My parents told everyone I was a waitress, for nin…

Individual ramekins torched tableside by me with a kitchen torch I carried in my bag.

Everyone raved. Where did you get these? Mom asked, inspecting hers like it might be poisoned with ambition.

I made them. A pause. The briefest flicker of something on her face.

Surprise, maybe? or the faintest recognition that the daughter she called pathetic could continue reading …