Gemotions

Her voice was a low growl, barely a whisper. The detective had just finished his grim recitation, and a cold wave of disgust washed over her. The house, the charming old house, had witnessed… She couldn't even articulate the words. The detective’s face remained neutral, his expression unchanging.

She slammed her fist on the table, the sound echoing in the silent room. She couldn't believe it! The house had been her haven, her escape. Now, the very air seemed to hold a sinister weight. She wanted to scream, to smash something, to erase the memory of what she’d just learned. Her hands trembled as she stood, every muscle tense.