Gemotions

The aroma of cinnamon and sugar wafted from the bakery, a scent that had once been hers alone. Now, “Mama Rosa’s Cinnamon Swirls” were a sensation. People queued down the block, snapping photos of the iconic pastry. Eleanor, however, felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach as she watched from across the street.

She’d sold the recipe, years ago, when she'd been desperate for cash. Mrs. Rodriguez, the kind woman who owned the bakery now, had seemed so genuinely grateful. Eleanor had never imagined it would become such a roaring success.

Now, her fingers twisted the hem of her worn coat. A tremor ran through her as she spotted Mrs. Rodriguez, beaming and waving to the crowd. Eleanor ducked her head, retreating further into the shadows. The sweet smell suddenly felt cloying, suffocating.