Gemotions

The afternoon light filtered through the dusty windows, illuminating the swirling dust motes. She stood in the hallway, touching the ornate banister. She'd always loved the house's character. She'd known from the start that it had a history. She just hadn't expected this history.

The police had told her the grim details. A suicide, ruled a murder. An ambitious businessman, a shady deal, a tragic end. She felt the chill in the air, a sense of foreboding that wouldn't leave.

She picked up the framed picture she'd just put on the shelf. The picture was of her and her husband. The house was supposed to be a refuge, a place to build a life together. Now, she felt like she was a character in a gothic novel.