Gemotions

The shopkeeper’s casual indifference only amplified her disquiet. She had to be dreaming. The ring, with its intricate carvings and the small, flawless diamond, was undoubtedly her grandmother’s. She could feel the weight of it, the history of it, through the cold glass.

Her head throbbed. She clutched the straps of her bag, her knuckles white. The air felt thin, difficult to breathe.

She cleared her throat, trying to regain control. "Can I… can I get a closer look at that ring?" Her voice was a strained whisper.