The Scam: My Best Friend's Evil Script

Laurel pointed at the trash can and added, "Even if you ruined the whipping cream, you can still make a strawberry cake.

"It doesn't matter if we don't have cake molds; you can figure something out, right? Didn't you always use to say that a truly great pastry chef doesn't blame their tools?

"Anyway, I'm not letting you leave if you don't bake something today."

Her words sent an icy chill down my spine.

Something was deeply wrong with Laurel.

I could even feel a cold sweat breaking out across my palms as she locked her dark, intense stare on me, as if making sure I wouldn't bolt for the door the next second.

It was uncanny, almost as if she knew something terrible was bound to happen today.

After all, given her usual temperament, she would have long pouted and thrown a massive tantrum if I refused to cater to her whim in the slightest.

But today, she wasn't just patient, but she also refused to let me leave. She wasn't throwing a spoiled, playful fit.

In fact, she was just trying to keep me trapped here.

Everything in my past life had happened too fast.

The moment I finished making Laurel's mousse glacee, I barely had time to catch my breath before I was brutally murdered. That was why I had overlooked so many details.

When Laurel saw that I remained silent, she assumed I had given in, and the corners of her lips curved slightly.

"That's more like it," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice and reached out to pull my arm. "Cassie, stop being mad at me, okay? I know you have a soft heart, and there's no way you'd actually abandon a cutiepie like me for real."

But when I avoided her and left her hand hanging in midair, a flicker of displeasure crossed her face.

"Now that's enough. Go to the kitchen and bake the cake already. I'm absolutely craving your baking."

She half-dragged and half-shoved me into the kitchen before rummaging through the cabinets for baking supplies and turning around to walk out. As I stared at her from behind, I couldn't help but find her increasingly unnerving.

Even if Laurel had brainwashed herself into this infantile mindset where she couldn't understand the gravity of her actions, it made no sense for her to drag me all the way back from abroad just to make her a dessert.

This felt more like a trap orchestrated for me instead. But why would she do that?

Laurel and I had known each other for at least ten years. My parents treated her like their own daughter, and in all these years, I had never once mistreated her.

When Laurel noticed the silence in the kitchen, she immediately marched back in and locked her eerie gaze on me.

"Why haven't you started yet, Cassie? Are you missing some ingredients?"

Suppressing my panic, I calmly shook my head and replied, "No. Everything's here."

She let out a sigh of relief, and a bright smile lit up her face again. "That's great! I was worried for a second."

As she spoke, she excitedly leaped forward to show off the ingredients. "See? I had everything prepared pretty well, right?"

My expression remained calm as I replied, "Yeah. You were very thorough and got everything you needed."

A smug smile appeared on her face, but I turned around and stared into her eyes, smiling, though it never reached my eyes.

"In fact, you're so thorough it looks like it was planned out in advance."

Laurel's body visibly stiffened before she burst out laughing again. "Why are you being so weird today, Cassie? Ten cartons of strawberries are a lot. We'd get sick of them if we only made mousse glacee, so I bought ingredients for cake, too.

"Besides, you're a world-famous pastry chef. You flew all the way back just for me, so of course I would want you to make a little extra. It'd be fun showing off to my friends."

I smiled and continued whisking the eggs as I asked, "Laurel, have my family ever treated you badly over the years?"

No matter why Laurel was going to such lengths to get me killed, remembering everything we had been through together should be enough to make her call off her malicious thoughts—if she had a single shred of conscience left.

But Laurel didn't even blink. She unbotheredly leaned her head against my shoulder and softly whined, "Of course not.

"Cassie, you and your parents treat me incredibly well, and that's why you're my favorite people. So don't let this little thing come between us, okay?"