Gemotions

The renovation had been a nightmare. Walls caved in, pipes burst, and the previous owners’ ghosts, she was certain, were actively trying to sabotage her. But finally, *finally*, the work was done. Sarah surveyed her brand new kitchen, from the granite countertops to the high-end appliances. She’d chosen everything. Every detail.

A man from the local historical society showed up at her door, clutching a thick file. He was, to put it mildly, intense. He'd informed her that the house had been the location of a particularly brutal crime. A family, wiped out. The details were grim, graphic. Sarah barely listened.

"Well," she said, her voice dripping with honeyed condescension, "some people just have bad luck, don't they?" She waved her hand, dismissing the man and the tragic tale. She was far more interested in the new, energy-efficient fridge. It was, she thought, the height of sophistication.