“That’s not my problem,” replied Nora, with an assertiveness that surprised her. “And incidentally, I’d like my front-door key back.”
Tiphaine raised a disdainful eyebrow. Without saying a word, she went to the dining room, where she had left her jacket, plunged her hand into one of the pockets, and pulled out a set of keys. She removed one and held it out to Nora, who grabbed it, her eyes lit up with a glint of hatred.
“Stay away from me, Tiphaine. It’ll be better for everyone.”
“You’re saying that to me? That’s rich coming from you.”
“Calm down, ladies,” said Baldy. “Sometimes people say things they later regret.” The two women eyed each other for a few more seconds, each prepared to force their enemy to be the first to look away. And then, unexpectedly, it was Tiphaine who gave up and turned away. Nora was surprised and relieved. What Gérard had told her just before he died, and what she’d seen in the file folder, filled her with dread. Her neighbor scared her. She didn’t feel safe here anymore.
Her relief didn’t last long. Suddenly, the presence of Tiphaine in her house and the feelings she inspired in her made her think of Gérard’s file. The possibility that her neighbor might have found the precious document—thus providing clear evidence that Gérard had come over to Nora’s house after leaving the Geniots, not to mention everything that had happened after—petrified her. Panic blurred her clarity of thought. She had to make sure the file folder was still in its place. But she also had to avoid drawing Tiphaine’s and the cops’ attention to the living room, and especially the bookshelf.
It was time for everyone to leave. Her nerves on edge, she turned to the officers and thanked them for their help. They inquired solicitously as to how she was feeling, wanting to be sure that she was okay before they left. Nora reassured them she was fine. Tiphaine got up to go as well. She put her jacket on and headed for the front door with the police officers. All three left the house at the same time. As Nora pushed the door closed behind them, Tiphaine nodded goodbye to the police officers. She was about to go into her own house when she turned around to them and said, “I have no idea what she told you, but the woman’s lost her grip on reality. I’m not sure she’s capable of looking after her own children. You saw what a state she put her son in.”
The two men nodded in agreement and got into the car.
Nora shut the front door and went into the living room, where she saw, with relief, that the folder was still in its place. She felt herself flush with a kind of retrospective horror—she had not even realized she had left such damning evidence in plain sight. What incredible luck Tiphaine hadn’t seen it. She had to be more careful in the future, find a more discreet hiding place.
Nora reached for the folder to put it somewhere safer. But as she took it down she realized immediately that it was unusually light, and there was no sound of rustling pages inside. Another shock, much worse this time, because there was no getting away from it. She knew what had happened. She felt it in her hands, the emptiness, the nothingness, the absence.
Even so, the physical evidence didn’t correlate in her mind, like a theory so absurd it can’t be proved. Shaking from head to foot, Nora practically ripped it open to check the contents.
Her body felt as empty as the folder she was holding in her hands.
Chapter 49
It was Inès who saw Milo first. Her heart pounded in her chest. She recognized him from a distance, his height, the way he moved, like someone who had shot up too fast and still hadn’t come to terms with his new physique. The way he walked, too. Slow but sure. Poised. Thoughtful, almost. She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to turn around and pretend not to have seen him. It seemed prudent to let him be the one to see her first. To wait for his reaction. If he didn’t want to see her he could just keep walking, and at least she would know where she stood. And if he did decide to greet her, she would feign surprise.
She continued walking in the opposite direction to Milo. She could feel the cardiac muscle in her chest beating harder and harder, like it was out of control. He couldn’t possibly avoid seeing her, it was a matter of seconds now. If he didn’t react, it meant he wasn’t interested in her. She kept walking, forcing herself to slow down. She felt the blood pulse in her temples, her breathing growing shorter and faster; she almost had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other. She wished she could disappear because he hadn’t called out to her, he was going to pretend not to see her.
“Hi, Inès.”
She thought she was going to faint. She was still facing away from him; she closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. She turned to him with a glorious smile.
“Hey! Milo! I didn’t see you.”
She stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss on each cheek. Two anonymous kisses, as indifferent as she could be. He seemed disappointed, looked at her circumspectly, trying to work out how to interpret this chilly greeting.
“How are things?” he asked in a friendly manner.
“Not too bad, thanks,” she lied, with far more composure than she really felt.
“Have you had any news from your dad?”
Inès looked at him in surprise. “Who told you he’d disappeared?”
“The cops came by our place. Asked us a few questions, told us you hadn’t heard from him.”
“So you knew,” she murmured, more to herself than to Milo.
It felt like her guts were gaping open, leaving an aching emptiness in her belly.
“Er, yeah, I knew,” said Milo with disheartening honesty.
“And you didn’t call me? You didn’t even answer when I called you.”
“I...I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“But I called you, so you weren’t disturbing me,” exclaimed Inès. Her fury swept away her sadness all at once.
