Me, After You: Sekar
Our influencer, terrified of being judged, let out a breathless, glowing laugh at his words — no plating, no lighting, just the pot, the fork, and you — taped to a box of instant noodles in an ordinary plastic bag, the note scrawled in marker.
"LAST ONE!" Sary screamed.
Just me left. My envelope still gripped in my lap.
"Sekar." Grace's voice, soft. "Open it."
I tore the seal. A rose gold bracelet slid into my lap, a single tiny compass charm dangling from the chain. I lifted the card.