Karl
The second round had left a bitter taste in my mouth. Seeing the way that the judge, Logan, tore into Abby on live television left me feeling maybe a little too overprotective, but I couldn’t just stand idly by while Abby had her integrity ripped apart on stage.
I told Abby I needed to take a call, but it was a complete lie. I needed to talk to this Logan, understand why he was being so harsh on Abby compared to the other contestants. And most of all, I needed to make him see the truth: that Abby was an excellent chef, undeserving of this treatment, and that her spices had been sabotaged.
The security guard outside the judges’ private room was a mountain of a man, his face impassive as I approached.
“Hello,” I said, adjusting my blue surgical mask slightly. “I’d like
