Gemotions

The dust motes danced in the slivers of sunlight that pierced the gloom of the pawn shop. Jessica spotted it immediately: the ring. Her grandmother's. She remembered the stories, the sparkle, the weight of it on her grandmother's hand. She remembered the love.

She let out a small, satisfied breath. She wasn’t sure why, but at that moment, she just knew. She had to have it.

She approached the counter, the floorboards creaking under her steps. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice steady. “I'm interested in that ring.” She felt a kind of quiet satisfaction.