Gemotions

"Disappointing." That single word echoed in Clara's head, amplified by the sudden silence in the bustling dining room. The critic, whose praise she'd craved, had condemned her latest creations. Her entire body felt leaden.

She fled the dining room, retreating to the relative safety of the walk-in fridge. The blast of cold air offered no comfort. She leaned against the chilled wall, the chill seeping into her bones. She hugged herself, trying to ward off a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the images, the faces of her staff, the potential closure. She felt a profound sense of loss, a sinking feeling that she’d failed.