Page 194 of Where the Snakes Sleep

I stare at him. “Were you reading my mind?”

“You have been sitting there staring at the gate for two minutes.”

“Oh.” I grin. “Tu m’aimes.” You love me.

“Yes.”

“French.”

He looks at me with the resigned expression of a man who has accepted that this is apparently his life. “Je t’aime.” I love you.

I smile. “Encore.” Again.

We both hear it, that word.

Once a password.

Once a plea from a heartbroken, frightened man who wanted a second dance.

Once something attached to fear and evidence and everything that dragged us into each other’s lives.

Again.

Camille steps closer, his hand coming up to rest gently at the side of my neck.

“Je t’aime,” he says again. I love you.

I lean into him.

“Encore.”