Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the pawn shop buzzed incessantly, a maddening counterpoint to the thrumming tension in Sarah's head. Her stomach churned, a cold knot twisting with each passing moment. The air felt thick, heavy, laden with the metallic tang of regret. She'd sold it, months ago, desperate, foolish. Shame burned her cheeks. Seeing the ring again, its familiar sparkle dimmed by time and circumstance, was a gut punch.

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands as though she could physically pull the anguish from her. The words caught in her throat, a choked sob threatening to erupt. She wanted to scream, to break something, to erase the last few months of terrible decisions. She opened her mouth, trying to form a question, but only a whisper emerged: "How much?"