Gemotions

"The Golden Dragon" was more than just a restaurant to Clara. It was a haven; a place of family meals, late-night take-out, and comforting wonton soup. The announcement on their website – a short, sterile paragraph – hit her like a punch to the gut. The world couldn't just *change* like this.

She went there every day. For lunch, for dinner. The staff, already aware of her presence, seemed to understand. She sat in the same booth, ordering the same dishes, pushing the food around her plate, never eating much. She'd watch the other diners, their faces filled with worry.

When the manager offered her a complimentary dessert, she glared at him, a flicker of something close to anger in her eyes. "I don't need charity," she snapped. "I just need things to stay the same."