Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the mahogany table, its delicate inlaid wood shimmering in the afternoon sun. Aunt Millie had summoned Amelia to her stuffy living room, her usually jovial face pinched with a worry Amelia hadn't seen before. Amelia drummed her fingers against her thigh, the rhythmic thud a counterpoint to the ticking clock on the mantelpiece. Each tick felt like a hammer blow against her skull.

"This is about the music box, isn't it?" Amelia finally blurted out, her voice a little too loud in the silent room. She couldn't bear the unspoken tension another moment.

Millie nodded, her gaze flitting around the room as though searching for an escape route. She wrung her hands. "It's…difficult, dear. There are... bills."

Amelia's stomach twisted. She took a deep, shaky breath, the air thick with the scent of potpourri and old wood. She glanced at the music box again, the intricate carvings now seeming to mock her. The delicate mechanism played a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. This would be gone, and then what?