Chapter 4 · free to read
The banquet was over. The nightmare had a fresh menu.
In my old kitchen, a bad review cost me a star. Here it costs a pulse.
Bitter almond. Faint, buried under ginseng — but I'd know that smell in my sleep. He'd hidden it well. Not well enough.
Flour never lies. It shows you every hand that's touched the room.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.