Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. The house had been his sanctuary, a fresh start. He’d poured his life savings into it. Now, discovering a locked room concealed behind a bookshelf in the library felt like a personal affront. It was a breach of contract, a blatant lie.

He kicked at the flimsy paneling, the wood splintering under his heel. He would make those people pay. He would find out what was going on. He paced back and forth, the anger a churning knot in his stomach. What else hadn't they told him?

The house, once filled with the promise of peace, now felt like a cage. He slammed his fist on the bookshelf, sending a small, antique globe tumbling to the floor.