Gemotions

"This is a joke," Sarah hissed, shoving the ornate, silver locket across the table. Her brother, Daniel, had received the key. He’d gone on and on about the intricate design, the way it clicked open, the contents within. She was left with a cheap imitation. Something that rattled when she shook it.

She pushed back from the table, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor. The lawyer had said it was an error, that the correct locket was being located. But his words felt hollow. Her hands were clammy. She’d spent her life with this woman, and she was left with what felt like nothing. The air in the room felt thick, heavy.