‘I’ll call you every day,’ he said, lifting her light case from the bed. ‘We need to stick together.’ He smiled and cocked his head toward the cacophony that was the living room as the relatives shouted at each other from entrenched positions. ‘I’m proud of you, Yvette, and I know you’ll do well. You have to.’

‘Yes, sir.’

None of the fucking relatives lifted their heads as she left, her father carrying her case to the car and putting it in the trunk. ‘In case there’s a crash, it won’t hit you on the head.’

He hugged her and whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t mess up.’

And now she approached Three Pines. At the top of du Moulin she slowed, her car skidding slightly to the side on the slippery road. Below her the village glowed, the lights off the tall trees reflected red and green and blue on the snow and the ice, like a giant stained glass window. She could see figures moving back and forth in front of the windows of the shops and homes.

A feeling roiled in her chest. Was it anxiety? Resentment perhaps about leaving her own warm home to come here? No. She sat in the car for a few minutes, her shoulders slowly sagging from up round her ears and her breath coming in long, even puffs. Trying to identify this strange feeling. Then, knitting her brows together and staring out the windshield at the cheery little village, she suddenly knew what she was feeling.

Relief. Was this what it felt like to let the weight down, the guard down?

Her cell phone rang. She hesitated, knowing who it was, and not wanting to leave her last thought.

‘Oui, bonjour. Yes sir, I’m in Three Pines. I’ll be polite. I’ll win him over. I know how important this is. I won’t mess up,’ she said in response to his warning.

She hung up and took her foot off the brake. Her car glided into the village and came to a stop in front of the B. & B.

Eleanor and Henry were going at it hammer and tongs. Their sons were fracturing, turning on each other and their parents. Each character was exploding, sending shards into each other. It was devastating and brilliant. By the end Gamache looked down, surprised to see his plate empty. He didn’t remember eating. He didn’t remember breathing.

But he did know one thing. Given a choice, Eleanor and Henry would be the last people on earth he’d want as parents. Gamache sat staring at the closing credits, wondering what he’d missed, because he’d surely missed something. There was a reason CC had the tape and a reason she’d taken the name de Poitiers, and presumably a reason she’d thrown out a perfectly good video. This tape was found in her garbage. Why?