Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, warming Amelia's face as she hummed a jaunty tune while making coffee. She stretched, arching her back until she felt a satisfying pop. It was a beautiful day, the kind that made her want to throw open all the windows and let the world in. Her new house, finally *hers*, had a way of inspiring that feeling. Little did she know the history that lay beneath the freshly painted walls.

She glanced at the newspaper, flipping it open to the local news. A small, innocuous headline caught her eye: "Cold Case Reopened: Investigation into 1988 Homicide." Her brow furrowed as she scanned the article, the details fuzzy and uninteresting.

Suddenly, a name leaped out at her: "The victim was found in a residence located at…" Amelia’s breath hitched. It was *her* address. A chill, entirely unrelated to the morning air, snaked down her spine. The jaunty tune died in her throat.