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Mitzi hesitates, then lowers her voice until I can barely hear her. "I don't think so. Too many people have been asking who catered today." She looks up with a small smile. "Your food is too good for people not to notice, Toto."

I nod, my smile frozen in place. "Right. Um, thank you."

Mitzi watches me as if she's worried I'm about to have a meltdown. She’s not wrong. A meltdown is absolutely happening in my very near future, but I'll do it with dignity—at home, in my jammies, armed with a tub of ice cream.

"Let me grab the last bag and get out of your way," I say brightly.

Mitzi nods, relief written all over her face.

I follow her to the larger kitchen, gather my remaining things, and race to my van.

The second I’m safely inside, I slump over the steering wheel.

Someone has been sabotaging my business.

All year, I’ve watched my bookings dwindle until I was desperate enough to cater Frank Ozella's fundraiser last night. I abhor the man, but it was the first decent job I'd had in months, and I couldn't afford to turn it down.

Most of my staff has left to find other jobs, and rightfully so. They have bills to pay, and I can barely afford to pay myself. I even had to rope Dottie into helping with the Ozella event, something she knows I'd never have done if I wasn't desperate.

Then Griselda Westing announced—in front of everyone—that she’d make sure they found a better caterer for all future events.

And this morning, the only other booking on my calendar cancelled. I figured the Darling family had missed the memo, not realizing that Mitzi was pulling strings for me behind the scenes. No wonder she was terrified. If Griselda finds out Mitzi helped me and turns the Darlings against her, she could lose her job.

I shake my head.

Griselda Westing.

It's unbelievable to think that she would go out of her way to tank my tiny business all these years later. What could she possibly gain from it?

I glare out the windshield. I need a hot shower and a good cry.

When I start the van, a soft feminine voice lilts from my speakers.

"...rezoning the Ogre Swamp and surrounding territories. Should the citizens living there be concerned if you become mayor?"

I inch through the Darling compound's front gates and pull onto the main road as Frank Ozella's obnoxious voice responds to the question.

"Thank you for asking such an important—"

I switch to a station playing angsty music that matches my mood because I refuse to listen to that man spew lies. The mayoral debate is tonight, and I'm worried sick that Ozella has half the Quadling voters believing he's making decisions with their best interests at heart. That man only watches out for himself.

And I still haven't been paid for his fundraiser last night, so he's definitely not getting my vote.

My navigation system finally syncs to my phone, and the mechanical voice informs me: "You have ten missed calls from Dottie Gale. You have seven text messages from Dottie Gale. You have one voicemail from Dottie Gale."

"Ten missed calls?" I take a right, hoping it leads me out of the downtown area. I bite my lip, anxious to make sure everything is okay with Dottie, but I need to get to the yellow brick road before I mess with my phone. I'm not the best driver, especially in the city.

Fifteen minutes and five wrong turns later, I finally make it to the main road when a loud beep interrupts my music.

"SPECIAL ALERT: Griselda Westing is wanted for crimes against the land of Oz. She is considered dangerous. Do not approach. If spotted, call the authorities immediately."

I almost drive off the road as I stare at the radio. Flipping back to the news station, I try to suppress the queasy sensation in my stomach.

"The mayoral debate currently underway between incumbent mayor Jareth Merlin and challenger Frank Ozella erupted into controversy when Ozella appeared to admit his involvement in last month’s arson attack on Gardner's Factory in the Quadling District."

I gasp as Frank Ozella's voice rings out, loud and clear.

"She said we needed to garner the votes of the Quadlings, and constructing an opportunity for me to console victims was essential."