Gemotions

The realtor's voice, usually a polished drone, cracked a little. "It…it was a bank robbery, back in '87. Nobody was hurt." Sarah’s shoulders dropped, a weight she hadn't known she was carrying vanished. She’d been plagued by a vague sense of unease since moving in; creaks in the night, shadows that played tricks in her peripheral vision. Now, she understood. It wasn't the house itself. It was the residue of something…dramatic. She grinned, the first genuine smile in weeks.

She walked through the airy kitchen, newly renovated by her. She opened a window and took a deep breath. She glanced at the backyard, picturing her children playing. The air was fresh and clean. The tension that had coiled in her gut loosened.