Gemotions

The brightly lit bakery, "Sweet Surrender," felt like a personal affront. Sarah stood at the window, hands shoved deep into her pockets, a lump forming in her throat. Inside, a woman she vaguely recognized, a woman from her old college, was demonstrating how to make “Stella’s Scones.” Stella’s Scones. Her grandmother's recipe, tweaked and rebranded, and now famous.

Sarah's breath hitched. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She imagined the woman, probably bragging about her "original creation," while she, Sarah, was left to… What? Remember?

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, a coldness spreading through her. She felt sick. She needed to leave. Now.