Above the mattresses, some numbers were written on the wall. They looked like a phone number. Scratches on the parquet floor bore witness to furniture that had once been there, and was dragged away.

For a second she thought Bruno would shout from the other room that they’d just moved in. Although in any case that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, and it wouldn’t explain the apartment’s enigmatic precariousness. Despite the lack of personal expression, and the fact that there wasn’t a single object that would give a clue about the person or people who inhabited the space, she got the feeling they had lived there for a long time. An intense, warm smell of daily routine seemed to confirm her suspicion—the space seemed intentionally sparse. There was something premeditated about the emptiness, and that—the choice of absence—surprised her all the more. Ultimately, it said as much about him as if the apartment had been full of collectible comic book figurines.

Bruno appeared holding a bowl of Cocoa Puffs floating in milk in one hand, a bottle of red wine and two glasses in the other. He called to the little girl. She came running in from another room, took the bowl, and disappeared again. When Claudia heard a door close she felt the regret return—once again she hadn’t been able to observe the girl’s face closely, decipher her features. Although now it wasn’t the similarity with her father that made her uneasy. She wanted to look for traces of the mother. Because there must be one, she told herself. Somewhere, a woman existed who had that little girl’s features. Where?

Bruno offered her one of the mattresses to sit on. He brought a stool over, put the glasses on it, and poured the wine. When she drank at her house she used cups; she knew nothing about wines, and neither the bottle nor the vineyard gave her any clue as to this one’s quality. She still wouldn’t know after tasting it. He sat down on the other mattress and took one of the glasses, rested his head against the wall, and waited for her to pick the other one up and toast.

“To chance meetings,” said Bruno.

They took the first sips in silence. He asked her for a cigarette. She took out two and they smoked, also without speaking. She could hear a woman’s voice somewhere saying, “Of course, of course, yes, of course.” Her voice was emphatic and she must have been talking on the phone, because there was no reply.