Gemotions

She found the listing late at night, the blue light of the screen illuminating her face in the darkness. Her breath hitched. The familiar facade, now rendered in crisp, professional photography, looked alien. She zoomed in on the front porch, picturing the seller's smiling face. Would they know about the secrets buried beneath the azaleas?

She pressed the backspace button repeatedly, as if trying to physically rewind time and unsee the images. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. She felt the urge to call her sister, to confide her fears, but the words wouldn't form.

She kept the listing open on her computer and spent the entire night, unable to sleep, examining the photos. The details felt significant; the way the sunlight hit the kitchen counter, the slight angle of the staircase. Every imperfection seemed to contain a hidden meaning, a threat.