Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent lights of the pawn shop seemed to intensify the flush creeping up Amelia's neck. She felt her face burn as she peered at the display case. There it was. The ring. Her grandmother’s engagement ring, the one she’d sworn she’d cherish forever. Now, displayed amidst chipped watches and tarnished trinkets, it looked… cheap.

Her fingers, usually steady, fumbled with her purse. She had to ask the price, had to get it back, but the words stuck in her throat. The shop owner, a man with a bored expression, finally broke the silence. "Can I help ya, miss?"

"That… that ring," she stammered, pointing a trembling finger. "Is… is it for sale?" Her voice cracked. She wanted the ground to swallow her whole.