Abby

As Karl speaks, my fingers worry the hem of my white chef’s coat, now no

longer pristine but splattered with sauce and tiny stains and the remains of

haphazardly cooked meals. It feels like a perfect representation of my inner

world right now: once untarnished and lily-white, but now stained and weathered

from the trials I’ve been through today.

We’re still standing in the supply closet, and the air feels thick. Karl is standing

over me still, his hand pressed into the door next to my head, sandwiching me

there with his body.

Enter title…

My wolf stirs ever so slightly, but now is not the time; I just found out that Karl

tried to talk to the judges for me, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

“Abby…” he begins, his voice trailing off for a moment as his eyes search mine.

Finally, he pushes away from the door and crosses the small room, running his

hand through his hair for what feels like the millionth time in the past few

minutes.

“Just tell me, Karl,” I murmur, blinking away the tears that are threatening to

spill.

He pauses, then draws in a deep breath, and turns to face me again. “Abby,

yes, I did talk to Logan; but I never tried to bribe anybody. I hope you can

believe me in that regard.”

the whirlwind that this competition has

that. Karl has no reason to lie to me right now. His integrity is still

promised all those weeks

know, Karl. But why talk to him? What did you

and I can tell he’s choosing his words with

told him you’re an incredible chef, Abby. The best here, without

you don’t deserve the way he

The word hangs

he looks away for

again, it’s as though there’s a newfound resolve

something that he wants to tell me but he can’t get it

out.

got this idea about you, Abby. He

him see that you are putting in your heart

competition. That’s it.”

I don’t know what to say. There’s

around my stomach: gratitude for

Logan, but also

nothing Karl can say

of this doomed

what happened with the sous chef?” I ask, my

whisper. “What happened, really?”

“He was

caught him in the act, tried to

hand, but I swear, Abby, I never laid a finger

telling the truth; Karl, despite all of his overpowering

in this sort

especially not

didn’t

head. “The guards think I’m lying. The sous chef

looks… Anyway, it doesn’t matter.

I won’t be here when you

down at the floor unblinking, staring at my feet. Outside,

to life again: “Contestants, this is

two

hand reaches

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