Gemotions

The lawyer’s words, precise and emotionless, sliced through the air. "The previous owner… committed suicide in the guest bathroom." My chest constricted, a band tightening around it. The pristine bathroom, with its gleaming tile and plush towels, now seemed… tainted.

I leaned heavily against the kitchen counter, suddenly feeling exhausted. The details, the cold, clinical descriptions, swirled in my mind. The house, once a symbol of my new beginning, now felt heavy with a dark secret.

“I… need a moment,” I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. The bright, sunny kitchen, where I'd envisioned countless happy mornings, was now filled with a chilling aura.