#Chapter 153: Remarkable

Abby As Karl speaks, my fingers worry the hem of my white chef’s coat, now no longer pristine but splattered with sauce and tiny stains and the remains of haphazardly cooked meals. It feels like a perfect representation of my inner world right now: once untarnished and lily-white, but now stained and weathered from the trials I’ve been through today. We’re still standing in the supply closet, and the air feels thick. Karl is standing over me still, his hand pressed into the door next to my head, sandwiching me there with his body. My wolf stirs ever so slightly, but now is not the time; I just found out that Karl tried to talk to the judges for me, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. “Abby…” he begins, his voice trailing off for a moment as his eyes search mine. Finally, he pushes away from the door and crosses the small room, running his hand through his hair for what feels like the millionth time in the past few minutes. “Just tell me, Karl,” I murmur, blinking away