I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I didn't think this was a planned attack from my staff. Martha wouldn't let that happen, and the others were too scared of me to even try. But if it wasn't an actual cooking mistake, then what was it? Cross-contamination? An accidental mix-up from some random cleaning product? Where the hell did it come from?
"I DON'T CARE. DAMNIT, MARTHA! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE IT WAS SAFE FOR HER," I yelled, my voice raw and hoarse. "I care that your one, basic job—the easiest job—was keeping her safe from nuts, and you blew it! Somebody in this room is either lying or completely incompetent! Find the source! Now! Check every single thing that touched that plate! The cleaner, the rag, and the air find the damn trace! If you can't prove she'
