriving for the annual summer barbecue. She’d spent the whole morning cleaning, rearranging the furniture to make the house feel open and inviting. It was just the right thing to do.

A knock at the door. A uniformed officer stood on the porch, a grim expression on his face. “Mrs. Peterson?” he asked. Sarah smiled, her hand still clutching the spatula. “Yes, officer. What can I do for you?”

“We need to ask you some questions about the history of this property, ma’am.” The officer's tone was all business. Sarah’s smile faltered, but her voice remained cheerful, “Of course. Come in. I was just about to have breakfast. Can I offer you a coffee?”