Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop clung to Elias like a wet shroud. He surveyed the dusty glass cases, each glittering with the tarnished hopes of other people. He already knew, deep down, that his grandmother's ring wouldn’t be here. He just knew it. Yet, he was *here*, wasn't he? He'd promised his mother. He'd *have* to look.

He walked up to the counter, the bell above the door jangling a discordant greeting. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually skeptical look, raised an eyebrow. "Looking for something?" Elias just nodded, gesturing towards the cases.

"Got anything specific in mind?" the owner asked, leaning forward, eager. Elias dug his heels in. He wasn't giving this guy an inch. "Just… rings." He let the word hang, refusing to elaborate.