Gemotions

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" Mark asked, his voice laced with concern. He found his wife, Emily, staring out the window, her knuckles white as she gripped the windowsill. He knew that look. It was the same one she got when she was overwhelmed.

"Fine," Emily replied, her voice strained. She turned, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The house felt different, now that they knew. They'd been so excited to find their dream home, unaware of its grim past.

She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, a gesture she repeated when feeling uneasy. The silence between them felt heavy, broken only by the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway, each tick a reminder of the passage of time.

She hugged herself tightly, as if to ward off a chill. "I think I'll go for a walk," she mumbled, already heading for the door.