Sylvie’s mind turned numb. She didn’t want to listen … to believe.
Georgia started nervously gnawing on a nail.
Josephine pulled out her Blade. The knife glinted as she pulled a thin layer of film off the handle. The smudged fingerprints, interwoven into the onyx handle, sloughed off.
Sylvie let out a gasp. Two initials were now visible, etched in silver into the dark scales of the handle.JF.
“That’s the nice thing about being the kitchen help. No one bothers to pay you much attention.” Josephine reached out.
For a second, Sylvie thought Josephine was going to gut her like a fish.
Swoosh!
The knife pierced the tip of Sylvie’s finger, spilling crimson drops. Sylvie watched in horror as her blood turned into a wisp of black smoke. “Now, thanks to you, the protection spells Godard put up are gone.”
The dusty scent of her perfume wafted toward Sylvie. She could smell the dried roses. But now, they reminded her of something dead and shriveled.
What had her mom said before they parted ways in the garden?As long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine too.“There was a link between Godard’s protection spells here and the Golden Whisk… . Wasn’t there?”
Josephine nodded. “Studentspastand present were shielded by them.”
A new reality wrapped itself around Sylvie like a blanket of thorns. Godard’s work. Her mom’s sacrifices. All the risks Sylvie had taken to try and stop Bass … with one recipe she’d torn it all down.Thanks to me, Bass is getting exactly what he wants.
“You know, culinary competitions aren’t just about skill,” said Josephine. “You must be able to improvise and easily navigate obstacles. I may have failed back then, but this time I will succeed.”
Sylvie suddenly found herself full of regret. There were so many things she wanted to take back, do differently, but she couldn’t.
Boom! Rhump!
The oven gave a violent rattle.
“What was that?” cried Georgia.
Sylvie had a terrible feeling she knew.Rumbledethumps.
“That’s the signal that it’s time for me to leave,” said Josephine. “You see, I’m going back to the Golden Whisk to prepare my greatest recipe yet,Vindicti-au-vent! It’s time the judges, and Sylvie’s mom, pay for what they did to me. As for you …” Her tongue made an audibletsk-tsk.“Breaking down Godard’s spells, helping Josephine Flammé… . Now it’ll be easy for Bass to get rid of you.”
Sylvie’s insides turned wobbly. “A friend and enemy so close,” she muttered. “That’s what Kitty said when she read the transparent pie. At the time, I thought she was talking about Georgia, but that wasn’t it. The pie was trying to warn me about you.”
Boom! Rhump!
The oven door flew open. A gust of hot air shot out.
Josephine spun around and bounded toward it.
Sylvie dashed after her. “Stop!”
“Sorry, Sylvie. Sometimes we must make sacrifices to get what we want.” With that, Josephine leaped into the oven. The door slammed shut.
“What’s she doing?” cried Georgia.
Sylvie grabbed the handle and yanked it open, but it was too late. The casserole. Josephine.Gone.
“W-where’d she go?” asked Georgia.
“Paris,” said Sylvie, slumping to the floor.
“How do you travel there by oven?” Georgia peered inside, as if she were searching for a runway.
