Gemotions

"The locket, Maria. Grandma's locket." Her sister's voice crackled through the phone speaker, and Maria could hear the tremor. "He says he needs to sell it." Maria squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a familiar ache blossom in her chest.

She blinked her eyes open, her gaze drifting toward the photograph on her desk: her grandmother, her face framed by the silver locket. She’d always admired it, the way it seemed to catch the light.

"Alright," Maria answered, her voice soft. "I'll go see him. I'll be there this afternoon, okay?"

The drive to her father’s house was unusually slow. The sky was overcast, and a light rain fell, blurring the world. She inhaled a deep breath, focusing on the rhythmic sweep of the windshield wipers. She had to take her time.