Page 8 of Mountain Void

In the far stall, Charlie froze, perched on the closed toilet lid. Maybe if she didn’t move a muscle—

“Charlie? Are you okay?”

Carmen. Of course, Carmen would have noticed her leaving.

Charlie closed her eyes. She and Carmen had started work at the Fremont International School on the same day—Charlie in Primary, Carmen in Secondary, where she taught Spanish and Music. Carmen, with her endless patience, her warmth, and the most beautiful singing voice Charlie had ever heard. Carmen, who was not just her closest friend in France, but in the whole world.

“I know you’re in there, Charlie,” Carmen said, closer now.

“I’m … I’m fine. I just need a minute,” Charlie said. Two lies. She wasn’t fine, and a minute wouldn’t fix anything.

“I’ll wait,” Carmen said, in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

Charlie sighed. She stood, smoothed clothes that didn’t need smoothing, and flushed the toilet. As if that would fool anyone. Walking over to the sink and washing her hands bought her a few extra seconds but, eventually, she had to look up.

In the mirror, she met Carmen’s worried gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m okay,” Charlie repeated weakly.

There were things about her past she’d shared with Carmen—about the baby she’d lost, the divorce, at the way grief had left her feeling hollowed out. And then there were the things she hadn’t shared. She hadn’t told Carmen much about her ex-husband. She certainly hadn’t mentioned he worked for the PGHM.

Or that the thought of running into him was both terrifying and intoxicating.

“Are you sure?” Carmen’s dark eyes narrowed. “If you’re not feeling well, go home. There are enough of us here to cover the rest of the field trip.”

“No. I’m fine. I just … had a stomachache.”

The lie tasted sour. Charlie didn’t usually lie, and she certainly didn’t lie to her friends.

Carmen studied her for a long moment. “You don’t look fine.”

No. I’m scared. Scared that he might be here. Scared that he might not.

It was ridiculous, really. She was ridiculous. There were hundreds of gendarmes in the valley. There was no reason his team would be anywhere near Les Bois today. And yet, the thought that she might see him had kept her up all night. Because what wouldn’t she give to see him one more time, to—

No.

She wasn’t going to do this to herself. He’d made it clear he couldn’t move on after … after everything. He’d left her behind. He’d left her no choice. He’d forced her to rebuild alone.

And she’d done exactly that. She had a good life now. Good friends. An amazing job. Children who trusted her and made her want to get up every morning. Not happiness like before—not that sunlit, breathless safety she’d only ever known with him. But a new life. A calm, good life that was just the way she liked it.

“Charlie,” Carmen said softly, lifting a hand as if to stop the next lie coming out of Charlie’s mouth. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on. And maybe it’s something you can’t talk about. But whatever it is, whenever you’re ready to talk, just know that I’m here. Okay?”

It was exactly the right thing to say. Of course, Carmen would find the right thing to say. Charlie crossed the distance between them and hugged her friend tightly. “I know, Carmen. Thank you.”

“Come on,” Carmen said, laughing as she extricated herself from Charlie’s hug. “The kids will be almost done with the map reading activity by now. I have to say, I’m glad we got to skip that one.”

Charlie laughed. Even now, Carmen often got lost inside the school grounds. It was fair to say map reading was not one of her talents.

Outside, the kids were having the kind of fun only second graders know how to have. Charlie followed them to a set of benches and passed out ham and cheese baguettes and juice boxes, making sure the children all had one before handing the remaining ones to the teachers. It was nice to sit out here in the sun. A month earlier, it would have been too cold. A couple of months later, too warm. But today—right now—it was nice.

For the first time all day, Charlie felt herself relaxing. He wasn’t here. The ground felt solid beneath her feet. Everything was going to be okay. Charlie almost convinced herself that this was a good thing.

After lunch, they cleaned up after themselves, and then it was time for the final activity.

“You have a choice,” said the beautiful, red-haired gendarme who’d been showing them around. That was clever of her—giving them a choice. The children vibrated with excitement. “You can either build a snow shelter,” she continued, “or … climb our training wall.”