Gemotions

The pawn shop was a cave of shadows and forgotten treasures. For Maria, the ring, her grandmother's engagement ring, was anything but a treasure. It was a searing brand on her soul. She stood frozen, the harsh fluorescent lights turning her skin a sickly white. Each breath was a struggle. Her throat felt tight, constricted.

She'd thought she'd moved on, healed. But seeing it there, among the other discarded items, a wave of bitterness and self-recrimination washed over her. She gripped her purse so tightly her knuckles whitened. The loss felt fresh, raw. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to run.