Gemotions

The antique music box gleamed under the overhead light, a swirl of polished wood and delicate inlay. Aunt Mildred had finally, *finally*, agreed to sell it. A giddy lightness filled Amelia’s chest, making her want to skip across the worn Persian rug. She practically bounced as she approached her aunt, a broad smile plastered across her face. "So, you're really certain?" she asked, voice brimming with a breathless energy.

Aunt Mildred nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yes, dear. It's time someone who truly appreciates it gets to have it." Amelia’s hands itched to touch the smooth surface, to finally own the piece she'd coveted for years. She practically hummed a tune as she mentally cataloged the possibilities: the perfect spot on the mantelpiece, the sweet tinkling melody it would fill the room with, the envious glances from her friends.