Madeline and Calhoun left the gallery, making their way towards the dining room as it was the time of supper. Her mood still hadn't gotten better, but Madeline had stopped worrying about what took place post morning. Coming to terms that her grandfather was dead was something she would need to sleep on for the second time, and this time she hoped she wouldn't dream about him in the coffin.
Even though her grandparents had tried to kill her in the past and this morning, there was a part of her that was sad. Unlike what her grandparents presumed her to be, Madeline could feel pain. The uncertainty about who she was going to turn to be didn't disappear, and it weighed on her mind.
"You should stop thinking about it."
Madeline turned to look at Calhoun who was walking beside her, not a step forward nor behind, just at the right pace to keep up with her. "He was my grandfather," she whispered.
