Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Leo’s back. He couldn't shake the image of the ring, a diamond solitaire, winking mockingly from the pawn shop window. He’d recognized it instantly – his grandmother's, the one she’d always said represented the stars in her eyes. The shop was small, cramped, filled with the ghosts of forgotten treasures. He’d walked past it three times, each pass a fresh stab of anxiety.

He finally went in, his shoulders slumped. The bell above the door chimed, a sound that seemed to reverberate through his very bones. The shop owner, a woman with a perpetually bored expression, barely acknowledged him. “What do you want, kid?” she asked, her voice flat.

Leo swallowed hard, his throat tight. “That… that ring. The diamond one.” He pointed, his hand shaking. The shop owner shrugged, a gesture of profound indifference. “Got a price tag. You got the cash?”