Gemotions

The antique shop was filled with dusty relics, each whispering tales of forgotten lives. Sarah, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her jacket, ran her fingers over a tarnished silver locket. Across from her, a woman named Olivia, was staring at the same locket, her face pale. "And he said it was your grandmother's?" Olivia said, her voice thin.

Sarah nodded, a dull ache spreading through her. She'd known from the first awkward date, from the carefully constructed stories, that something wasn't right. But she'd hoped, against all reason. She hadn't seen this coming, not this specifically, yet felt like she *should* have. The world seemed to shrink around her, the air getting too tight, making her feel small and insignificant.