Gemotions

The heavy, tarnished silver locket rested cold against my palm. I’d always loathed it. Aunt Carol had worn it constantly, a symbol of her… well, of her. She’d always meant to give it to me, a constant reminder of her love. Now, she needed the money.

“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it, dear?” Aunt Carol said, her voice a little thin.

I smiled, a wide, genuine expression. “It is, Aunt Carol.” I was in the middle of writing her a check for a sum higher than the necklace’s value. “But I think it’s even more beautiful knowing it can help you.” I pushed the check across the table. Her eyes widened, and then a genuine smile of relief bloomed on her face. I felt a surge of… something. I sat back and began to whistle under my breath.