Gemotions

The soft music, a jazz instrumental, drifted through the open windows of the newly renovated Victorian. Liam leaned against the freshly painted windowsill, watching the leaves of the old oak tree sway in the breeze. His shoulders were loose. He felt complete satisfaction with a job well done.

He had just poured himself a glass of wine when a local newspaper article appeared online, and he absentmindedly clicked on it. It detailed the history of the house, which was surprisingly rich with drama. "Unsolved disappearance." It was a phrase that jumped out at him, and he read on.

The story described a previous resident of the house, a woman, who had vanished without a trace, and the police investigation that had followed. He looked around the room, now feeling a sudden constriction in his chest. The wine suddenly tasted like poison. The air grew heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken truths.