The elegant grand-mère I’d met had been replaced by an old lady with shaking hands who grabbed Xavier into a close hug, tears streaming down her face. Then she turned to me, and it was the most natural thing in the world for us to reach for each other, and in a moment I was wrapped in a hug full of warmth and sorrow and shared fear.

The engine turned off and the blades slowed, the roar slowly dying. My ears rang.

“Come, we will speak to the police, they have arrived downstairs,” Madame all but shouted.

Xavier nodded and stalked ahead. He looked broken, and terrified, and so utterly alone, and I wanted to support him.

Instead, I held out my arm for Madame, and she clasped it tightly while we followed.

Jorge held open a door to a stairwell with stucco walls and tile steps. The metal clanged closed behind us.

The sound of Xavier’s phone bleated loudly in the echo chamber of the stairwell. Ahead of us, he brought it to his ear, mid jog down the steps. “Allo.” He stopped dead, his hand reaching for the railing. His legs collapsed as he sat.

My stomach bottomed out. Oh fuck.

Beside me, Madame’s bony hand squeezed my arm like a vice. “Ô, mon Dieu, ô mon Dieu,” she wailed.

“Shhh,” I soothed. There was no way Xavier could hear anything if she cried any louder. “Shhh. Let him listen.”

We hurried down, stepping around him so we could see his face and try to get any kind of indication of what news he’d just received. Inside, I found myself chanting please be okay, please be okay.

His eyes squeezed closed as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

Madame laid a hand on his shoulder, and he grabbed it and held tight, taking the comfort. But by the rigidity in his body, I could tell that he wanted to kill whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Oui,” he said, the word wrenched from him like it cost him everything he had. Then he took the phone from his ear.

Chapter Forty-Three

“S’il te plaît,” Madame begged as the phone slipped from Xavier’s ear.

I watched as his entire body and spirit seem to collapse in on itself with … wait. Relief?

“Elle va bien,” he whispered. “She is okay. For now. Michello has her. He wants money. But he’ll be lucky if he sees blue skies ever again. Evan knows where he is. God willing, Dauphine will be home by bedtime.”

“Oh my God.” I breathed the words, my voice failing me. It wasn’t over yet, who knew how crazy this Michello person was, but knowing who had her was hopefully more than half the battle.

Madame and I embraced with relief, and then as Xavier stood, she grabbed him and wrapped her arms around his back.

I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself.