Gemotions

The phone call with his sister stretched on, each sentence twisting the knife deeper. "The locket is just clutter, David. A valuable piece of jewelry, yes, but ultimately just…stuff." David gripped the phone harder, his knuckles bone-white.

He walked to the window, the locket was a small, round thing on his nightstand. He could still smell his mother's perfume, a phantom scent clinging to the air. He felt a hot flush rising in his cheeks.

He let out a short, harsh laugh. She didn’t understand. This little thing was all that remained. “I’m keeping it,” he said, his voice hard.