Todos los capítulos de The Night Paris Burned, We Loved: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

“Leila Haddad. You're under arrest on suspicion of arson.”Leila kept her palm pressed against the blood-soaked bandage. If she let go, the man beneath her hands might die.“Move him first. He can barely breathe.”A man in a black police uniform caught her wrist. His grip tightened through the bloodstained glove. The name on his badge read GABRIEL MOREAU.“Paramedics are on their way.”“You said that ten minutes ago. He doesn't have another ten minutes.”The food distribution center in eastern Paris was burning. Flour drifted like snow across the street, glittering with broken glass. Across the road, someone was pulling down a shop's metal shutter. Protest chants tangled with screams until it was impossible to tell who was chasing whom.The injured man in Leila's arms was a police officer. His uniform bore the name JULIEN. She had dragged him from beneath a fallen sign after the explosion.“Officer Moreau.”Another officer hurried over.“We found her near the warehouse. A witness iden

“I'm being released? Does that mean the charges have been dropped?”“No.”Leila's smile vanished at Adèle's answer.“The prosecutor doesn't believe the evidence currently justifies keeping you in custody. The investigation is still open.”“So people can keep calling me an arsonist.”“Then we'll have to put that right.”It was morning when they stepped out of the police station. Broken bottles and sodden leaflets littered the street. Someone had written BREAD IS NOT A LUXURY on a supermarket shutter. Someone else had scrawled THIEVES GO HOME over it.Samira came running from across the road.“Leila!”The sisters threw their arms around each other. Samira's coat smelled of detergent; she must have come straight from her night shift at the distribution warehouse.“Did you sleep?” Leila asked.“With you under arrest?”“I'm all right.”“Don't say that. I saw you on the news. Everyone's sharing your face.”Samira held out her phone. Abuse poured down the screen beneath an image of Leila car

“Does that mean I've cleared my name?”Leila looked down at the documents Adèle had handed her.“At the very least, that video alone can't be used to call you an arsonist.”“Why does that sound so small?”“Because the people accusing you were much louder.”Adèle showed her a chart comparing the original bakery footage with emergency dispatch records and the paramedics' arrival time. She'd plainly spent the night checking timestamps that didn't agree.“The police have acknowledged the problem with the video's timestamp. It doesn't end the arson investigation, but they say they'll examine the possibility of tampering separately.”“Then tell the news. Tell them there's footage of me saving someone.”“We can. But we'll conceal other people's faces and state only what we can verify.”Leila flexed her fingers. The handcuff marks were fainter than yesterday, but they hadn't disappeared.“Fine. I'll speak for myself.”Adèle raised her eyebrows.“An interview could bring more attacks.”“If I h

“You want our list?”Leila stared at the man outside the relief center. He introduced himself as a member of the Valois Group legal team. His tie was immaculate. After glancing at the damaged shutter, he offered her a document.“It's a request for cooperation on security grounds. If you provide information on your volunteers and food recipients, we'll supply the materials needed for repairs.”“Why do you need their names?”“To ensure no one involved in criminal activity is among them.”“And how will you decide whether the old man who came for bread yesterday is a criminal?”“There's no need to become emotional.”“How thoughtful. You want to take other people's names, and you're worried about my feelings.”The man pointed to the signature line.“If you refuse, your center may be excluded from assistance.”Leila folded the paper and handed it back.“Then we'll find bread somewhere else.”He left without another word. Samira was waiting against the wall.“You realize you've just cost us

“Sign here and you can reopen the relief center.”The contract the woman handed Leila bore the Valois Group logo. Leila read the name of the woman sitting across from her.Claire Valois. Head of public relations. And Étienne Valois's wife.“There's a clause allowing you to use my face in advertisements.”“It's part of a campaign about overcoming the crisis. At times like these, showing people working together matters.”“People lost their jobs because of a video showing my face.”“That's the misunderstanding we're offering to correct.”“You need an advertising contract to correct a misunderstanding?”Claire pressed her lips together. Her fingernails whitened against the edge of the papers.“Ms. Haddad, you're having trouble using the relief center building right now, aren't you? The refrigeration equipment is broken too.”“How do you know that?”“We assess the condition of facilities we may support.”“Then you must know where our medicines were moved.”“That's outside my responsibiliti