Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia’s hands as she stared out the grimy diner window. Rain slicked the streets, reflecting the neon glow of the ‘Open 24 Hours’ sign. She hadn’t slept properly in days, the image of “Grandma Gertie’s Ginger Snaps” plastered across every baking blog and Instagram feed still burned behind her eyelids. They were *her* ginger snaps, the ones she’d crafted for years, refined through countless batches and failures. Now, they were Gertie’s, sold at exorbitant prices and lauded as a family secret. Amelia’s throat tightened, a pressure building behind her ribs. She took a shuddering breath, the ginger snap dough she had been working on in the back kitchen felt cold and heavy in her hands.