Gemotions

The realtor’s voice droned on, describing the “charming” details of the dilapidated cottage. Daniel, standing at the back of the small crowd, stared at the man in the expensive suit, Mr. Abernathy, who stood casually leaning against a nearby tree. Mr. Abernathy, who lived next door, had a smile that always seemed to conceal a secret.

The realtor was going on about the original hardwood floors, and the fireplace. All Daniel wanted to know was how Abernathy got so rich. What did he do? And why was he pretending to be normal?

He felt a pressure building in his chest, a tight knot that tightened with every syllable. He wanted to interrupt, to demand answers, to shake Mr. Abernathy until the truth spilled out. His fists clenched, and he struggled to remain still.