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“Don’t you understand now?” Mireille quickly closes the bedroom door behind us. After Marchaud’s interjection, Uncle had asked that they be excused. I had watched them talk for a few minutes, then Uncle declared he was leaving for the night.
“I see it now. I see why there were only pages here and there. The whole thing, in its entirety- yes, that’s why no one person could have it! That’s why they had to keep it in a neutral place, like the abbey.” Mireille paces our bedroom in excitement, clutching the letter in her hand. “That’s why they needed us to get it back from Altena. She was tearing them apart, splitting them apart with it. Just like Marchaud ripping that napkin.”
I sit down on the bed, bewildered. Could all this be true?
“And now Droger has it. It’s not just insurance- it’s the very heart of Soldats!” her face is flushed with excitement, and her eyes glitter in a way that makes me uneasy.
“I’m going to make some calls back to Corsica. I need to see if what Droger wrote in the letter is the truth.” She strides over to the dresser and yanks her phone out of her purse.
“Mireille-” I start, but she shakes her head impatiently at me as she opens the bedroom door.
“I’ll be back soon.” she slams the door behind her.
“But- Mireille…” I sigh. “If the book is the heart of Soldats- then what is it for Noir?”

I wander back out into the living room. The door to the den is closed; I can hear Mireille talking inside the room. Marchaud sits impassively in a chair by the door. I go over to him and stand silently next to him.
“You have questions for me.” He doesn’t bother to look at me.
“I just want the truth.”
“The truth… died with Altena. We should leave it at that.”
I sigh, and scuff my toes across the thick carpet.
“But Droger…seems to know some things.”
“He will twist what he knows to his advantage. Beware.” his reply is curt.
“I just want to…” I falter. I want to know…everything.
“It is better to deal with our current situation. Chasing the ghosts of the past- will surely disturb those who should not be disturbed.”
I decide to try one more time.
“He called me...Anna.”
Marchaud’s head jerks around and he looks at me. His eyes narrow.
“And we all know what happened to her, don’t we?”