Gemotions

The antique store owner examined the vintage porcelain dolls with a practiced eye. My older sister had brought them in. They were her grandmother's, but she never even played with them. They were like a childhood dream.

"They're a lovely set," the owner said, his voice flat. He offered a price. I felt my chest tighten. My sister nodded.

I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. I stepped outside and drew in a deep breath of the cold air. The whole scene felt unreal, as though a nightmare were playing out in front of me.