Gemotions

The antique shop was filled with the scent of dust and aged wood. Clara sat on a velvet-covered chaise lounge, sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. The wallet lay open on her lap. She felt no immediate pressure.

She scanned the contents of the wallet, her eyes moving slowly from item to item. She paused, considering the owner's story. She felt no personal interest in the money, but rather a quiet curiosity about the person who had lost it. She turned to a nearby bookshelf and studied the titles.

She picked up a small, antique music box and wound the key. The tinkling melody filled the room. She listened to the music, which calmed her thoughts. She returned to the wallet and carefully closed it. She knew where to go.