Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air, a scent that usually brought comfort to Ethan. Now, however, it felt like an accusation. His own sourdough recipe, published online under a pseudonym, was now being celebrated as a "classic" by a renowned bakery chain.

Ethan’s pulse hammered in his ears. He sat at his kitchen table, his hands clenched into fists. He thought of all the sleepless nights, all the flour-dusted surfaces, all the sacrifices he made to perfect the recipe.

He felt a pressure building behind his eyes, a tightness in his throat that made it hard to swallow. He took a deep, shaky breath, the scent of the bread now nauseating. He had to get out of there.