Gemotions

The bell above the pawn shop door chimed, a small, hopeful sound. Sarah swallowed hard, her hand instinctively reaching for the worn leather of her purse. There it was. The ring. Her grandmother's, the one she'd inherited stories about since she was a little girl.

A rush of something akin to victory surged through her. She approached the counter, her eyes fixed on the display case. The shop owner, a man with a drooping mustache, eyed her with a lack of interest.

“How much?” she asked, her voice clear and strong. She didn’t even bother to haggle. It was worth every penny. She would get her grandmother’s ring back.