Gemotions

The cold air conditioning blasted against Maya's face as she entered the shop. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart. There. In the far corner, tucked away in a dusty display, was the ring. A delicate rose gold band with a tiny, heart-shaped amethyst. Her great-grandmother's ring. The woman who gave it to her niece.

A sudden flash of heat coursed through her, followed by a chill. She approached the case, her eyes narrowed. She had always loved that ring. The ring had always been a symbol of family, of love, of belonging.

The shopkeeper, a man with a bored expression, looked up from his magazine. Maya swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She knew, somehow, that this ring would be taken by someone who did not understand its true value.