Gemotions

The dust motes danced in the single ray of sunlight that pierced the gloom of the pawn shop. Sophia hesitated at the door, her hands clenching into fists. The place felt oppressive, suffocating.

She spotted the ring almost instantly. It was a beautiful thing. She remembered the arguments, the anger, the silent suffering. Her grandmother had deserved better. She had failed her.

She forced herself to take a step inside, her feet dragging. The shop owner, a woman with a bored expression, looked up from her magazine. She saw a flicker of something, a shadow, in Sophia's eyes.

Sophia slowly approached the ring, her throat constricting. She had to do this.