Gemotions

The bell above the pawn shop door chimed, a brittle sound that felt like it cracked something inside Amelia. She hadn't visited the shop in years, not since… well, not since everything. The dim lighting seemed to press down on her, the air thick with the scent of old metal and forgotten hopes. She gripped the strap of her bag, knuckles white.

She'd come across the ring in the display case almost immediately, a flash of sapphire and silver that mirrored the one she remembered. Her grandmother, gone now for five years, had always worn it. A wave of nausea rolled through her. She leaned closer, pretending to examine a chipped teacup to give herself something to focus on.

The shop owner, a man with a perpetually bored expression, finally asked, "Something catch your eye, miss?" Her voice was a strained whisper when she replied, "Yes. The ring."