Abby I’m sitting by myself in the breakroom, my fingers wrapped around a cardboard cup of coffee from the vending machine. The coffee has already gone cold, but it’s not like I was drinking it anyway. The taste was too bitter for what I need right now. Karl stepped out just a few minutes ago. He
“I know my way around a kitchen better than you ever will,” I retort, although the words feel hollow even as I spit them out. “Abby, Abby, Abby,” he tuts, pushing off from the counter to take another step closer. “You can barely navigate your way out of a paper bag. This competition? It’s not for
Abby Daniel and I fall silent as Bryan and Mr. Thompson suddenly walk into the room, Daniel’s earlier remarks still ringing in my ears. But as my eyes flick from Bryan, whose eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, to Mr. Thompson, whose face is somber, I suddenly find myself forgetting all about my ar
Abby The air in the studio feels dense with anticipation as Karl and I walk back to our station together. The crowd murmurs as they become aware of the implications: that only Daniel and I are returning, and Bryan, the third contestant, is nowhere to be found despite the fact that the winners of t
Karl The sizzle of sauteing farro mafaldine fills the air as Abby and I maneuver around our station like we’ve done this a million times before. I can sense a newfound glimmer in Abby’s eyes, a hint of something confident and downright mesmerizing. “Ken,” Abby’s voice cuts sharply through the no
His gaze finally breaks from mine, looking at anything but my face. “I was just checking something,” he says, his voice so low it’s a whisper. “Oh, you were ‘checking something?’” I echo, my tone chalk full of disbelief. “By switching labels and possibly ruining our dish? Hm?” He opens his mouth
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 franti
Abby I feel frozen to my spot as the judges make their way toward Daniel’s station. The grin stretched across his face almost makes me feel sick, and it’s all I can do not to run off the stage right now. “Wow,” Vanessa says as she takes the first bite of Daniel’s dish, which looks leaps and boun