(Yvette POV)
The kitchen felt different the moment I stepped in.
Not louder. Not quieter.
It was sharper.
Outside evaluators were present today—two visiting chefs from a Michelin-listed restaurant group and one faculty assessor I didn't recognize. Their presence shifted the air, turning familiar stainless steel into mirrors that reflected every mistake twice as harshly.
I tightened my apron and centered myself.
Focus. I told myself.
The brief was precise: a classical base dish with a modern reinterpretation. No theatrics. No shortcuts. Execution mattered more than creativity today.
As we took our stations, I scanned my setup out of habit.
Knife. Board. Proteins sealed. Vegetables fresh. Aromatics—
I stopped.
My prep sheet wasn't mine.
The handwriting was similar, but the measurements were wrong. Subtly wrong. Temperatures adjusted just enough to compromise texture. A garnish listed that didn't match the available produce.
My pulse ticked up.
I looked to the side.
