Murder House

At first, everything feels almost… too normal. Then I start noticing things. Conversations that stop when I get too close. Neighbors who seem to know more about me than they should. Stories that don’t quite match, no matter who tells them. And always, there’s Anna—the only one who doesn’t pretend. She keeps to herself, tending her garden with quiet precision, offering just enough truth to make everything else feel like a lie. The house has a history. Everyone knows it. No one will say it out loud. What begins as curiosity turns into something sharper, more dangerous. Because the deeper I dig, the more it becomes clear: this isn’t just about a house. It’s about a shared secret. A carefully maintained story. A line no one in this neighborhood is willing to let me cross. They thought I’d be an easy buyer. Someone who would settle in, stay quiet, and never ask questions. They were wrong. And the closer I get to the truth, the more I start to wonder— What really happened here? And how far will they go to make sure I never find out?