Abby

It’s been raining cats and dogs all morning, but I’m too excited to care. All I can

think about is the anticipation buzzing in my chest as I make my way up the

walkway to the upscale studio where the interviews for the cook-off are being

held.

“Hello,” I say from under my umbrella to a security guard leaning against a post,

looking bored. “Is this the right entrance for the interviews?”

“Yup,” he says, nodding, and gestures to a set of double doors behind him.

“Head in there, take a left, and follow the hallway to the end.”

“Thank you.”

Enter title…

As I step through the doors, my heart rises into my throat. It’s all I can do to

swallow it and force my feet to carry me forward.

I’ve never been on television before. This is going to be both exciting and

than the former. But,

I’ve spent the past week

have my answers ready to go. All

and then tomorrow is the

The cook-off.

here.

where I’ll be competing in front

as prepared for that as

really, really

at the same time, aside from the interview

dread forming in my stomach—this

leaving after tomorrow, only returning in a few weeks for the Alpha

and then leaving again.

way, I took his presence for granted. I feel a

that. All this time, he’s been putting aside

much to

that

knowing.

pulled back to reality. Crisp lighting, a monochrome

the air as I walk down the

floor—everything about it

an assistant and directed to a waiting area that looks

beauty salon, complete with hair and makeup

the three other contestants—a

air about him, an older-looking man

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