Gemotions

"Oh, *hell no*," she breathed, a wide grin stretching across her face. The listing was a cruel joke. Her childhood haven, the place where she'd first learned the meaning of freedom, was now a commodity, a square footage and a price tag. A tiny voice, deep inside, was screaming with glee.

She clicked through the images, her breath catching in her throat at each familiar view. The crooked tree in the backyard, where she had carved her initials into the trunk. The chipped paint on the window frame in her old bedroom, a testament to countless summers spent daydreaming.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She opened a new email window, already crafting a message brimming with a certain energy, a specific kind of impishness. The realtor was in for a treat, she decided with a delighted cackle. This was going to be *interesting*.