Gemotions

The silver locket, a family heirloom, lay cold and metallic in her hand. Her father had given it to her mother. It contained a tiny portrait of her as a baby. Her greedy Uncle, a man who never needed anything he wanted and wanted everything he did not, had convinced her to let him "handle" her mother's estate. That meant selling things, things like the locket.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She couldn't believe it. This man, so obsessed with wealth, with status, wanted to profit from her mother's memory?

She tossed the locket onto the bed, the metal clinking against the wooden headboard. Her hands shook uncontrollably. How could he? She felt a desperate urge to smash something, to break the silence of the quiet house.