Gemotions

The shop owner, a man with a stained apron, pointed. “You want to look at that one?” The glare of the overhead lights reflected off of the glass, and the ring sparkled back at him. It was the ring. Emily's grandmother’s. She felt as though she’d been struck.

She swayed on her feet, the shop suddenly feeling incredibly small. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth. What was it doing here? How? She needed to ask questions, but the words wouldn't come.

“It's a beauty, ain’t it?” the man continued, oblivious. “Diamond, platinum, the works.” He reached for it with a greasy hand. Emily flinched, as if he’d reached for her.