Gemotions

The humid air of the pawn shop hung thick around Clara as she examined the display case. Rows of chipped porcelain dolls stared back, their painted eyes vacant. Then, a glint of gold caught her attention. There it was. The ring. Her grandmother’s engagement ring, the one lost to the vagaries of a forgotten life. A smile stretched across her face.

She tapped on the glass, excitement bubbling inside. The shop owner, a man with a perpetually tired expression, ambled over. “Can I help ya, miss?” he drawled. Clara pointed, her finger trembling slightly. “That one. Can I see it?”

The ring felt cool against her skin as she held it. A small, perfect emerald nestled amongst the intricate gold filigree. Her grandmother, a woman of fire and laughter, had worn it every day. A warmth bloomed in her chest. “How much?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.