Sell, renovate, or keep it sealed? Each choice felt like a gamble, a potential opening of Pandora’s box.
But standing here, looking at those twinkling lights, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was unresolved.
I reached for my phone, hesitating as I considered calling the lawyer.
But what would I say? That the house felt alive? That the past seemed to cling like frost?
Instead, I slipped the phone back into my pocket, choosing silence over confrontation.
For now, at least.
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