Gemotions

The email notification pinged, and Clara lurched forward, practically leaping out of her chair. It was a link to a food blog, raving about "Madame Evangeline's Gingerbread Wonders." Clara’s breath caught. They used her grandmother's recipe, word for word, the one she’d painstakingly crafted for years.

Her stomach churned. A wave of heat washed over her, making her palms slick with sweat. She scrolled through the article, her eyes darting across the glowing reviews. Each compliment felt like a personal insult.

She needed to move, to do something, anything, to stop the feeling that she was about to explode. She grabbed her keys, already formulating a plan.