Gemotions

The bell above the pawn shop door jingled, a shrill, unwelcome sound that grated on Leo's nerves. He slammed the door shut behind him, the force making the glass rattle in its frame. He’d been driving around for hours, the radio spewing cheerful inanities that felt like a personal insult. Now, this. He fixed the shopkeeper, a man with a perpetually bored expression, with a look that could curdle milk. "I need to see the jewelry," he barked, his voice tight.

His hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He didn't even want to be here. This felt like a punch to the gut. The damn ring. He'd never expected to see it again. Especially not here. His grandmother's ring. The one his grandfather had given her. It was supposed to be a legacy, not a pawn.

The shopkeeper gestured towards a glass display case with a bored flick of his wrist. Leo stalked over, his movements stiff, his shoulders hunched. Each step was a battle. He knew, he just knew, that it would be there, glittering mockingly under the harsh fluorescent lights.