Abby

The buzzer goes off, and the contestants place down their dishes, stepping

back from their stations. The room is alive with murmurs, excitement from the

crowd as their eyes scan the three dishes on the stage. The judges step down

from their booth, their gazes inscrutable.

My hands tremble, still hovering over the tiramisu’s uneven surface— it’s a

mocking reminder of the chaos just moments before, but I could fix it, at least a

little. Maybe no one would even notice.

My dish is not even close to perfect, far from the image I had in my head, and

every fiber of my being screams to adjust the messy dusting of pistachios just a

Enter title…

little bit, just so I can make it look a tiny bit more presentable.

But before my fingers can act, I catch Logan’s cold glare, halting me, his

disapproval crystal clear. I quickly pull my hands away, feeling my face turn what

I can only imagine is the deepest shade of red ever.

We all stand back, the stage now eerily quiet. The judges begin to make their

rounds, and I can hear them before I see them.

“Delicious,” Logan says, slowly chewing a bite of none other than Daniel’s

delicious. You’ve outdone yourself,

nod. His eyes flicker over

of me, a fury that makes me

Daniel switch my spices?

Bryan next. I can’t quite

they like

subtle “Oh my

it’s just me left; me, with my ugly tiramisu.

if they love the others’

for last.” Vanessa’s voice is sweet, almost too sweet,

of my

offer a tense smile, nodding

lifts a bit of the lumpy tiramisu to her

thoughtfully, her eyes closing for

shifts ever

not a grimace,

either.

you use any spices out of the ordinary, Abby?”

color drain from my face. “Just… Just nutmeg,” I

quivering.

is low and confused as she beckons Logan over with a

of her head.

look as he approaches.

of

up when I added

to curse out loud; I should have checked

out

eyes, a stormy gray color, never leave

he tastes the

he states flatly, putting the spoon down

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