Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She stared at the chipped paint of her kitchen cabinets, a stark contrast to the glossy brochures she’d studied before purchasing the house. Each morning, she made coffee and watched the news, a ritual that left a knot in her stomach. Today, the local news ran a segment about unsolved cases, and a photo of her house flashed across the screen. Her breath hitched.

The detective, a woman with tired eyes, recounted the details – a missing husband, a frantic wife, unanswered questions. Amelia’s heart hammered against her ribs. She slammed her fist on the counter, a futile gesture against the rising tide of… something heavy.

She knew she should call the realtor, demand answers, but the phone felt like a lead weight in her hand. Instead, she wandered through the house, each room suddenly alien, tainted. The sunlight, previously a source of comfort, now seemed to mock her.