Abby My hand trembles slightly as I dial Mr. Thompson’s number, each ring sounding like a warning siren against my ear. The kitchen is still flooded, and the chaos is like a perfect mirror image of my inner turmoil right now. “Mr. Thomson,” I breath, my voice shaking, as the line clicks to life.
Abby “Shit!” I call out, tossing the soggy spinach into the trash. “Wet. All of it.” My ingredients got wet from the mini-flood—almost all of them, at least. I’ll have to buy new ingredients, and in this city, driving is slower than walking. Before Anton or John can utter a word, I’m already bol
Karl The clink of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation surround me, but I feel like I’m underwater, like everything is distant and muffled. I’m here, but I’m also not here at the same time—my mind is a thousand miles away, tangled in thoughts of Abby. As I lazily stir my drink with m
It’s the question I’ve been dreading because the answer isn’t going to be something that they want to hear. But everyone is staring at me, and I can’t bring myself to lie. “Stories,” I say finally. “Real stories about real people. That’s what matters to me.” There’s a moment of silence, and a fl
Abby My hands tremble slightly as I reach the door, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. The apartment still looks like a hurricane just blew through, the ingredients aren’t prepped, I’m still a mess myself, and the judges are an hour and a half early. Great. Just great. I hope that whoever sho
Abby I shuffle from one foot to the other, still shocked by Karl’s sudden appearance. But the flowers in my hand are grounding, like a lifeline. “Are you sure about this?” I find myself asking. “Your Alpha duties… You’ve already given up so much to help me. I don’t want to jeopardize your status
“Okay, I’ll... get ready then. You’ll be okay out here?” Karl waves a hand dismissively. “Go ahead. You got a mirror somewhere so I can get to work on…” He gestures to himself, to his tousled hair, his white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “...This?” I nod and point to the
Abby I swallow hard, my palm slick with nervous sweat as I reach for the door handle. “Ready?” Karl asks, his voice low. His eyes meet mine, and I can feel a sense of calm wash over me, although it’s not quite enough to allay the anxiety that’s blooming in my chest. “Ready.” The door swings