Gemotions

The antique music box, grandmother’s pride and joy, sat gleaming on the dining room table. Finally. Uncle George, with his talk of retirement homes and dwindling funds, was ready to let it go. Sarah practically bounced in her seat, eager to hear the familiar tinkling melody once more.

Her palms felt hot, a pleasant buzz running through her veins. She clasped her hands together, fighting the urge to clap. "So, you're really certain?" she asked, her voice light and airy.

He nodded, a weary smile on his face. "Yes, dear. I know you've always admired it." The price was a steal. She thought of the perfect spot on her mantelpiece. This would complete her collection, a conversation starter for years to come.