It was afternoon.
Sarah was woken up by the heat, and also by hunger.
Her sleep had not been restful; her dreams were filled with endless bills and screaming emergency patients.
Dazed, she glanced at the alarm clock; it was already one-thirty in the afternoon.
"Damn it, I overslept."
She muttered, preparing to head to the kitchen for some cold water, but her nose caught an enticing aroma first.
It wasn't the familiar, shriveled smell of preservative-laden frozen pizza from the microwave, nor was it the pungent, heavy scent of curry from her Indian neighbor downstairs.
It was the smell of home, a mix of sweet and sour tomato, the savory aroma of minced meat fat, and the toasted scent of bread.
Dragging her legs as if they were filled with lead, Sarah rubbed her messy hair and walked out of the bedroom.
"Alice, what the hell are you doing? If you've set the kitchen on fire..."
The complaint died in her throat halfway through.
Standing at the bedroom doorway, Sarah widened her eyes, even wondering if she was still dreaming.
The living room, which had been chaotic and piled high with expired magazines and takeout boxes, was now remarkably orderly.
The floor had been polished until it shone, even reflecting her image.
The clothes that had been strewn across the sofa were gone, replaced by neatly folded blankets.
Even the coffee table, usually covered in dust, had been wiped spotless; on it sat the glass vase she had once despised because of a chip in it, now filled with wild flowers picked from somewhere.
And on the dining table, usually reserved for stacking bills, sat two steaming plates of lunch.
The golden fried eggs had crispy, browned edges, two slices of perfectly toasted bread gave off a wheaty aroma, and in the center was a large plate of bright red spaghetti bolognese.
The meat sauce coated every strand of pasta, and it was even garnished with a sprinkle of green herbs.
Alice was sitting at the table, holding a book.
It was the anatomy atlas Sarah had used when studying for her nursing license, and she was reading it with great interest.
"You're awake? Just in time for lunch."
Alice closed the book, her tone as natural as if she had lived here for ten years.
Sarah walked to the table, dazed, looking at this lunch that could be called luxurious for this household, and then at the calm-looking young girl.
She felt an inexplicable sense of discomfort, as if she had walked onto the wrong movie set.
"You made all this?"
Sarah pointed at the table, her tone full of disbelief.
"Yes." Alice pulled out a chair and sat down, her tone relaxed. "I saw there was only pasta in the fridge, so I went to the grocery store and bought some tomatoes and ground meat. Don't worry, I only spent half of one of those twenty-dollar bills; the rest of the money is in that jar."
"I'm not asking about the money."
Sarah sat down and picked up a fork to twirl a bundle of pasta.
"I mean, didn't you used to not even be able to boil water?"
"People can be changed by their environment, Aunt Sarah."
Alice picked up a slice of toast, tore off a small piece, and put it in her mouth, her eyes flickering slightly as if recalling something.
"On that island, if you didn't want to starve, you had to learn how to prepare food. Although there's no wild boar or dinosaur eggs here, handling these ingredients is much easier than it was over there."
Sarah's hand holding the fork paused.
Looking at the girl across from her who spoke so casually about surviving on a deserted island, she suddenly felt a lump in her throat.
She didn't speak again, instead lowering her head to put the pasta into her mouth.
The sweet and sour taste of the tomato and the rich aroma of the meat sauce exploded in her mouth; the pasta was cooked to an al dente, chewy perfection, and that solid sense of satisfaction instantly soothed her stomach, which had been empty all day.
It was really delicious.
A hundred times better than the slop she ate at the hospital, and even more authentic than that overpriced Italian restaurant on the corner.
The living room fell quiet, leaving only the faint sound of knives and forks clinking against plates as they ate.
Sarah ate quickly and with relish. The facial lines, which had been tight and sagging from long-term sleep deprivation and anxiety, softened imperceptibly under the comfort of the hot meal.
A few minutes later, the plate was empty.
Sarah put down her fork and let out a satisfied burp.
She glanced at Alice, who was quietly eating the last bite of her fried egg, and her lips moved, as if she wanted to say that word, but years of habitual toughness and awkwardness made her unable to get it out.
Finally, she stood up and walked to the fridge.
"Here."
A bottle of ice-cold soda slid across the table to Alice, while Sarah poured herself a cup of strong coffee to wake up.
"Wash the dishes when you're done. Since your cooking is decent enough, the kitchen belongs to you from now on. And like I said, don't expect a paycheck from me."
Sarah said, glancing at the clock on the wall, her tone returning to that hurried, professional state.
"Hurry up. We have to go to the community service center this afternoon. I've already scheduled the school district registration. As your guardian, I have to get you into school."
Alice held the bottle of ice-cold soda and watched Sarah's back as she sank into the sofa, not angry at the other woman's bluntness.
------------------------
There are already 70+ chapters available on my Patreon!
The story will continue to update 1 chapter per day on Webnovel,
while early access chapters are posted on Patreon.
Maybe it's not worth it today but it could be later
[email protected]/Kazenova223
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"