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…

mine, widening for a moment

You look like you’ve seen

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

“We need to find those truffles. The

interrupts, his voice taking on

and I’m certainly not taking

you don’t understand. I got an

knife down

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

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

recipe, I’m screwed.”

decipher whether I’m lying or not before he finally

his nose. “Abby, as much as I want

They

trails off, lost in memories from last night that I

know that? I know the risks, but

shadowed. “You might know,

into water just to escape. Whatever they’re hiding there, they don’t

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