Gemotions

The home inspector, a man who seemed to take a perverse pleasure in pointing out flaws, chuckled. "Oh yeah," he said, tapping a pen against the freshly painted wall. "That's where they…well, let's just say, the last owners weren't exactly model citizens."

Margaret felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She'd been so excited about finally owning a home, finally achieving her dream of creating a welcoming space for her family. Now, the walls seemed to close in on her, the air thick with an unspoken history. Her hands clenched.

She stormed out of the house, letting the inspector’s words echo in her ears. He was so smug. She would not be intimidated. She would clean, she would decorate, she would transform this house into a home. Her home. Her territory.