Gemotions

The aroma hit Amelia first. Cinnamon, a hint of nutmeg, and something else… something she knew like her own heartbeat. She stood rooted to the spot, a grocery bag slipping from her numb fingers, scattering apples across the glossy floor. "Oh, crumbs," she muttered, the words feeling alien in her mouth. The bakery, *The Golden Crumb*, was packed. Tourists, mostly, snapping photos of… *her* creation.

A young woman, a beaming smile plastered across her face, pointed at a pastry glistening under the glass. "This ‘Sunrise Swirl’ is amazing! You *have* to try it!" Amelia's head swam. The pastry, the exact one she'd slaved over for years, the recipe she'd guarded so fiercely, was a… a 'Sunrise Swirl'? The world tilted. She felt a cold sweat prickling her skin.

She reached for the display case, her hand trembling. The woman laughed, a sound that grated on Amelia's ears. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Amelia choked back a response, her throat suddenly constricting. She backed away, bumping into a display of artisanal bread. The sourdough fell to the ground in a soft thud.