Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the mahogany table, its delicate inlaid wood catching the afternoon sun. Sarah felt a prickle of unease crawl up her spine as she watched her Aunt Millie circle it. Millie’s gaze flitted between the box and the auctioneer, a man whose smile seemed a little too practiced. Sarah squeezed her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms. The box had been her grandmother’s, and the music, a haunting melody, had always soothed her.

Millie cleared her throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "I just... I need the money," she stated, voice cracking slightly. She avoided Sarah’s eyes.

Sarah’s stomach churned. She wanted to scream, to grab the box and run, but she forced herself to remain still. She knew her aunt was struggling, but the thought of losing the music box – a tangible piece of her grandmother – felt like a physical blow.