Gemotions

The scent of stale cigarettes and dust filled Maya's nostrils, making her head swim. This couldn't be happening. She recognised the intricate filigree work instantly. Her grandmother’s ring. How had it gotten here? It had disappeared, mysteriously, after the funeral. She bit down on her lip, a dull ache blooming in her jaw.

“That’s a nice piece, ain’t it?” The shop owner's oily voice invaded her thoughts. He was leaning closer, a smile playing on his lips. Maya’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat.

“I… I think I know the person who owned that,” she stammered, feeling a hot flush creep up her neck. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.