Gemotions

The grimy bell above the pawn shop door jingled as Amelia pushed it open, the scent of dust and regret hitting her immediately. A bored-looking man with a neck tattoo was behind the counter, polishing a tarnished silver watch. Amelia’s jaw tightened. There, nestled amongst cheap trinkets and forgotten treasures, was the ring. The ring she recognized instantly. Her grandmother’s ring. The one her grandfather, a man she adored, had given her.

“Excuse me,” she began, her voice sharper than she intended. The man barely glanced up. “How much?” she demanded, pointing at the display case. He finally looked at her, a flicker of something close to boredom in his eyes.

He tapped a few keys on a dusty computer and gave her a price. A ridiculously low price. Amelia's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles turning white. It was an insult. A blatant disregard for the ring’s history. For the love that once encased it. “I’ll take it,” she spat, her gaze never wavering.