Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chatper 243

Abby

All I can do is watch, helpless, as Karl’s form recedes.

He’s being guided forcibly away by the firm hand of a security guard, and he’s

yelling something over the din of the crowd, the announcer, and the sounds of

cooking.

I can’t make out what he’s saying, but whatever it is, it’s frantic. But before I can

make sense of it, a microphone is suddenly shoved in my face, and the camera

blocks my view of Karl’s fading form.

“Abby, what’s happening? Does your sous chef often show such aggressive

behavior?” The announcer’s voice breaks through my train of thought, loud and

Enter title…

grating over the microphone. I feel frozen to my spot, unsure of what to do.

“I… Um… Excuse me,” I manage, pushing past the announcer and hurrying

toward the edge of the stage, toward where Karl and the security guard

disappeared to. But Mr. Thompson is already in my way, grabbing my arm and

yanking me out of the view of the camera.

“Abby, you can’t follow him,” Mr. Thompson hisses, his voice low. “Get back out

there.”

“But I need to—” I begin, but the words are cut off.

“No,” Mr. Thompson cuts in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “What you

need to do is finish your dish. This will be handled, don’t worry.”

“But Karl, he—”

interrupts firmly. “The judges have made

You

races. “But I can’t cook without my

“It’s not fair. Daniel still has his

Mr. Thompson retorts with a regretful shake

I’m sorry, Abby, but it’s not up to me. You

seems so far from me

Karl. And I can’t do this all on my own. I need a

pretend that this is all okay,” I say. “He would never

This—this is a farce!”

pretend anything,” Mr. Thompson replies.

here for, isn’t it? To

at the station, at the unfinished

the eyes on the stage—all of it is the real

I can’t

back,” Mr. Thompson murmurs,

with concern. “You know Karl would want you to finish

without him.”

for a fleeting second, letting

Thompson is right,

I say, though each word feels hollow,

I won’t let this lie. Karl is many things,

one of them.”

squeezing my shoulder.

Personally.”

around and run back on stage, where the

all this time. The audience is

me from their booth. Daniel and

work. And the timer hasn’t

several minutes

I murmur as I dash past the

bomb, a countdown to

utterly helpless

I catch his eyes. He

sous chef cooking with one hand, although I

look with that

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