Betrayed Heart, Culinary Rise

he kitchen. The remnants of Brittany's party were still scat

rained patience. "We need to talk about your attitude. Brittany was ve

y too," I s

t means supporting your sister, not making everything a competition. You will apologize to Brittany." They were trying to force a reconcil

box. "Oh, this must be for you," she said, handing it to my moth

circled in a catalog weeks ago. "Oh, Chloe, look," my mother said, her eyes lighting up.

It was a symbolic rejection, so casual and complete, that I almost

was smooth from years of use, the steel still sharp. I held it in my hands, the cool weight of it a small comfort. It was all

ome make up," she said, not sounding sorry at all. She glanced

er's," I said,

ulinary championship preliminaries, I'll let you be my official assistant. You can even put it on your resu

my head. "N

g else you can do." Her eyes flickered back to the knife in my hands. "That knife. It

s speechless. She wanted to take the last piece of my

fish, Chloe,"

flat. "It's just a knife. Don't make this a bigger deal than it is." He was siding with

said, my grip tightening on t

ard and snatched the knife from my hands. I cried out, scrambling after

the open window and held the knife outside. "If you can't

e let

riveway below. The sound of the impact was a gunshot in the quiet afternoon. A part of me shattered with it. Sh

or traffic as I ran into the street toward the driveway. I saw the knife lying there, the wooden handle split, the blade bent at an unnatural angle. As I bent to pick it up, a screech of tires filled