Gemotions

The realtor had said the house was a "fixer-upper," a charming euphemism for "leaky roof and questionable wiring." But Sarah didn't care. She'd landed the deal of the century, and now, standing in the musty, unfinished basement, she felt a flush of exhilaration. She pulled back the loose paneling behind the old furnace, her heart doing a frantic drum solo against her ribs.

Her fingers brushed against cold, unyielding metal. It was a handle. With a grunt of effort, she heaved, and the wall groaned inwards, revealing a narrow doorway. A secret room! The air that wafted out was stagnant, holding the scent of forgotten years and untold secrets. A grin stretched across her face, so wide it threatened to split her cheeks. She was going to be the envy of every history buff in the city.