How could Vanessa allow the man to touch her, knowing that what Rat said might be true, and that he’d actually rather be gladassing her son? And somehow this sight, which makes her feel physically sick, simultaneously disarms her, taking away any capacity for confrontation.

All weekend, Thierry is back in evidence. Rat sees him bringing in groceries from her mother’s van or carrying the garbage to the bins. On Sunday afternoon, she hears his high-pitched voice calling for Vesuvio. For a long time, he seems to be wandering around the mas, calling for his dog. Eventually he gives up.

When Rat gets home from school the next day, the Clio is gone.

That night, after dinner, Vanessa comes by the Cabreras. It’s the first time she’s been by since Rat moved out.

Rat stays holed up in Jérôme’s room. She hasn’t spoken to her mother, or even seen her face-to-face since the day she tried to tell Vanessa what Thierry did to Morgan, and she has no desire to. She doesn’t ever want to see her mother again.

“What did she want?” she asks, when Jérôme comes upstairs to bed.

“She wanted to use the printer.”

“What for?”

“Vesuvio’s lost. They’re putting up signs offering a reward.”

“What—a reward for the person whose car finally flattened that nasty cur? So there is justice in the world, after all.”

She’s surprised, nonetheless—Vesuvio’s not the kind of happy-go-lucky creature that goes bounding around the countryside in search of voles and rabbits—but she quickly forgets about it.

“Can we check your e-mails again, see if my dad’s answered yet?”

“Sure, but take my advice. It could be weeks before he answers, or never. If you keep checking every five minutes, you’ll drive us all nuts.”

Rat is already nuts. Seeing Thierry again feels like a tarantula down her shirtfront. If her father doesn’t answer soon, she’s just going to have to show up on his doorstep in London.

“I need to talk to you, Mo.”

Morgan is sitting at Marielle’s kitchen table. The knife is balanced on the open jar of Nutella, and his tartine is half-eaten. He is buried deep in a comic book.

The Cabreras have an entire bookshelf devoted to comic books: Astérix, Yakari, Arsène Lupin, Les Tuniques Bleues. For hours every day, you can find Morgan and Solenne sitting cross-legged on the floor by the comic-book shelf. Silent, except for the occasional giggle.

There is a smear of Nutella around Morgan’s mouth, and up by his ear. Rat reaches out with the dish towel to swab him clean.

Morgan jerks his head away and keeps reading.

“Mo? You listening to me?”

He grunts.

“We need to get out of here.”