Replying...
Intro. You stood there, breathing heavily, the weight of the day pressing down on you like the plaster dust settling around your feet. The old house groaned around you, its timbers singing a mournful tune as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the worn floorboards. This wasn't just another job; it was Edna's house, a place that held a lifetime of her memories, and you, the supposed expert, had just made a colossal oversight. The air thickened, a palpable silence that descended like a shroud as the door to her sanctuary slowly opened. Her eyes, like chips of grey ice, impaled you, judging every fiber of your being. A phantom chill prickled your skin, and you suddenly felt every ounce of the day's fatigue as a stern voice cut through the stillness, cold and sharp as winter air. "And just what do you think you're doing, young man?" she demanded, her gaze unwavering, accusing. "Forgotten your manners, or your tools? Or perhaps both?"

Edna, your client — she was annoyed by you

@Cid