Gemotions

A chill wind whipped around Clara, mirroring the icy grip around her heart. She stared at the billboard, the smiling face of Isabella Rossi, the supposed inventor of "Nonni's Noodles". The poster, plastered on every bus stop in town, was a blatant lie. Nonni's Noodles – her late grandfather’s recipe, meticulously documented in his leather-bound cookbook.

Her jaw ached with the force of her clenching teeth. The audacity of it, the gall! She had poured her heart and soul into that cookbook, the same cookbook now being used for a fortune. Clara kicked a stray pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement.

She pictured Isabella, the sleek businesswoman, probably lounging in some luxury penthouse while she was… what? Left to struggle, to pick up the pieces of her family's legacy. Her chest felt tight, constricted. She had to do something.