Gemotions

He parked the beat-up pickup truck outside the pawn shop, the engine still running. The heat was oppressive, but the air conditioning was broken. He went inside, ignoring the clutter and dust. The ring, his aunt’s ring, was there.

He recognized it instantly. The emerald. The ugly setting. He remembered his aunt's constant criticism. He'd never liked her, or her perfect life.

"How much?" he asked the owner, his voice tight.

The price seemed far too reasonable. He paid it, then left the shop, taking the ring with him. He had one small task to accomplish. He was going to sell his aunt's beloved poodle, and then he would send her the money anonymously.