“But if you do this, there will be no foreclosing. They’ll pay you a signing amount, and the prize for winning is a hundred grand. Think about the exposure Curried Dreams will get!” China swept an arm around the room. “You’ll be able to make repairs, freshen things up.”

It stands for decrepitude and dated recipes.

Another spurt of laughter burst out of Ashna. She pressed her lips together as tightly as she could.

Trisha nudged the glass of water toward her. “Calm down and think about this without freaking out.”

Too late. Ashna forced herself to focus on the cold glass in her hand, at the mosaic lamps hanging from the ceiling, the jasmine diffuser scenting the air. She grounded herself one sight, one sound, one smell at a time. The laughter died out, but her heart still galloped in her chest.

“Okay?” Trisha asked, studying Ashna’s pupils in her doctorly way.

Ashna pushed her away. “I’m fine, but you’re both insane.”

“Why is helping your two best friends in the whole world, and yourself, insane? Why?” Trisha said, her usual relentless self. “You know what’s insane?”

“If you give me the ‘definition of insanity’ line right now, I will strangle you with my bare hands,” Ashna snapped.

“Okay, I won’t. But look at you, Ashi, you’ve been doing the same things for the past ten years and it hasn’t helped. Sometimes it’s just a matter of changing something. Doing just one thing differently.”

Ashna didn’t bother to hold back her groan. “I can’t.”

The idea of cooking in front of a camera made Ashna want to bring up her dinner, bring up all the dinners she’d ever eaten. She wished she could explain why to them. But how could she explain something she didn’t understand? How could she explain the ugly panic that choked her when she tried to cook anything but Baba’s recipes? All she had was how her loved ones saw her, as strong, in control. A little bullheaded, but capable. Easy Ashna. Dependable Ashna. If that went away, all she’d be was the girl to pity, to tiptoe around.

Been there. Never going back.

“I’m begging,” China said, standing up. “At least take the night to think about it.”

I can’t. But she didn’t know how to repeat it. Not with the dogged hope sparkling on their faces.

Chapter Two

As always, routine relaxed Ashna. Her day started at the farmer’s market. The night sky had not yet fully transformed into day. She loved when the sun peeked at the edges of the sky while the moon was still not quite hidden away. The carts overflowing with plump and fragrant fruit and vegetables added to the magic of the hour. Vendors and chefs talked in hushed tones in deference to it.