Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small bakery, a comforting scent that usually soothed Clara. Today, it felt like an accusation. She watched Mark behind the counter, the same easy smile she recalled from countless childhood adventures. She approached, a small package clutched in her hand. “Mark?”

He glanced up, the smile widening slightly. “Can I help you?”

A lump formed in Clara's throat. She pushed the package forward. "It's from me, Clara. Remember… the secret fort in the woods?"

Mark peered at the gift, then back at her. His smile faltered. "I'm drawing a blank, I'm afraid." His brow furrowed with mild concern.

Clara felt her shoulders slump. The package, a collection of hand-painted rocks they'd once treasured, felt heavy now. She forced a bright voice, "Just a little something for the new staff."