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"Maman," I plead, kneeling before her grave, fingers digging into the soft earth. "What should I do? I know I should leave but I...."
The wind whispers through the trees, carrying with it the scent of rain and the distant murmur of thunder. In that quiet moment, I find solace in the knowledge that my mother's spirit watches over me, guiding my heart even now.
As I rise to my feet, a feeling of unease slithers up my spine like an icy serpent. I glance around, searching for its source. There, hidden in the shadows just beyond the cemetery gates, I catch a fleeting glimpse of movement. A figure, lurking in the darkness.
"Who's there?" I call out, my voice wavering with apprehension. A car door slams across the street, and the figure melts away like a phantom, swallowed by the night.
My heart pounds against my ribcage as I hurry home, every whisper of wind and rustle of leaves sending a shiver down my spine. Is it Marcel, seeking revenge? Or one of his minions, dispatched to watch me? The thought quickens my pace, urging me forward.
I reach my doorstep, pulse racing, and slip inside, locking the door behind me. No matter who—or what—lurks in those shadows, I do not want to give up my city, my home, by fear. My mother's spirit watches over me, her love and guidance granting me the strength to stand tall in the face of darkness. And with that strength, I will forge my own path—one step at a time.
It’s like Uncle Jules said—it’s not forever. Leaving may be what’s best.
In the dim glow of my bedroom, moonlight spills across the floor like a pool of liquid silver. My fingers tremble as they clutch the handle of my suitcase, the weight of my decision bearing down on me. I cannot let fear command my life. I must take control, even if it means leaving behind everything I've ever known.
"Uncle Jules was right," I whisper to myself, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Mother would want me safe."
With each folded dress, each neatly rolled pair of stockings, I can feel the ties that bind me to this city unraveling. A symphony of memories plays in my mind: the laughter shared with Etienne and Bastien, the warmth of Uncle Claude's embrace, the love that bloomed within these very walls.
"Damn you, Marcel," I hiss through gritted teeth, anger flaring in my chest like a wildfire. "You won't win."
I pause, staring at a worn photograph of my mother. Her eyes, so like mine, seem to bore into my soul, offering comfort and guidance. "Please, maman," I pray silently, "give me the strength to do what is necessary."
"Going somewhere?"
The sudden sound of Bastien's voice startles me. He leans against the doorframe, dark eyes searching mine for answers. His presence brings a wave of conflicting emotions crashing down upon me. I swallow hard, struggling to find my voice.
"Marcel isn't going to stop, Bastien," I say, my heart aching at the thought of leaving him behind. "I can't stay here and wait for him to strike."
A storm brews behind Bastien's eyes, his jaw clenched tight. "You don't have to run, Lisette." He moves closer, reaching for my hand. "I'll protect you, no matter what it takes."
My heart swells with love for this man, who would face the world for me. But how can I ask him to shoulder such a burden? "Bastien, I can't let you risk your life for me." The words catch in my throat, choked out by the tears that threaten to fall.
"Then let me go with you," he pleads, desperation lacing his voice. "We can find a new life together, far from all of this."
The temptation pulls at me, nearly breaking my resolve. But I cannot ask him to abandon his own family, his own legacy. And if Marcel still hunted me, Bastien's presence would only put him further in harm's way.
"No," I say firmly, my fingers tightening around the suitcase handle. "This is something I must face alone."
His face crumbles, but he nods in understanding. "I won't stop loving you, Lisette," he murmurs, pulling me into a fierce embrace. "No matter where you go, or what may come."
My heart echoes his sentiment, crying out with every fiber of its being. But I know I must be strong—for my mother, for myself, and for the life I have yet to build.
"Je t'aime, Bastien," I whisper into his shoulder, letting myself sink into him one last time. "But this is the path I must choose."
