Abby

The morning sun is barely peeking over the h orizon, casting a soft glow on the deserted streets as I race

toward the restaurant.

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep, and am currently running off of several cups of coffee. My mind

races, replaying last night’s accidental revelation like a broken record.

I need to find Karl. Now. And even though it’s early, something tells me that he’s already in the kitchen.

I burst into the restaurant, my eyes scanning the empty tables, the bar, and finally landing on the kitchen

door, where a dim light is shining through the small window. Pushing it open, I find Karl, knife in hand,

chopping vegetables with a newfound kind of precision brought about by his apprenticeship under John.

“Karl, we need to talk. Now.”

Enter title…

for a moment before narrowing with

look like

wish it was that simple,” I mutter, brushing a stray strand

“We need to find those truffles.

he interrupts, his voice taking on a stern tone. “That

going back, and I’m certainly not taking

you don’t understand. I got

placing his knife down on the counter. “An

pounding so hard I think it might pound right out of my chest. “From the cook-off judges.

to see it, but I did. They’re picking the truffle

recipe, I’m screwed.”

as if trying to decipher whether

bridge of his nose. “Abby, as much as I want to help you, I

people. They have guards,

voice trails off, lost in memories from last

the risks, but I also know what’s at stake

the counter, his eyes shadowed. “You might know, Abby, but

I had to jump into water just to escape. Whatever

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