"Sophie!" Monique rises to embrace her. "I was just talking to Iris about Marguerite."
"Iris." The woman turns to me, and her smile warms. "I've heard about you. I'm Sophie Varin—the village doctor. I was with Marguerite at the end."
"You were her doctor?"
"Among other things. Friend. Confessor. Late-night whisky companion." Sophie's eyes crinkle. "She was a remarkable woman. I'm glad you're finally here."
Cat appears from the direction of the café, shopping bags in hand. Her face lights up when she sees Sophie.
"Sophie! I didn't know you'd be here."
"Market day—I always come for Madame Dulac's vegetables." Sophie embraces Cat warmly, and I notice how easy they aretogether, how comfortable. Something uncomfortable twists in my stomach.
"Cat's been telling me about your grand-mère's project," Sophie says, glancing between us. "The ninety-day condition. Very Marguerite."
"She always did like to meddle," Cat agrees.
"She called it 'arranging destinies.' I believe her exact words were—" Sophie affects a gravelly French accent. "'If I leave them alone, they will be stubborn forever. Someone has to force them to see.'"
"See what?" I ask.
Sophie's expression goes soft. "That they belong to each other. That they're family, whether they like it or not. That Marguerite's great love story wasn't just Hélène—it was all of you."
I feel Cat go still beside me. The words hang in the warm air, weighted with meaning I'm not sure I understand.
"I should go," Sophie says, glancing at her watch. "House calls this afternoon. But I hope I'll see you both soon. The village fête is next month—you should come."
She's gone before we can answer, disappearing into the crowd with a wave.
Cat and I stand in silence for a moment, watching her go.
"She's nice," I say finally. "Sophie."
"Yeah." Cat's voice is strange. "She and Grand-mère were close. Especially at the end."
"You two seem close too."
Cat glances at me, something unreadable in her expression. "We knew each other as kids. Her family's been in the village forever. She was... kind to me. When I came back and didn't know anyone anymore."
I nod, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that hasn't quite gone away.
"What did Sophie mean?" I ask as we begin walking back toward the farmhouse. "About Grand-mère's great love story being all of us?"
Cat is quiet for a moment.
"I think she meant that loving someone isn't just one thing," she says finally. "It's all the people you love, all the ways you love them. Hélène was part of Grand-mère's story. But so were we."
The lavender fields come into view, purple-gray beneath the midday sun. The farmhouse rises beyond them, honey-colored and waiting.
"We're her love story," I say slowly. "Whether we like it or not."
"Yeah." Cat's shoulder brushes mine as we walk. "Something like that."
8
CAT
The rain starts just before dawn, a soft pattering that builds to a steady drumming on the old stone roof. I lie in bed listening to it for longer than I should, cocooned in blankets and the particular comfort of a storm outside while you're warm inside.
