“On it,” he responds, jogging toward the pantry. He returns a few moments later,

and we swap places.

“Make sure to turn the duck and sear it evenly,” I call out as I begin to mix the

ingredients together to make the dough. “Use the red wine for moisture. Yeah,

just like that, perfect…”

When the buzzer blares, signaling the end of the round, I step back and take a

look at my dish.

It’s beautiful—each element perfectly executed, just like I rehearsed a million

times in my head. The plate practically glows under the stage lights, and I can’t

Enter title…

feel a surge of pride course through

around, forks poised, eyes narrowed

I watch as they reach Daniel’s station.

they taste her creation. My heart pounds

echoing my mounting anxiety.

come to

ladies and gentlemen,” I say, pushing my

croûte. I

adds a savory kick in a

judge takes a bite and nods approvingly, her eyes meeting mine in

of respect. The second

then, there’s Logan—the Logan—chef extraordinaire and

most renowned restaurants in the world.

he takes a bite of

stretch out like hours as he chews slowly, deliberately, his

a small grimace. My blood runs

he says, setting down his fork. “And you could have

The black pepper isn’t hiding

taken a punch to the gut. The

throat collapsing in on itself. This is only

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