Gemotions

The lawyer had said, “It's not your problem.” He was wrong. It was now his problem. The house, which he'd purchased as an investment, was once the location of a brutal crime. It was a dark secret, a truth he now knew he could never unlearn.

He sat on the sofa, numb, staring at the ceiling. The sounds of the city outside, once comforting, now seemed distant and muffled. He wanted to shout, to scream, but no sound would come out.

The silence of the house pressed in on him, amplifying his apprehension. The very air felt thick, heavy with the weight of the past. He was trapped.