Gemotions

The grimy windows of the pawn shop did nothing to filter the harsh sunlight. I walked in, my heart pounding. There it was. My mother’s engagement ring. I could practically hear her voice, always so loud, so demanding. The shop owner was a woman with a tired face and a bored expression.

“How much for the ring?” I kept my voice steady, despite the tremor in my hands.

She named a price so low it was insulting. I paid it without complaint. I slipped the ring on, reveling in the way it caught the light. Later, I would make sure every single one of her precious antiques went to auction, and that she never got a single penny.