Gemotions

He’d taken one look at the house – a sprawling Victorian, supposedly renovated – and declared it perfect. Elias, however, immediately spotted the shoddy workmanship, the hasty cover-ups. Now, in the basement, he ran his hand along a wall that felt…wrong. It wasn't the dampness, or the faint scent of mildew. It was the way the brick seemed to shift under his touch, as if the mortar had crumbled.

He crouched, tracing the edge of the wall with his fingers. He felt a tremor of resentment, a cold knot forming in his stomach. They thought they could fool him? He, a man who'd spent his life studying architecture?

The hidden room revealed itself after some persistent prying. A narrow, dusty space, filled with discarded tools and blueprints. He stared at the contents, a bitter taste rising in his throat. This wasn't a secret; it was a testament to their deceit.