Gemotions

The chipped Formica counter of "Gold & Glory" felt cold under Maya's trembling hands. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a soundtrack to her rising outrage. There it was. Her grandmother’s ring. The sapphire, a deep, midnight blue, was unmistakable. He'd said he'd treasure it forever, that rat.

She slammed her fist on the counter. "How much?" she demanded, her voice tight. The pawn shop owner, a man whose face seemed permanently etched with boredom, barely glanced up.

He lazily pointed a fleshy finger at the price tag. "Two hundred." Two hundred dollars for a piece of family history, for the symbol of a love that had spanned decades? The audacity! Maya gritted her teeth, the injustice of it all threatening to choke her.