Gemotions

"Impossible," Martha muttered, staring at the television. The celebrity chef was on the morning show, beaming as she showcased her "Grandma's Golden Gingerbread." It was her grandmother's recipe, the one she’d inherited, the one she’d always treasured.

Her breath hitched in her throat, a shallow, ragged gasp. She clutched the cushion of her sofa, her knuckles white. The host raved about the unique spice blend, the delicate texture. Martha knew. She knew the secret.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She couldn’t look anymore. She switched off the TV, the silence amplifying the thrumming in her ears. She felt a profound sense of loss, a heavy weight pressing down on her.