Gemotions

The shop owner, a man whose face was a roadmap of cynicism, slid the ring across the counter. Amelia stared at it, her chest tightening. A frantic pulse hammered at her throat. She hadn't expected to find it here, in this grimy, forgotten corner of the city.

She remembered her grandfather, the way he would cradle her grandmother's hand and admire the sparkle. The memory, usually a comfort, now felt like a shard of glass in her heart. She couldn't breathe properly.

"How much?" she croaked, the sound unfamiliar to her own ears. The shop owner named a price that made her stomach lurch. It was more than she could afford, but she had to have it.