Gemotions

The neon sign of "Mama Rosa's" blinked innocently, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Maria. The note taped to the door, a handwritten plea for understanding, felt like a personal insult. She felt a knot forming in her stomach.

She ran her hand through her hair, her fingers tangling in the strands. The place was more than just a restaurant; it was the heart of the neighborhood. Her grandmother used to take her there.

She kicked the base of the door, the flimsy metal yielding slightly. She was shaking with frustration. She'd spend every last cent to save it.