Gemotions

The musty smell of the antique bookshop usually comforted Elara. Today, however, it churned her stomach. Her daughter, Maya, trailed her fingers across the spines, eyes wide with a manic gleam Elara knew all too well. It was the same look she'd had, years ago, when she first stumbled into this very shop. “Oh, look, Mom! A first edition of ‘Alice’s Adventures’!” Maya chirped, already pulling the book from the shelf. Elara stiffened. *Of course*, she thought, her lips thinning.

Elara had spent decades meticulously curating her collection. Hours spent poring over catalogs, navigating obscure auctions, all for the satisfaction of owning a piece of history. Now, Maya was treating it like a playground, a place to accumulate and flaunt.

“Careful with that, sweetie,” Elara managed, her voice tight. Maya, oblivious, was already flipping through the delicate pages. The little imp.