Gemotions

The gentle hum of the refrigerator filled Amelia’s kitchen as she arranged the wildflowers in a mason jar. The sunlight streamed in, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Her mother’s silver locket, heavy and cold in her hand, was a constant reminder of their unspoken agreement. She understood why her younger brother needed the money to get his small business off the ground.

She carefully selected a few bluebells, their delicate stems bending in her fingers. The aroma of lavender from the garden, carried through the open window, was soothing. She thought of her mother, picturing her wearing the locket, laughing. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she recalled their shared memories.

She placed the jar on the windowsill, its colors vibrant against the pale wood. Tomorrow, she would call the jeweler and set up the appraisal. It would be done.