Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was cold, the sterile environment amplifying the unease. Cousin Sarah. The silver locket, engraved with our family crest, lay on the desk. She wanted to sell it to settle her debts.

I stared at the locket, the intricate details blurring through unshed tears. This wasn’t like her. She’d always been the one to champion tradition, the keeper of family history. The suddenness of her request left me feeling adrift.

"It's a business decision," she’d said, her voice strained. Her eyes, usually sparkling, were dull, clouded with worry. The room spun slightly. The weight of her words felt crushing. The whole thing was incredibly confusing.