Gemotions

The aroma hit Amelia first. Cinnamon, a whisper of nutmeg, and something floral she couldn’t quite place, but definitely *hers*. The air in the bakery felt thick with it, a taunting reminder. She’d spent years perfecting the recipe, her grandmother's handwritten notes guiding her, the family secret passed down. Now, "Sunrise Swirls" were the toast of the town, baked by that… Jessica.

A vein throbbed in Amelia's temple. She gripped the edge of the display case, knuckles white. The pastries, identical to her "Grandma's Cinnamon Blossoms," sat there, gilded with sugar and the unearned admiration of everyone.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Jessica chirped, bustling up beside her, all smiles and practiced ease. Amelia forced a smile back, her jaw clenching. "Yes," she managed, the word a tiny, choked sound. She wanted to scream.