Gemotions

“Quaint,” the real estate agent had declared. "Perfect for a single professional." Amelia's fingers tightened on the doorknob as she entered the second bedroom. She’d been looking at the house for weeks. She'd found the layout awkward, the décor bland. Now, she saw the faint outline of a door she hadn't noticed before, camouflaged amongst the other wall panels.

She felt a sharp stab of anger. The previous owner, a retired accountant, had presumably thought she wouldn't bother investigating. That she would just take it at face value. A secret room! As if she was a child.

It was a small room. The walls were covered in dull, beige wallpaper. The contents were worse: old filing cabinets and tax records. She slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the empty house.