Chapter 48
That chef brandishing a knife behind you is totally suspicious. You don’t know exactly why he wants to hurt you, but it’s very clear what his intentions are. And you’re not going to let him get away with it.
You whirl around, holding the metal tray over your head. When Jacques sees what you’re doing, his eyes widen in surprise, and he doesn’t have time to react before you bring the tray crashing down on his scalp. He falls to the floor, unconscious. The butcher knife clatters from his hand.
“Hey!” Mr. Wentworth cries. “What do you think you’re doing?”
To your horror, it looks like he is fumbling for a knife of his own on the kitchen counter. You don’t have time to waste—you’ve got to get out of here. No job is worth getting your throat slashed by a bunch of psychopaths. God knows what they were thinking.
You hurry out of the kitchen, but you must cut through the dining room in order to get out.
Avery has already set the table, and despite everything, you have to admit that the effect is magical.
The fine china and silverware gleam under the light of the chandelier.
It looks like it will be a lovely dinner—too bad you won’t be around to see it.
Just as you’re trying to figure out the best way out of here, you notice that a brand new picture has been hung on the wall of the dining room.
There’s no time to admire the artwork, but somehow your eyes are drawn to this photo of whatever will be served for their meal tonight.
You lock in on the image, moving closer to get a better look.
It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend the subject of this new photograph.
It’s you.
Turn to Chapter 49 (page 118)