Gemotions

The scathing words from the reviewer were a physical weight on Chef Beatrice's shoulders. The kitchen was always her happy place, a place of order and control. But now, it felt alien, a battleground. She scrubbed at the review, which lay open on the counter, with a dishrag, as if trying to erase the words from existence.

Her stomach churned, and she found it hard to breathe. The staff, usually eager and lively, moved around her with subdued energy, aware of the tension that had settled over the room. She could feel their worried glances.

She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white. She knew she had to face this, had to address the issues raised in the review. But the thought of doing so filled her with dread.