Page 137 of Neap & Spring

We’re doing it.

This is working.

We are going to be fine.

“Halfway through,” Amara calls out. “Looking good, Chef.”

The kitchen is loud now. Multiple conversations happening at once. Pans clattering. Knives on cutting boards. The fan hood roaring. Becca and Morgan calling out table numbers as they come back for more plates, their voices overlapping.

“Behind!”

“Hot pan!”

“Sauce needs two more minutes!”

“Plating next six!”

Everyone’s locked in, the food is flying, and nothing can stop us now.

I glance at Vivienne. She’s still plating, but something has changed in her posture. Her shoulders are tighter. Her breathing has picked up. I can see her chest rising and falling faster than before.

“You okay?” I whisper.

“Fine,” she says, but her voice is strained.

“Last twelve,” I call out, keeping an eye on her. “Let’s bring it home.”

I sear the final duck breasts. The pan is screaming hot, the skin crisping perfectly. I can hear everything around me — Amara calling out times, Marcus plating sides, Becca shouting table numbers from the window, the constant hum of the hood, the sizzle of fat.

It’s loud.

It’s always loud during service. That’s normal. That’s how kitchens work. It’s the soundtrack of this job.

But Vivienne has stopped moving.

She’s standing at her station, a ladle in her hand, staring down at the sauce like she’s forgotten what to do with it.

“Vivi?” I set down my tongs. “You good?”

“Yeah, I —” She blinks and shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it. “What’s next?”

“Just the gastrique. Same as before.”

She nods, but she’s not moving. The ladle is shaking in her hand, trembling so hard the sauce is threatening to spill over the edge.

“Vivienne.”

“I’m fine. I just —”

Becca bursts through the door. “Chef, table seven needs their plates in three minutes, they have a —”

“BEHIND!” Amara shouts, moving past with a hot pan.

“WHERE’S THE DUCK?” Morgan calls from the pass. “Table twelve is asking!”

“Two minutes!” I shout back, my eyes never leaving Vivienne’s face.

The noise escalates even louder. Everyone talking at once. Pans clattering. The hood fan roaring. The dish pit running. Orders being called. Timers beeping.