The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 657

Leilani sat up, a little surprised. “Yvonne? What are you doing up so early?”

Yvonne walked in with a cheerful grin, holding a glass of warm water. “Because it’s your birthday!”

She handed the glass to Leilani and winked. “Leilani, go get washed up. There’s a surprise waiting for you in the living room!”

Leilani took the glass, the warm water chasing away the last traces of morning grogginess. She was curious. “What kind of surprise?”

Yvonne shook her head mysteriously. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to see for yourself!”

With that, she turned and darted out of the room, her footsteps as light as a fawn’s.

…

In the living room, a faint, sweet aroma greeted Leilani as she walked out.

On the table sat a delicate little cake, about six inches in diameter. The frosting wasn’t perfectly smooth, but it was adorned with fresh strawberries and blueberries. Beside them, “Happy Birthday, Leilani” was scrawled a bit crookedly in chocolate sauce.

Leilani froze.

Yvonne stood nearby, nervously wringing her hands. “I made it myself, Leilani. Happy birthday. But… this is my first time making a cake, so it might not look very good…”

Leilani walked closer and looked down at the small cake. The edges of the frosting were a little uneven, and the strawberries were cut in different sizes, but each one was washed clean, and the blueberries were plump and glossy. It was obvious that the baker was inexperienced, but the cake, though small, looked exquisite and had clearly been made with great care.

More importantly, Yvonne had made it by hand just for her birthday. The sentiment behind it meant more than the cake itself.

…

In the bathroom, as Leilani brushed her teeth, she could hear Yvonne humming a little tune in the kitchen, the crisp sound of a spatula hitting a pan ringing through the air.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, an unconscious smile playing on her lips. Life was truly strange sometimes. If she thought back to the person she was right after getting out of prison, she never would have imagined that the girl who once lay in a hospital bed would now be bustling around, baking her a cake and making her noodle soup. Or that she herself would be surrounded by so much love.

…

When Leilani came out, a steaming bowl of noodle soup was waiting for her at the dining table. The broth was clear, the noodles long and thin, topped with a poached egg and garnished with a few green vegetables and chopped scallions.

Yvonne sat across from her, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes sparkling. “Hurry, try it!”