Chapter 2

"It's a rare, hyper-intuitive palate," Brittany announced a week later. She stood before the CIAP board and a crowd of local food critics. Dean Antoine beamed beside her. "It seems to have awakened."

She described how flavors now spoke to her, how combinations appeared in her mind fully formed.

Dean Antoine nodded enthusiastically. "CIAP is proud to nurture such a unique talent. We are providing Miss Hayes with all necessary resources."

More funding, private tutoring, access to the rarest ingredients. Things Sarah once had.

The high-stakes public culinary demonstration was that afternoon. Sarah was to prepare her signature dish: a delicate sea bass with a complex citrus reduction. Brittany was making a deconstructed bouillabaisse.

Sarah felt a strange fog in her mind as she started. Her hands, usually so sure, fumbled with the fish. The reduction sauce, one she' d made hundreds of times, refused to come together. It was too bitter, then too thin.

Panic rose. She glanced at Brittany. Brittany was a whirlwind of confident motion, her station immaculate, her dish progressing flawlessly. A small, almost invisible device was clipped to Brittany's belt, under her apron, a tiny green light blinking faintly. Sarah had never noticed it before.

Sarah' s sea bass was a disaster. Overcooked. The sauce, a mess. She presented it with a sinking heart.

The critics tasted it. Their faces were polite masks.

Then they tasted Brittany' s bouillabaisse. Gasps. Murmurs of delight.

Dean Antoine' s face hardened as he looked at Sarah. "What is this, Miss Miller?" he asked, his voice cold. "Your skills... they seem to have vanished. Were you ever truly talented, or was it some elaborate charade?"

The accusation hung in the air. Publicly.

"I... I don' t know what happened," Sarah stammered. Her cheeks burned.

"I do," Dean Antoine said, his voice rising. "You have deceived us. You have deceived me." He turned to the audience. "Sarah Miller is hereby expelled from the Culinary Institute of America Prime. We do not tolerate fraud."

Expelled. The word hit her like a physical blow.

Brittany watched, a flicker of triumph in her eyes, quickly masked by a look of concern. She even put a hand on Sarah's arm. "Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Her touch felt like ice.

The Culinary Echo, Brittany' s hidden device, had done its work. It copied Sarah's peak skills for Brittany, even nudging them slightly higher. And today, it had actively interfered, a subtle disruption to Sarah' s neural pathways, making her own talent seem like a lie. The continuous use of the Echo was also slowly draining Sarah, making her feel tired, unfocused. Brittany' s "awakened palate" was a stolen one.