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Her eyes narrowed. “Most?”

Four wings, part of the rice, one egg roll, the half dumpling, and enough noodles to make me queasy remained on the platter.

“Eat the dumpling,” I said.

“You eat the egg roll.”

“Deal.”

She picked up the dumpling with open resentment.

The timer crossed twenty minutes.

The crowd had become invested. Lucy was at the register, one of the challenge shirts over her arm. The child beside us had started chanting, “Great Wall! Great Wall!”

Sloane finished the dumpling and immediately leaned back. “I contributed.”

“You did.”

She sighed loudly. “I’m done.”

“Drink water.”

I finished the egg roll, then moved through the final wings. The last portion of rice took longer than expected. I could feel every earlier plate joining the discussion currently happening inside my stomach. Some of the food wanted to stay, while others rejected the new location and immediately wanted to evacuate.

Sloane noticed. “You okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look great.”

“I’m just pacing myself.”

Sloane glanced at the timer. “You have four minutes left.”

“I know.”

“Should I distract the manager?”

“How?”

“I’ll claim the fountain is leaking. Three minutes.”

I finished the rice. Only the noodles remained.

Sloane picked up her fork again. “I can take two bites.”

“You said you were done.”

“I’ve recovered. Partially.”

We split the noodles.

At twenty-eight minutes and twelve seconds, the platter was empty.

For one second, neither of us moved. Then the manager stopped the timer and raised both arms.

The restaurant erupted.