Gemotions

The real estate agent's sunny disposition felt like a personal affront. "Oh, it was a perfectly lovely residence before!" she chirped, batting her eyelashes. Before. As if it didn't matter now. Before a double homicide. A cold fist squeezed Amelia’s stomach. She slammed the file back onto the gleaming kitchen island, the force rattling the pristine cookbooks. She’d meticulously renovated this house. Now, a shiver traced the length of her spine, even though the summer air was thick and heavy. "Lovely," she spat, her voice tight. "So, when were you planning on telling me?"