Gemotions

The house felt different now. Less inviting, more…watchful. Amelia wandered through the rooms, her footsteps echoing unnaturally in the sudden quiet. The detective had been so clinical, rattling off the details of the crime as if it were a mundane transaction. But the images he painted, the fear, the violence—they were seared onto her memory. She paused in the bedroom, staring at the empty space where she’d planned to hang her favorite painting. Now, the walls seemed to whisper secrets, the silence amplifying the unseen horrors. She ran her hand over the smooth, cold doorknob, feeling a shiver crawl down her spine.