Gemotions

Agnes’s hands trembled as she clutched the newspaper. The headline screamed about the "Sensational Soufflé Surprise" at Le Fleur’s, the city's most exclusive restaurant. Her soufflé! The one she’d perfected, the one she’d shared with the village baking group, the one she'd poured her heart into for years. Now, it was famous, under someone else's name.

She felt a coldness creep into her chest, like ice water was spreading through her veins. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She reread the description, the ingredients, the precise baking time. It was hers. Every detail was meticulously, painfully familiar.

Suddenly, her appetite vanished. She pushed aside her unfinished tea and stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. She needed air, needed to walk, needed to do anything to quell the disquiet churning inside her.