LOGINSabine’s words followed me out of the office like a perfume I didn’t want on my skin.
Accidents happen to careless wives.
She said it with that calm smile, as if she’d offered me a helpful tip about the weather.
Renaud held the door for me on the way out…not gentlemanly, not warm, just a quiet decision that put his body between me and her. Sabine stayed seated behind the desk, hands folded, watching us like she was watching numbers settle
The handle turned again.Slow. Careful. Like whoever held it had time.I stepped back from the wall of photos and timelines, my palm still warm from the paper I’d just touched. The lights in the war room stayed bright, almost cheerful, like this place didn’t understand shame.The latch clicked.I looked for a weapon and found… a stapler.Perfect. If I survived tonight, I’d frame it.The steel door opened a few inches. A slice of darkness cut into the room. Then a face appeared in that gap...lined, familiar, annoyed.Colette.She slid inside and shut the door behind her with the same care she used when setting a tray down.For one beat, neither of us spoke. The air felt tight, like it was waiting to snap.Colette’s eyes traveled over the wall.Then to me.Then back to the wall again.“You have a talent,” she said, voice low, “for walking into pla
Sabine Roche didn’t knock. She didn’t need to.She slipped into the room like a decision already made, coat smooth, hair perfect, not a drop of rain on her. The monitors kept their slow, stubborn rhythm beside Renaud’s bed. The beeping felt too calm for what had happened.Sabine’s eyes flicked over Renaud. One glance. Inventory taken. Then she looked at me.“Well,” she said, like she was commenting on a delayed meeting, “this is inconvenient.”I stared at her. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”Her mouth curved. Not warm. Not friendly. Just practiced.Gabriel stood near the door, silent, built like a wall that didn’t care who you were. Sabine didn’t even acknowledge him. That was its own kind of arrogance.A nurse came in, saw Sabine, and hesitated.Sabine gave her a small nod. The nurse relaxed and left again without a word.So, she had reached
The clinic didn’t look like a clinic.No bright posters. No plastic chairs. No bored children dragging toys across the floor. Just quiet glass, pale stone, and a receptionist who didn’t blink when Gabriel walked in like he owned the building.They took Renaud through a side door. No questions. No furrows in my face. Someone had already called ahead.I stayed close anyway.A nurse tried to guide me to a waiting area.“I’m his wife,” I said.She looked at Gabriel, not me.Gabriel nodded once. “She stays.”So I stayed.They moved fast. They cut away the cuff of his sleeve. They clipped something to his finger. The screen above him pulsed with numbers that meant nothing to me and everything to everyone else.Renaud’s face had turned a shade too pale under the lights. The stubborn line of his mouth was still there, though, like his body had decided to betray him and his p
Renaud didn’t fall like a man in a movie.He folded.One second he was holding himself upright with pure will, fingers white on the table edge, and the next his knees gave a little, like his body had quietly resigned.“Renaud…” I caught his arm.His skin felt warmer than it should have, and his breathing sounded wrong…shallow, clipped, like he couldn’t decide whether to inhale or spit.He tried to straighten. Pride. Habit. Stubbornness. Pick one.“Don’t,” I said, sharper than I meant. “Just…don’t.”His eyes found mine and didn’t quite hold. That scared me more than the sway.Across from us, Mr. Duvet’s smile had cracked. It was still on his face, but it wasn’t attached to anything underneath anymore.“Oh dear,” he said too loud. “Is he unwell?”“No,” I snapped. Then, because denial
Renaud still didn’t tell me the name.He said it once…someone I need to see will be there…and then he shut the door on the rest of the sentence like it was a room I wasn’t allowed to enter.He left me standing in the hallway, arms folded, trying not to look like a woman who’d been turned into a prop in her own life.Gabriel cleared his throat beside me. “We’ll start now.”“Start what?” I asked, even though I knew.“Crowd work,” he said.I sighed. “You should call it ‘How to Pretend You’re Fine While Everyone Studies You.’”Gabriel’s mouth twitched. “That’s accurate.”We trained again, faster this time. Walk, pause, angle. Hands relaxed. Eyes steady. No clutching. No flinching. I did it until my shoulders ached.Then Colette appeared and announced, like the house ran on bells and rules,
Renaud didn’t say who he needed to see.He just held my gaze for a beat, then turned away like the answer had already cost him enough.I followed him down the corridor anyway. Not because I expected him to suddenly become chatty. Because if I didn’t follow, I’d spend the night chewing on questions until my teeth cracked.Luc was on the sofa in the sitting room, a throw blanket over his legs, pretending he wasn’t shaking. Colette had placed a cup of tea near him, like tea could negotiate fear.Luc glanced up when we walked in. “So,” he said, voice too bright, “what’s tonight’s entertainment? Another secret corridor? A haunted railing?”“Don’t joke,” I said.Luc’s smile collapsed. “I’m not joking. I’m… coping.”Renaud didn’t react. He leaned down slightly and spoke to Luc in a calm, business tone. “You stay on t







