Sandra's dish

Outside the bustling kitchen, Sandra stood silently, listening to Holman’s booming words.

Each line of his anger made her realize how grave the situation was inside.

She could feel the pressure weighing down on the Saint House chefs.

They’d been the pride of this place for years, celebrated and honored as culinary artists, yet tonight, the Big Boss was reducing their finest to dust.

A pang of sadness filled her as she listened to their desperate attempts to regain their family’s honor.

Sandra’s gaze drifted down to her hands, hands that can bring even the most hardened souls to tears with a single taste.

Her late husband and her son were the only people in the world who had tasted her food made with her “Gifted Hands.”

She could still picture the tears, the pride in his eyes whenever he ate her food.

The reason why her brother-in-laws killed her husband was simple.

He wanted to make Sandra the head of the Saint House.

Now, he was gone, and his family were on the brink of humil
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