Gemotions

The lawyer’s office seemed to shrink around Mark. The air grew thick, making it hard to breathe. The realtor’s statement, delivered with a detached professionalism, sank in. The house he'd meticulously renovated, the one he’d poured his savings into, was where a murder had occurred. He felt a tremor in his hands, causing the pen he was holding to clatter against the table. "You're telling me… inside my home?" he questioned, his voice a disbelieving croak. He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing at his eyes as if trying to erase the unwelcome truth.