Taste of Vindication

Stella

As I chop, stir, melt, and saute, the others stand around me, watching intently. The pasta simmers on the stove, the air smelling like warm butter and spices.

It’s enough to make anyone’s mouth water. But my focus isn’t on the rumbling in my belly, nor is it even on the lingering pain in my ankle.

My focus is on the black truffles in front of me.

“Chop them nice and small,” Gustav instructs