The head chef at Bright Horizons daycare shoves two buckets of sweet soup into my arms and begs me to sign the state food sample log. His wife just fell. He has to leave. In three weeks, he's the only coworker who learned my name. Then blue words appear in my vision: Do not sign it. He mistook industrial sodium nitrite for sugar. Two children are already vomiting foam in the east bathroom. If I sign and serve, I become the only name on a felony poisoning case. I run to check. The children are sick. The chef stops shaking. He tells me to get out of his kitchen if I won't sign. Now I'm the new hire standing between a poisoning, a lying man, and a log that could destroy us both. I have minutes to expose the truth before he finds someone else to take the fall.