She rolled back and forth in her bed, replaying the moments before she dropped the jar over and over again. Maybe there will come a day when I make no more mistakes, Rose thought on waking the next morning. Purdy had once told her that everyone made mistakes, and Rose believed it; but since she really only witnessed her own, it seemed to Rose as if she was a lot clumsier than everyone else. Rose rifled through the mason jars in Balthazar’s suitcase: traditional ingredients like flour and sugar snugged beside blue mason jars filled with the unspoiled rainfall from the other evening and the handkerchief with Marie Antoinette’s blush, plus the newly added murderer’s growl and banshee’s howl. But no rolling chime. What would they do if the category was ROLLED? “In a moment,” Jean-Pierre proclaimed, “I will announce today’s theme. Today’s bake-off will determine the final two chefs, who will compete tomorrow in the Wild Card category.” All the kitchens were empty and covered by a dusting of flour except for the three with the final contestants: Rose, Lily, and Wei Wen.
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