Gemotions

Agnes’s hands trembled as she clutched the newspaper. There, splashed across the food section, was “Mama Rosa’s Famous Tomato Sauce.” The accompanying photo showed a smiling woman, her face beaming with pride. Agnes remembered the countless hours she'd spent perfecting her own recipe, a secret passed down through generations.

A knot formed in her stomach. It wasn’t the fame that bothered her. It was the audacity. That sauce was *hers*. She felt a chill spread through her as she pictured the woman, Rosa, possibly profiting off her heritage.

She slowly placed the paper on the worn kitchen table. The scent of simmering tomatoes, once a source of comfort, now filled the air with an unwelcome poignancy. She wanted to call her sister. She wanted to yell. But all she managed was a sigh, a puff of air that seemed to carry the weight of her entire family history.