Night Carved Paths Into Silence by Zyrel Ash 38
Chapter 38
She remembered all too well how exacting Madeleine had been.
Just last month, she’d thrown an entire plate because Kirsten
used slightly too much salt in the grilled salmon.
The month before, she’d complained the seafood risotto lacked
sufficient variety, forcing Kirsten to visit the night market for
fresh ingredients and remake the dish.
The memories flooded back, each more uncomfortable than the
last.
So when Madeleine took her first bite now, Kirsten held her
breath.
“Hmm?”
Madeleine chewed and turned to her. “Kirsten, how did you
prepare this stew? It’s wonderfully light!”
Kirsten’s heart sank.
“This was definitely sarcasm!” she thought.
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Kirsten waited anxiously for the expected sarcasm.
But she soon realized Madeleine wasn’t being facetious. She genuinely enjoyed the food…
Within ten minutes, most of the dishes were nearly finished, though the risotto remained largely untouched.
Noticing Kirsten’s uneasy stare, Madeleine assumed it was about the uneaten risotto and quickly explained.
“My calorie intake is a bit high today, so I’m cutting back on carbs.”
“Calories?”
Kirsten was surprised, recalling her recent comment about the custard being too sweet.
“Are you dieting, Mrs. Livingston? You’re not overweight at all.”
If anything, she was slightly thin.
“Not exactly. I want to start dancing again, and my current form isn’t ideal. Kirsten, could you prepare lower–calorie meals for me from now on?”
Hearing her polite request, Kirsten couldn’t believe her ears.
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The former Madeleine was rarely this polite.
She nodded quickly, not daring to contradict her.
“Of course. I’m actually a certified nutritionist. I’ll ensure your
meals are both delicious and healthy.”
“Wow!”
Madeleine clasped her hands together in delight, startling
Kirsten again.
“Kirsten, you’re amazing! No wonder Kev is so tall for his age.”
Kirsten’s smile was strained.
“This wasn’t sarcasm?” she wondered.
Unaware of Kirsten’s doubts, Madeleine was thrilled.
With a healthy diet and proper exercise, she would regain her
optimal physique soon.
Another thing excited her.
She’d discovered a dance studio on the lower level of the villa,
though it was dusty from disuse.
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When Meagan found out, she broke into a cold sweat and immediately fetched cleaning supplies.
“This is bizarre. Mrs. Livingston hasn’t used the studio in years.
What’s gotten into her?”
After her nap, the studio was spotless.
Madeleine inspected it, utterly pleased, and immediately took a
photo to send to her cousin, Minerva.
Madeleine texted, “My dance studio. Impressive?”
Minerva replied after a while.
“Such a waste! You don’t even dance. Why keep a studio this
nice?”
Madeleine smirked.
“Says who? I’m definitely dancing again. Just wait until I’m back
on stage!”
Her body felt stiff from years of inactivity. Warm–up and
stretching alone took nearly two hours.
Her leotard was soaked with sweat. She’d bitten her lip raw but
never made a sound.
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This was typical for her.
When her mother first sent her to dance classes at five or six,
other children cried during stretches and leg lifts.
But Madeleine never uttered a word.
Her mother often recalled picking her up, finding her biting her
lip, tears falling silently, refusing to cry out.
Her later success in dance proved those early tears and sweat
were not in vain.
What a pity.
She’d stopped for nearly eight years.
Madeleine bit her lip harder.
What was lost couldn’t be reclaimed. All she could do was fight
time and recover what she could.
She was Madeleine. She never admitted defeat.
She had instructed Meagan and Kirsten not to disturb her
during practice.
For hours, she was alone, losing track of time.
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Her hands trembled as she picked up a water bottle. As she
checked the time, her eyes widened in shock.
“After five? Oh no.”
Kevin’s kindergarten ended at 4:30 PM. She had promised to
pick him up.
“Oh no, what a terrible mother I am. I broke my promise.”
She changed clothes hastily and asked Kirsten to call the driver.
“Mrs. Livingston, the driver has already left to fetch Mr. Kevin.
Please don’t worry.”
Madeleine stopped.
“Oh, he’s already been sent.”
She started to ask why she hadn’t been informed, but
remembered her own instructions.
This was her own fault.
Kirsten nodded, glancing at the clock. “It’s just a bit strange.
They’re usually back by now. Traffic must be bad.”
As Madeleine considered going to check, a car pulled up
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outside.
“They’re back!” she thought.
Madeleine hurried out, ready to apologize profusely to her son.
Outside, she saw Nanette.
She wore a beautiful floral dress, her hair elegantly pinned up
with a decorative clip, a picture of grace.
She stepped out of the car, leaned back in to unbuckle Kevin’s
seat belt, and carefully lifted him out.
Kevin had his back to Madeleine, so she couldn’t see his
expression.
Madeleine stood still, a complex feeling stirring inside her.
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