Chapter 3

The fifth complaint we received claimed that my meals were not healthy. Someone posted the complaint on a local forum, claiming that they had suffered from food poisoning after consuming my food and suspected I had used leftover food.

Below the post was a blurry picture of their medical report. It did not have a name or hospital logo, only half of the word 'emergency'.

When the authorities from the Health Department arrived, a crowd had already formed in the alleyway to witness the drama. An officer asked, "Has anyone given you feedback about feeling unwell after consuming your food?"

"Nope."

"What about the hospital?"

"Nothing from them either."

I did not prolong the conversation. I turned off the gas and said, "I'll ask around right now."

After that, I spent the entire afternoon asking everyone in the Inpatient Department. I started from the first floor and asked everyone who bought meals from me until I reached the eighth floor. I even checked with the nurses on duty, but no one had issues with my food.

I even confirmed this with the Medical Records Department, inquiring if anyone had suffered from food poisoning in the past week, but they could not even find any records of the medical report posted online.

After the Health Department was done with the investigation, the officers said, "The complaint was fake."

I held the investigation report while standing in the stairwell. I stayed there for a long time, and when Laney found me, she was still holding a packet of meat in her hand. "Didn't you say you wanted to make cottage pie today?"

When she saw the investigation report I was holding, she understood what happened. "We'll add an extra dish today."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not."

Laney pushed the packet of meat in my arms. "If they claim we aren't healthy, let's just do things with a higher standard."

The next day, we had an extra dish for our food truck, which was tomato and beef stew. Our price remained at $2.

When Laney went through the accounts, she turned pale. "We'll be making a loss of at least $3 with every meal we sell."

"Let's just cook what we prepared first."

When we started selling to the lunch crowd, an elderly lady with a head full of gray hair came over to us slowly. She was still wearing a chemotherapy wristband around her wrist, and she would gasp for air every few steps she took.

I quickly helped her to a seat. "What would you like, madam?"

"Please give me a piece of bread and a bowl of stew."

"That isn't enough for you."

"I can't take that much food."

In the end, I gave her four pieces of bread and a huge bowl of stew.

After taking her first mouthful of stew, she suddenly started tearing up. "I haven't had a hot meal for days, young man. Your hot stew saved me today."

I felt my throat tighten, while Laney turned away, pretending to wipe down the soup container. Larry took a picture and posted it on his social media. It was not long before someone shared the picture and posted negative comments.

[Adding meat to the meals after getting criticized? He must be feeling guilty.]

[Getting tomato and beef stew for $2? Who would believe that? He must be showing off.]

That night, Larry said, "The owner of that fast food place at the corner shared in a group chat that you were using frozen meat scraps, and is asking others to lodge a report against you."

The authorities arrived very quickly during the sixth investigation of our food truck. This time, there were more details in the complaint.

"Someone lodged a report claiming that your ingredients aren't fresh, and you've been using meat that has been frozen for a long period of time. You're suspected of using cheap meat scraps to make your meals."

Before they arrived, I had already placed all purchase records of the beef, chicken, and pork on the food truck counter, including the quality certification of the meat and my suppliers. "Please feel free to start your investigation."

The authorities looked at me. "Mr. Curtis, you don't need to get so emotional over this."

"I'm not emotional." I pointed at all the documents spread out. "Please check every one of these receipts and certifications."

They spent two hours going through all the documents and told me the same thing after they were done. "There aren't any problems with your food truck."

When I walked them out of the alleyway, I saw the fast food restaurant owner smoking outside the door. He avoided my gaze, but I did not confront him.

After leaving the office of the investigators, I started looking for the account of the influencer who took my picture before. My fingers hung above the screen for three seconds before I decided to put my phone away.

I put all my receipts together back into an envelope, which looked old and used. I wanted to say something, but decided to swallow my words in the end.

That night, Laney and I did not cook. We shared a plate of leftover vegetables, and Laney pushed the accounting book to me. "We made a loss of $18,000 this month."

"I know."

"Brody."

"Yes?"

"Do you still want to continue operating this food truck?"

This time, she did not sigh and walk out of the room. Instead, she just stared quietly at me, and for the first time, I did not answer her right away.