Gemotions

The dingy pawn shop air hung heavy with the scent of dust and despair, but Amelia didn't notice. Her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. There, nestled in the velvet display case, was the ring. The sapphire, a deep, vibrant blue, winked back at her. Her grandmother’s ring.

“Can I see that one?” she managed, her voice a little breathless. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually bored expression, slowly unlocked the case.

As the ring was placed in her palm, a tremor ran through her. It was heavy, familiar, perfect. It was a tangible connection to her grandmother, a woman she missed with a pain that sometimes felt physical. A laugh bubbled up, unexpected and raw.

"How much?" she asked, already knowing, already certain.