The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance (Scarlett and Jasper) novel Chapter 21

Scarlett’s POV)

The morning starts wrong. I know it the moment I see Mrs. Chen standing outside my bakery at seven–thirty, holding a bag of my honey wheat bread like it’s contaminated waste.

“I want my money back,” she says the second I unlock the door. “This bread made my whole family sick.”

My stomach drops. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Food poisoning. All night long.” She shoves the bag at me. “My grandson couldn’t even keep water down.”

Before I can respond, Mr. Rodriguez appears behind her, waving a receipt. “Me too. That cinnamon roll from yesterday? Worst stomach bug I’ve had in years.”

Then Mrs. Patterson. Then the young mother who bought cupcakes for her daughter’s playdate. Then five more customers, all demanding refunds, all claiming my food made them violently ill.

“I don’t understand,” I stammer, staring at the growing crowd outside my shop. “Nobody got sick yesterday. Or the day before. I use the same recipes, the same suppliers-”

“Maybe you need better suppliers,” Mrs. Chen snaps. “Or better hygiene standards.”

My hands shake as I unlock the register, processing refund after refund while more angry customers gather outside. This can’t be happening. I’m careful about everything- temperatures, storage, expiration dates. I’ve never had a single complaint in six months of operation.

“There’s a post going around online,” the young mother says, showing me her phone. “About how this place is unsanitary.”

My blood turns to ice as I read the review. A detailed account of someone getting violently ill after eating my bread, complete with warnings about “dangerous conditions” and “health violations.” The post has been shared dozens of times already.

“I need to close early today,” I announce, my voice barely steady. “To investigate this properly.”

The crowd disperses, but not before several more customers cancel their weekend orders. I watch my regular customers walk away shaking their heads, and my heart shatters a little more with each departure..

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By nine o’clock, I’m alone in my empty bakery, staring at the social media post that’s destroying everything I’ve worked for. The account that posted it is clearly fake–no profile picture, created just yesterday. But the damage is spreading faster than I can track.

That’s when I see the official van pulling up outside.

Health Department.

Three people in suits climb out, carrying clipboards and wearing expressions that could freeze hell. The lead inspector, a stern woman with silver hair, flashes her badge at me through the glass door.

“Ma’am, we need you to open up. We have reports of food poisoning linked to this establishment.”

My hands fumble with the lock. “Of course. But I should tell you, I’ve never had any complaints before today-”

“We’ll determine that,” she cuts me off, already pushing past me into the shop. “I’m Inspector Martinez. These are my colleagues, Dr. Kim and Mr. Thompson. We’ll need access to your kitchen, storage areas, and all food preparation surfaces.”

“Absolutely. I want to get to the bottom of this too.” I lead them toward the back, my mind racing. “I use only the freshest ingredients, follow all safety protocols=”

“Ma’am, please don’t interfere with our investigation,” Dr. Kim says coldly, snapping on latex gloves. “We’ll ask questions if we need clarification.”

They swarm through my kitchen like locusts, swabbing surfaces, taking samples, marking everything with numbered tags. Each movement feels like a violation, like they’re dismantling my life piece by piece.

“What’s the shelf life on this?” Inspector Martinez holds up a container of flour.

“It expires next month. Everything’s clearly labeled with purchase and expiration dates.”

She makes a note without acknowledging my answer.

“Temperature logs?” Mr. Thompson demands.

I show him my meticulous records, but he barely glances at them before moving on to the next violation he’s hoping to find.

Two hours later, they emerge from my kitchen with sealed evidence bags and grim

expressions.

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“We’re shutting you down pending investigation results,” Inspector Martinez announces, slapping a bright red closure notice on my front window. “Could be a week, could be a

month.”

“A month?” My voice cracks. “But I have orders, regular customers-”

“Should have thought of that before you poisoned half the neighborhood,” Dr. Kim mutters.

“I didn’t poison anyone!” The words explode out of me. “I’ve been baking for six months without a single problem!”

“The evidence suggests otherwise,” Inspector Martinez says, not even looking at me as she packs up her clipboard. “Don’t remove that notice. Don’t attempt to operate. We’ll be in

touch.”

They leave me standing in my empty shop, staring at the red notice that might as well be a death sentence. Sunrise Bakes – CLOSED FOR HEALTH VIOLATIONS.

I call Chloe with shaking fingers.

“They shut me down,” I whisper when she answers.

“What? Who shut you down?”

“Health department. Someone posted online that my bread made them sick. Multiple people are claiming food poisoning.” My voice breaks. “Chloe, I’ve never had a single complaint. Something’s wrong.”

“I’m coming over.”

Twenty minutes later, Chloe storms into the bakery like an avenging angel, her lawyer instincts already in full gear.

“Show me the post,” she demands, settling beside me at one of the small tables.

I pull up the review on my phone, watching her face darken as she reads.

“This is bullshit,” she says flatly. “Look at this account. Created yesterday, no followers, no other reviews. This is clearly fake.”

“But people are getting sick, Chloe.”

“Or so they claim.” She screenshots the post, her fingers flying across her phone. “I’m forwarding this to my tech guy. If this is coordinated, he’ll find the connection.”

“What if it’s not fake? What if I really did make people sick?” The thought makes me nauseous. “What if I missed something, contaminated something-”

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“Stop.” Chloe grabs my hands. “You’re the most careful person I know. You check expiration dates twice, sanitize everything, keep detailed records. This isn’t on you.”

“Then who?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

The front door chimes, and Lily runs in from school, her backpack bouncing against her small frame. She stops short when she sees our serious expressions.

“Mama? Why do you look sad?”

I force a smile, not wanting to worry her. “Just some grown–up problems, sweetheart. Nothing for you to worry about.”

But Lily’s too smart for her own good. She looks around the empty bakery, noting the lack of customers, the closed sign I had to put up.

“Is the bakery sick?” she asks quietly.

“Something like that.” I pull her onto my lap, breathing in her strawberry shampoo scent. “But we’ll figure it out.”

“Remember when I got sick last month and you made me soup and read me stories until I felt better?” Lily looks up at me with those wise brown eyes. “Maybe the bakery just needs soup and stories too.”

Despite everything, I smile. “Maybe it does.”

“I can help. I make very good pretend soup.” She hops down and pretends to stir an invisible pot. “There. All better!”

If only it were that simple.

My phone rings, Dorian’s name flashing on the screen. My heart lurches. He must have heard about the closure by now.

“Hello?”

“Scarlett? I just drove past the bakery. What’s going on?”

The concern in his voice makes my chest tight. “There were some complaints about food poisoning. The health department shut us down for investigation.”

“Food poisoning? That’s impossible. I eat there almost daily, and the quality is impeccable.”

“Tell that to the twelve customers who demanded refunds this morning.” I can’t keep the

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bitterness out of my voice.

“This doesn’t make sense. When did the complaints start?”

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“This morning. All at once. Like they coordinated it.” I pause, the thought hitting me for the first time. “Actually, that’s exactly what it was like. Coordinated.”

“Have you seen the social media posts?”

My stomach sinks. “Posts? Plural?”

“There are at least six different accounts posting similar stories. All claiming food poisoning from your bakery, all using almost identical language.”

I close my eyes, the pieces starting to fall into place. “Someone set me up.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Scarlett, I deal with corporate sabotage regularly. This has all the hallmarks of a coordinated attack.”

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