He’s standing now, his hands pressed together like he’s praying, and when our eyes meet, he grins so wide I can see it from across the auditorium.
I did it. I actually did it.
And River was here for all of it.
The judges deliberate for what feels like hours but is probably only five minutes. The audience murmurs, speculation running through the crowd. Kiki keeps sending me smiles and waves, and Tobias nods at me.
Finally, the judges return to their table.
“We want to congratulate all twelve of our finalists,” Chef Dubois begins. “The level of talent we saw today was extraordinary. Each of you showed creativity, technical skill, and the ability to adapt under pressure.”
She pauses, and the auditorium goes silent.
“However, there can only be one winner of the Future Chef Challenge scholarship. We chose the person who demonstrated not only technical excellence but also creativity, composure, and a deep understanding of flavor.”
My heart is pounding so hard I’m surprised everyone can’t hear it.
“The winner is...” Chef Dubois smiles. “Kiera Emmerson.”
The world stops.
Did she just say my name?
The auditorium erupts in applause. Kiki and Tobias come up to me. Kiki cries and hugs me. Tobias claps me on the back. Cameras are flashing. Someone is handing me a certificate and a giant ceremonial check.
But all I can see is River.
He’s standing in the front row, clapping, a giant grin on his face, looking at me like I’m the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.
I won.
And River is here to see it.
KieraEmmerson
The flash of the camera blinds me for the third time, and I force my smile to stay in place even though my face feels like it might crack. I won. I actually won. The scholarship is mine, culinary school is happening, and I should be over the moon.
Instead, all I can think about is River.
“Miss Emmerson, can you tell us how you felt when they announced your name?” The reporter from the island’s newspaper shoves a recorder toward my face, and I blink at her, trying to remember what she just asked.
“I—um—I was surprised,” I manage. “Really surprised.”
Kiki squeezes my shoulder from where she’s standing just off to the side, her expression encouraging. Tobias stands besideKiki, clutching the bouquet of flowers they presented me with during the awards ceremony.
“And what was the most challenging part of today’s competition?” the reporter continues.
River showing up.
“My oven breaking!” Everyone around me laughs. “But I tried to stay focused, and I got through it.”
Another flash. Another smile. I scan the crowd behind the reporter, looking for him. He was here. I know he was here. I saw him past the cameras, saw him watching me with that expression that makes my heart forget how to beat properly.
But now? Now I can’t find him anywhere.
The interview drags on. More questions about my dish, about my inspiration, about my plans for culinary school. I answer them all, but I couldn’t repeat a single word I’ve said. My chest feels tight, my throat constricted. I need to find him. I need to tell him I was wrong, that I made a terrible mistake, that I?—
“That’s all we need. Congratulations again, Miss Emmerson.” The reporter finally steps back, and I nearly sag with relief.
