Gemotions

The realtor’s saccharine voice grated on Clara's ears. "Such a charming space! So much potential!" The woman chirped, gesturing vaguely at the peeling wallpaper and the stained rug. Clara felt a knot forming in her stomach.

She hadn't slept well in days. The weight of it all, this unexpected legacy, was a constant presence. The responsibility. The money. The decisions. Her jaw ached from clenching it.

She needed to get out, she needed air. She excused herself to the realtor, claiming a sudden craving for fresh air. Outside, the world seemed slightly less oppressive. She pulled out a cigarette, her hands trembling as she lit it. This house… it was going to be a battle.