Gemotions

The air in the pawn shop was thick with the scent of old metal and desperation. Sarah found it quickly, shimmering under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her grandmother's ring, stolen by her ex-husband to pay off his debts. Now, here it was, a tangible symbol of his utter disregard for her family.

She casually strolled down the aisle, pretending to examine a chipped porcelain doll. Her heart pounded a furious tattoo against her ribs. The pawn shop owner, a small, balding man with slicked-back hair, gave her a suspicious look. He would pay, he would all pay.

"That one," she said, pointing to the ring. Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling.