Chapter 3
Through sobs, I struggled towards the Dessert Station. But… without hands, even picking up an egg was impossible. An egg rolled off my sleeve, and laughter erupted from the crowd.
“Is she pretending to be disabled on purpose?”
“Is this the heir of the Pastry Family? She’s no match for Sophia!”
Sophia Thompson, full of pride, had already started making cream amidst the cheers. A strong wave of bitterness rose in my heart, and tears streamed down my face.
The first fragrant dessert was soon out of the oven. It was a Lemon Cake, made using the secret recipe she stole from my Grandpa. In stark contrast, my creation looked like a mess. Without hands to precisely adjust the oven temperature, my dessert didn’t hold its shape.
The audience burst into laughter, and the Judges didn’t even want to look at my work, asking sarcastically, “Was that on purpose or an accident?”
Sophia chimed in mockingly, “Judge, I know Mia, she’s far more skilled than this. She’s clearly doing it for show.”
I was too ashamed to speak. The next moment, Sophia pretended to accidentally knock over my work and pushed me to the ground.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry, Mia. Don’t be mad at me.”
As she spoke, she pretended to bend down to help me up, but leaned close to my ear.
“You didn’t know, did you? I actually caused your Grandpa’s death. That old man protected the recipe till his last breath, but I smothered him with a pillow…”
“That old man protected your family’s recipe even in death, but I burned it all to ashes!”
Hearing this, it felt like my blood froze. I wanted to grab her and question her, but I had no hands.
“You murderer!”
I shouted in anger, trying to get up, but Oliver Thompson rushed over and slapped me.
“What do you think you’re doing? Sophia was kind to you, and you made something that looks like crap and fed it to others! No wonder the Johnson family’s reputation was bought with money!”
He looked furious, completely forgetting that when he was an orphan, it was my Grandpa who paid for his education.
Tears fell like broken beads as I collapsed in front of the Cameras, asking Sophia, “Why did you kill my Grandpa?”
Oliver’s face turned ugly. “What nonsense are you spouting in front of so many people? Sophia didn’t kill your Grandpa. He died of old age!”
Sophia cried pitifully, “I know you can’t stand to see me doing well, but you can’t slander me!”
“But you admitted it yourself! When I was imprisoned, you came and cut off my hands. I want to call the police!”
“Shut up!” Oliver was furious. “Don’t let me hear you slander Sophia again. You live in luxury at my place and pamper your hands every day, and today you’re just acting up to get my attention!”
Then, Oliver turned to face the hundreds of cameras, addressing countless viewers.
“Don’t believe her lies. She’s always cared about her reputation. How could she not have hands?”
“And to think I wanted to help her run the Pastry Shop after all this. She’s really let me down.”
Oliver looked at me with disappointment, as if I were a terrible person.
The audience’s emotions were stirred, and they rushed over to beat me up. I weakly raised my arms to shield myself, but I couldn’t withstand their madness.
“Stop hitting me! I didn’t do it on purpose. My hands were cut off. If you don’t believe me, look…”
But no one listened to me. Oliver stepped forward and kicked my arm.
“Still pretending? You can’t even lie properly.”
In the chaos, Sophia accidentally poured a pot of hot butter on me. With a sizzle, I felt my skin blistering and screamed in agony.
Everyone gasped and backed away, afraid of getting splashed. It seemed like a glimmer of hope for me. Ignoring the pain, I tried to crawl away.
But in the next second, Oliver had the Bodyguards grab my clothes. They pulled so hard they tore my shirt off.
I was desperate, as if my last shred of dignity was stripped away, and I screamed for mercy.
“Please, let me go! Don’t look at my hands…”
But when Oliver saw my arms, he was stunned. Just one look, and his eyes widened in shock, his voice trembling.
“Mia, where… where are your hands…”