She walks until she reaches the edge of the Bois Chenu. But why has she come here? It takes the time to wipe snot away with her sleeve for Joan to understand. Her presence here is a plea for a wish that can never be granted. If she returns to the place of last night’s events, perhaps she can take everything back. She can keep walking and laughing with her uncle by the light of the torch, which will remain safely in his grip. And she can leave the man from Maxey to meet his fate, whatever that may be.

She stands without moving, her hands cupped under her chest to catch whatever may leak through her skin. Out of sight in a nearby tree, a lark sings; the note holds, a needle’s point of sound in a silent, sleeping world. In that sound, her grief.

There are no words—no words for this.

They have stood here before, in this precise spot on the field now nearly stripped of its harvest. Her eyes are so waterlogged and sore, it is painful to blink. The sun is setting, and grief still seeps through. Her nose drips.

When she asks how, Durand shakes his head. “Spare yourself this much,” he whispers, but she is adamant. “Tell me everything,” she demands.

So he begins: “Your father returned alone, and he was pale with anger. The fire had only singed his shirt—he was not burned. But his hands were trembling. He kept on repeating, ‘My daughter, my own daughter, a traitor.’ It seems he knew what he planned, for he did not stop moving. He lit a fire. And we—Isabelle, myself, even Jacquemin—who were all trying to calm him, asked, ‘A fire, Jacques? It is warm enough tonight without a fire. Surely none of us will catch cold. Come and sit, take some ale and a piece of bread. Or we can warm a bowl of pottage for you.’ We were pleading with him, yet you could tell he didn’t hear us. His gaze was distracted. He was still turning over the scene from the woods, and the flames he saw were not the ones in front of him, no. They were from the torch you threw at him, Joan. We watched him light his own torch with some straw, and go upstairs to where your sister was.