Madeleine opened the door to her office. This was not the first time that she had moved on her own during one of the Pauses, but for some reason things felt different somehow.
She had sent Jon to find Simone; they would need her later if they were to try and return things to the way they had been before whatever had happened had happened. She could hear the American calling for Simone a little farther down the corridor. She had already told him not to bother, shouting after him that Simone would no doubt be paused like Karyn was, but he hadn't listened.
Jon was just around the corner from Madeleine's office, and even though he believed Simone would not be able to answer him, he still found himself shouting, "Simone!" as he moved through the silent theatre.
He remembered the shock of seeing the young stagehand, Étienne, standing in the corridor blocking their way back into the main backstage passage. Madeleine had told Jon she knew another way off the stage. They had made their way back through the curtains and descended through an old trapdoor beneath the stage.
Of course, that had meant Jon had seen Karyn again.
She had remained exactly where he had first seen her, frozen in formation with the rest of the chorus.
He had hoped he had imagined seeing her there earlier. He hadn't.
She was still there.
He forced the image from his mind. There was work to do. He had to find Simone. She was the key to rescuing Karyn.
All of that had happened before he and Madeleine separated. She had said she needed to check something and would meet him outside her office.
Meanwhile, inside that very office, Madeleine opened the old trunk containing the journals she had shown Jon earlier.
She selected one she had not yet found time to read.
Her old mentor had left her many such journals, telling her they were important and that, one day, they would help her.
Madeleine carefully opened the volume and began to read.
“Oh, mon amour, tu me manques tellement. Cela fait si longtemps que je t'ai perdu. Voilà maintenant au moins dix ans. Je ne savais pas comment j'allais survivre ici. Il m'a fallu beaucoup de temps, ainsi que l'aide d'une jeune fille du théâtre, pour apprendre le français. Aujourd'hui, j'ai presque l'accent d'une Parisienne... presque. Tu l'aurais aimée. Je sais que tu l'aurais aimée.”
(Oh, my love, I miss you so much. It has been so long since I lost you. It has been at least ten years now. I didn't know how I was going to survive here. It took me a long time, and the help of a young girl at the theatre, to learn French. These days I almost sound like a Parisian, almost. You would have liked her. I know you would have.)
Madeleine turned several pages before continuing.
“21 mai 1938. Il me semble toujours étrange d'écrire une date pareille. Maman ne naîtra même pas avant un an ou deux... en supposant qu'elle survive à ce qui approche. J'aimerais tant pouvoir les prévenir, mais je ne peux pas. Qui sait quels problèmes cela provoquerait si je me mêlais de quelque chose d'aussi important ? Hier soir, j'ai rencontré un jeune homme sympathique. Il disait venir de 1985. En arrivant, il a eu très peur en voyant tout le monde immobile. Il m'a dit qu'ils avaient l'air d'être "en pause" une fois qu'il s'était calmé. "En pause"... j'aime mieux ce mot que "figés", je crois. Il m'a proposé de partir avec lui si je le voulais, mais je lui ai répondu que j'avais une promesse à tenir. Je ne lui ai pas dit à qui. Comment aurais-je pu lui expliquer que j'avais promis à mon mari, mort depuis des années avant même sa naissance, que je resterais ici pour protéger tous ceux qui franchiraient les portes, comme nous l'avions fait tant d'années auparavant ?”
(21 May 1938. It still feels strange writing a date like that. My mum won't even be born for another year or two... assuming she survives what is coming. I wish I could warn them, but I can't. Who knows what problems it might cause meddling with something that important? Last night I met a nice young man. He said he was from 1985. When he arrived, he was terrified to see everyone standing completely still. Once he had calmed down, he said they looked "paused." Paused... I think I like that better than frozen. He said I could leave with him if I wanted to, but I told him I had a promise to keep. I didn't tell him who that promise was to. How could I explain that I had promised my husband—dead for years before he was even born—that I would stay here to protect anyone who came through one of the Doors, just as we had all those years ago?)
Madeleine almost dropped the journal.
Her mentor had been the one who first told her about the Doors.
But she had never known that she and her husband had once come through one themselves.
Slowly, Madeleine reached into her pocket and removed the watch her old mentor had given her all those years ago.
“Je n'en avais aucune idée, madame.” (I had no idea, madam.)
She had always known that her old friend had lost her husband long before the two of them met, but she had never known how either of them had first arrived at the theatre...
"Simone!" Jon's voice echoed along the corridor outside.
“Quel Américain obstiné... Elle est en pause comme tout le monde. Elle ne pourra pas te répondre.”
(Stubborn American... She's paused like everyone else. She won't be able to answer you.)
Madeleine closed the journal, slipped the watch back into her pocket, and walked towards the door to meet him.
