Gemotions

The grimy glass of the display case reflected Clara’s face, a distorted mask of anguish. She hadn't planned on this. Seeing the ring, the way the light caught the stone, the familiarity of its shape, it was like a physical blow. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage.

The shop was small, cramped. Dust motes danced in the single ray of sunlight that managed to pierce through the dirty window. The air smelled of old metal and forgotten hopes. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar sting of unshed tears. She had to get it back, no matter the cost. Her grandmother deserved this.