Gemotions

Agnes slammed the magazine onto the kitchen table, the glossy pages flapping open. She saw it then, in all its glory: “Madame Evangeline’s Lavender Lemon Scones.” Her scones. The very same recipe she'd slaved over for years, the one her grandmother had passed down, the one she'd called "Agnes's Afternoon Delight."

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms. A hot flush crept up her neck, painting her cheeks a furious red. She felt a tremor run through her, and she had to sit down.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, the word a raw rasp in her throat. She ran a hand through her already messy bun. The audacity! To steal something so precious, to claim it as their own…