He had been thinking long and hard while he drove, and he had come to a decision. If the girl woke up, he would help her disappear so she could start over. Another country, another identity, another life. Like a witness-protection program. Except that he was not about to ask the police for help. He would ask the Calabrian Mafia. They had been sniffing around him for some time, asking him to launder money. He would ask them to smuggle Vinca out of the country. By doing so, he knew he would be making a deal with the devil, but he liked the notion that life never metes out more than you can bear. Good leads to evil and evil leads to good. The story of his life.

Francis made himself a large pot of coffee, sat in an armchair, and waited. And Vinca woke up.

Then the days, the months, the years passed. Somewhere, a young woman who had left behind a blackened land was coming back into existence, as though reborn.

*  *  *

This meant that somewhere, Vinca was alive.

*  *  *

That is my version of the story. It is based on all the evidence, all the clues that I found during my investigation—the suspected ties between Francis and the Calabrian Mafia, the money transferred to New York accounts, my accidental sighting of Vinca in Manhattan.

I like to think that this story is true, even if the chances that it happened this way are one in a thousand. Given the current state of the investigation, no one could completely refute my version. It is my contribution as a novelist to the Vinca Rockwell case.

I finished writing my speech, packed up my things, and left the library. Outside, whipped up by the mistral, yellow leaves fluttered in the autumn sun. I felt good. Life does not scare me as much now. You can attack me, judge me, destroy me, but I will always have an old chewed Bic and a crumpled notebook within reach. My only weapons. As preposterous as they are powerful.

The only ones I have always been able to count on to get me through the night.

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Author’s Note

For several years now, I have wanted to write a story set on the Côte d’Azur, where I spent my childhood, and in particular around the city of Antibes, of which I have so many memories.