#Chapter 160: The Truth Comes Out

Abby As soon as the door opens and Mr. Thompson’s figure appears in the doorway, my heart jumps into my throat. A palpable wave of embarrassment washes over me; I’m suddenly painfully aware of my disheveled appearance. My hair is pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray locks defiantly escaping, and my clothes are not the crisp, chef whites that once defined my professional persona but rather a loose sweater and jeans combo that screams “I’ve given up on the kitchen.” “Mr. Thompson, uh, hello,” I stammer, standing up from my chair so abruptly it screeches against the floor. “Hello, Abby,” Mr. Thompson says. I swallow. What is he doing here? “Please, come in.” I gesture towards the chair opposite my cluttered desk, hastily shoving papers into piles to create a semblance of order. He steps inside, his gaze sweeping the room—the piles of paperwork, the empty coffee cups, the trash can overflowing with discarded papers and junk mail—with an unreadable expression on hi