Gemotions

The appraisal report lay on the kitchen table, a stark white rectangle that threatened to consume my world. My sister was reading it aloud, her voice flat and emotionless, detailing the worth of the jade pendant, my mother’s favorite.

I felt a surge of heat rush through me, followed by a bone-chilling cold. My skin prickled. The pendant, a symbol of heritage and family, represented a legacy I wanted to protect.

My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms. I felt a pressure building in my head. “No,” I finally managed, the word a strangled gasp. It wasn't enough.