#Chapter 104: Pickpocket

Abby The morning sun is barely peeking over the horizon, casting a soft glow on the deserted streets as I race toward the restaurant. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t sleep, and am currently running off of several cups of coffee. My mind races, replaying last night's accidental revelation like a broken record. I need to find Karl. Now. And even though it’s early, something tells me that he’s already in the kitchen. I burst into the restaurant, my eyes scanning the empty tables, the bar, and finally landing on the kitchen door, where a dim light is shining through the small window. Pushing it open, I find Karl, knife in hand, chopping vegetables with a newfound kind of precision brought about by his apprenticeship under John. “Karl, we need to talk. Now.” He looks up, his eyes meeting mine, widening for a moment before narrowing with concern. “Abby, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “I wish it was that simple,” I mutter, brushing a st