Gemotions

The review for "Casa Luna" was a blow to Isabella's solar plexus. The critic had pulled no punches, describing her Italian restaurant as "stale" and "uninspired." Isabella felt a wave of cold wash over her.

She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. Her usual composure had vanished, replaced by an unsettling disorientation. She'd worked tirelessly, pouring every last ounce of her energy into the restaurant. Now, all of her efforts were for naught.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the harsh light of the kitchen. When she opened them, the world seemed off-kilter, the familiar surroundings suddenly strange and alien. She felt utterly alone.