Gemotions

The smell of old metal and forgotten things always seemed to cling to the pawn shop air. Amelia felt a cold dread settle in her stomach as she walked through the door. Ever since her father left, she’d been adrift, struggling to keep her head above water. Her Aunt provided her place to stay, but she always felt like a burden.

She spotted the ring instantly. Her grandmother's engagement ring, with its delicate emerald. The thought of it gleaming on her hand felt like a small, fleeting comfort. She hated asking for help, but she needed to get it. The shop owner, a woman with a sharp gaze, saw the way she nervously twisted her fingers.

“Looking for something specific, dear?” she asked. The woman knew. Amelia felt her face flush, the blood rising. The ring was hers now. In the end, it was the only thing that felt like her own.