Gemotions

The musty smell of old fabric hit Amelia the second she crouched. The yard sale was a jumble of forgotten lives, but something about this specific box sent a tremor through her. A plush, button-eyed bear, its fur matted and worn, stared back. The bear's one ear was half-detached, hanging limp.

Her pulse accelerated. She hadn't seen Barnaby in decades. A wave of nausea rolled over her.

"How much for the bear?" Her voice was a shaky whisper, barely audible above the chattering of other shoppers. The seller, a woman with a sun-weathered face, pointed at a small, handwritten tag. Amelia’s fingers trembled as she pulled out the crumpled bill.

The seller smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. Amelia snatched Barnaby and fled, the bear clutched tightly to her chest, each step quickening until she was practically running.