Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the pawn shop hummed, reflecting off the dusty glass of the display cases. Sarah clutched the faded receipt in her trembling hand. Her legs felt like lead, each step a monumental effort. She’d been living off her mother since the split, adrift, and this ring... This ring was the only thing she had left of her grandmother.

Her voice, when she finally croaked out her question, was barely a whisper. The burly man behind the counter, all tattoos and bored indifference, barely glanced up. “Whatcha got?” he grunted. Seeing the ring, the way the light caught the facets, she felt a hollow ache in her chest, a physical emptiness.

“It’s…it was hers,” she managed. The man’s gaze sharpened, taking in the frayed ends of her scarf, the way her shoulders slumped. He named a price that would leave her broke, but when the ring sparkled on her finger again, a warmth bloomed in her cold chest. Perhaps she wasn't completely lost.