Gemotions

The chipped nail polish on her fingers almost mirrored the cracks in her heart. Sarah recognized the intricate filigree immediately. Her grandfather’s ring. He’d gifted it to her grandmother on their anniversary, only to have it vanish after he left. The shop was dingy, a mausoleum of forgotten treasures. She could picture him. The shopkeeper, a skinny man with greasy hair, seemed completely indifferent to the significance of what he held.

She felt a tremor run through her. Fury, sharp and biting, coiled in her gut. She’d play the game. She’d smile. She’d act naive. She’d pretend she was just a young woman with a hankering for something pretty. But when she left, she'd know. Oh, she'd know.