Abby
Karl and I burst into the restaurant, a gust of fresh air sweeping in with us as the door swings shut
behind.
Our clothes are still wet, covered in mud, and clinging uncomfortably to our skin, but the euphoria
coursing
through my veins easily overcomes any discomfort that I might be feeling. The kitchen, already in full
swing for the day, is a cacophony of noise.
John looks up from behind the line, his knife poised mid-air over a bunch of fresh herbs. His brows knit
together as he takes in our disheveled state.
“Where the hell have you both been?”
Without uttering a word, I slide my satchel off my shoulder and set it onto the counter with a triumphant
grin. My heart pounds in my chest as I untie the flap, feeling a surge of triumph course through my
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Turning the bag upside-down, I silently let the truffles tumble out in a glorious cascade.
John’s eyes go wide, giving him a comical look. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this shocked, except for
the one time that one of the waitresses dropped his prized braised lamb all over the floor before the
plate
even made it out of the kitchen.
He rushes around the counter, hands trembling slightly as he picks one of the mushrooms up, bringing
it
closer to inspect it carefully. “Is this… a black truffle?”
Tears spring into my eyes as I nod. “Yes, John. Black truffles.”
He’s still holding the truffle, but now he’s also holding his breath and staring at us, clearly waiting for an
explanation.
“We, uh… had to go off the beaten path,” Karl starts, a tremor in his voice from the lingering adrenaline
of
our escape. I can tell he’s reliving it all, just like me. “Through poacher territory, believe it or not.”
“We found a waterfall, and behind it… a cave,” I continue, feeling a chill run up my spine as I recount
the
experience. I’ll probably be reliving it for a long time to come. “A cave full of these bad boys. Artificial
lights, the whole setup.”
John’s eyes grow wider with each passing second that I tell the fragments of our story.
“So you… stole from poachers?” he asks once we’ve finished.
I nod, maybe a little more excitedly than I mean to. “Look, I know it’s bad,” I begin, “but—”
“Bad?” John interrupts, his voice incredulous. “You guys could’ve been caught! Or worse!”
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Karl nods with a grave expression on his face. “And we almost were. They had guards. With guns. And
dogs. We had to run like our lives depended on it.”
“Because our lives did depend on it,” I add, the words heavy but true. “We ran up the ravine, through
the
woods, across clearings, through thickets. We were followed, we heard the dogs. I thought we were
gonna die, honestly. But we made it. We got to the car and drove away.”
Silence envelops the kitchen for a few moments as John absorbs the gravity of what we’ve just told
him.
Then, finally, he exhales. His voice is shaky.
“I can’t believe you two idiots did that. But I’m just glad you’re okay,” he says, setting the truffle down
like
it’s a rare artifact, and I guess it sort of is.
“I… I couldn’t have done it without Karl,” I find myself murmuring.
Karl stares at me for a moment in shock, but then, a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He
doesn’t
need to utter the words, because I already know what he’s saying.
We did it. Together.