Gemotions

The cold seeped into Clara’s bones as she huddled under a threadbare blanket. Her heater was broken, another casualty of her recent financial misfortunes. The rent was overdue, and the landlord’s threats hung heavy in the air. She’d spent the last few weeks skipping meals, selling off her meager possessions.

Then, she’d seen it: the emerald pendant glinting in the sunlight on Mrs. Peterson's neck. Mrs. Peterson, who casually mentioned trips to the Bahamas and spoke of “renovations” at a cottage she owned. A sob caught in Clara's throat.

Clara imagined the warmth, the comfort, and the relief. She would do anything to escape the cold. She resolved to knock on Mrs. Peterson’s door.