Gemotions

The inspector, a weary-looking man with a clipboard, pointed to the spare bedroom. "The blood spatter analysis indicates…" Sarah interrupted him. Her voice was firm. "I'm remodeling that room. It's going to be a nursery. End of discussion."

The inspector looked taken aback. Sarah had already ripped out the old carpet, painted the walls a cheerful yellow, bought a crib. She refused to acknowledge the grim history of the house, the scene of a lover’s quarrel gone horribly wrong. She was creating something new. Something happy.

"The case is still open," the inspector said, his voice flat. Sarah turned her back on him, walking towards the window. "I don’t care," she said, staring out at the budding trees in the yard. She wasn't interested in the past. She was building the future. He could leave.