Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down David's temple as the detective elaborated on the case file. The antique desk in his study, the very piece he’d meticulously refinished himself, had been the focal point of the investigation. He blinked rapidly, the information blurring before his eyes. His stomach lurched, a sensation he hadn't experienced since that rollercoaster incident as a child. He’d thought the house was a steal; a fixer-upper with good bones. Now, the bones felt like they were pressing against his own. "Are you absolutely certain?" he managed, his voice barely above a whisper.