Vivienne had just gotten out of the kitchen when she saw Madame Lefevre pass by in the corridor.
Her body stiffened at once, as if her spine had just turned into a wooden stick. Her arms went straight to her sides and she stood tall, chin tucked, hands folded like some proper maid. Then, after three seconds, her brain finally caught up with her body.
"What the hell, Vivienne," she thought. "You're not actually a maid. Why are you acting like some soldier at roll call? You're a thief, you idiot. You're supposed to sneak, not salute."
Her heart was pounding. She thought Madame Lefevre would stop her, scold her, demand to know where she'd been all morning. She even pictured herself getting dragged by the ear, exposed, ruined.
But to her greatest shock, Madame Lefevre didn't even look her way. She just walked past with her usual stiff face, skirts brushing the marble floor like nothing at all was wrong.
