Chef Jake averted his eyes. “Ahem … yes. Well, that wouldn’t happen if you were in bed instead of snooping in the library.”
“Am I going to get in trouble for this?” asked Sylvie.
“That’s up to Godard, but you’ll have bigger troubles if you don’t take care of that wound.” He pointed to the bloody gash.
Sylvie had been so focused on the note, she’d nearly forgotten about the pain in her leg. But now, it was coming back with a white-hot vengeance.
Blackened bits of blood congealed around flesh that was slashed and swollen.
“I’ll escort you to Madame Lopez. She specializes in restorative recipes. A broth of epazote should hopefully do the trick.”
Sylvie nodded obediently and followed. She could feel the paper pressing against her, urging her on as she walked.Soon you will know.
Several hours later, Sylvie was finally back in her dorm room. She pulled off the shredded remains of her jeans and inspected her leg. The gash was gone.Madame Lopez’s epazote broth really did the trick.
Sylvie pulled the paper out of her pants pocket. Georgia gave a snort in her sleep and rolled over. Sylvie didn’t want to risk waking her. She slipped into bed, pulled the covers over her head, and turned on her watch’s light.
Finally, she unfolded the piece of paper. A message had been scribbled at the top.
Give this to Godard the morning of the Golden Whisk competition.
Sylvie fished out the napkin from the diner. She was no expert, but the handwriting seemed to match.
Her eyes roamed farther down. The wordConfidentialwas stamped in bold. Sylvie continued reading.
Dear Mr. Fernsby,
Thank you for the update regarding the Apple of Discord. I have seen it in person and have a plan. I’m dealing with Sylvie Jones, and her mother. Once Sylvie fails to get her Blade, she’ll be permanently out of the way. Then, I’ll destroy the tree, and no one will ever know. With that in mind, please burn this letter once you’ve read it.
Sylvie’s eyes settled on the signature at the bottom.
In good taste,
Jack Bass, Your Newly Anointed CCS President
(Certified Pitmaster, Big Bend Cook-Off Champion, Grand Bailli, Founder of The Society for Culinary Preservation and Purity)
Sylvie’s heart stopped pounding and turned to stone.This is all because of me … and it goes to the very top.Suddenly everything made sense. Her mom being forced to win All-Stars if she wanted to keep cooking up magic, Sylvie having to finish first in her prep class …They’re not opportunities for redemption. They’re traps.Anger and fear welled up in equal measures. Sylvie’s stomach curdled.Bass is messing with my family … my life!
Sylvie clutched the letter tightly.There has to be a way to stop him.And Sylvie couldn’t help but wonder,Is that what August plans to do?More questions rolled through her mind.How did he get this letter? Where is he now?There was no way Bass could risk this getting out. Anyone who knew the truth was in danger … including Sylvie.
Bubble & Squeak
SYLVIE WOKE TO THE SOUND OF SOMEONE RAPPING A FISTagainst the door. She jumped up.
“I’ll get it,” said Georgia, who was already dressed.
The piece of paper was still squeezed tightly in Sylvie’s hand. She refolded it and tucked it into her backpack for safekeeping.
“Good morning, Flora.” Georgia opened the door wide. “Are you escorting the Pips to breakfast this morning?”
“No. Actually, I’m here to get Sylvie.” She hesitated. “It’s Madame Godard… . She wants to see you in her office.”
“Me? Really?” Sylvie ran a hand through her tousled hair, avoiding eye contact as she put on her shoes. She couldn’t stop picturing Flora hunched over the desk in the dark classroom.What was she doing?Sylvie tried to force the image from her mind. Maybe it was silly, but she was afraid Flora would somehow see through her and realize,she knows.
“Sounds like someone got the headmistress’s attention,” said Georgia, checking her reflection in the mirror. “Well, I’m off to breakfast. Good luck!”
Sylvie wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or sincere. Although, she supposed it didn’t really matter.Either way, I’m in trouble.
