Chapter 7 - The Journey Back to Auvergne
The drive from Lyon back toward the volcanic hills of the Auvergne region felt like a descent into a cold, dark valley. The autumn fog had rolled in early, thick and grey, swallowing the highway and turning the jagged peaks of the Massif Central into ominous silhouettes against the horizon.
Julien kept his eyes on the road, his hand resting on the center console, where Chloé’s hand occasionally reached out to touch his thumb. Dr. Girard had accompanied them, sitting in the passenger seat, a quiet, calming presence who spent the hours discussing light, everyday topics—the upcoming school term, the books Chloé wanted to buy, the movie they would watch when they got back to Lyon.
They didn't stay in Clermont-Ferrand. Julien had rented a small, secluded stone cottage in the countryside near Volvic, far away from the media trucks that were already circling the courthouse like crows.
The night before the deposition, the storm broke.
The wind patterns from the mountains slammed against the cottage’s slate roof, the rain lashing the windows with a violent, rhythmic intensity that sounded exactly like the metal panels Marc had installed in the old garden. Julien woke up at 2:00 a.m. to the sound of a muffled, rhythmic thumping from the spare bedroom.
He ran down the hall, pushing the door open.
Chloé wasn't in her bed. She was sitting in the corner of the closet, her knees pulled tight against her chest, her hands clamped over her ears as she rocked back and forth against the wooden floorboards. The stuffed rabbit lay abandoned on the bed.
"Chloé!" Julien gasped, dropping to his knees and crawling into the narrow space beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, but she was rigid, her skin ice-cold and slick with a terrified sweat.
"The water is rising, Daddy," she sobbed, her voice breaking into a high, desperate wail that tore through the quiet cottage.
"The black bags are floating. Marc is coming with the chain. He said if I tell the judge about the ladies, he will put you in the deep end where the film is green. Don't let him take me back to the cage, Dad! Please! I’ll be good. I’ll say I lied. I’ll tell them I was just playing hide-and-seek."
Julien held her tight, his own tears running down his face as he rocked her in the darkness of the closet. The weight of his guilt was a physical crushing force. He had ignored the missed calls for three days back in May. He had let the divorce distance him from her daily life. He had trusted Sophie when she said everything was fine.
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"Listen to me, Chijioke—no, listen to me, Chloé," Julien said, his voice raw with a fierce, protective power.
"You are not going back to that cage. I am your father, and my only job in this world is to stand between you and the monsters. If Marc wants to reach you, he has to go through me first. We are going to that court tomorrow, and we are going to bury him with the truth. You don't have to lie to save me, sweetheart. Your truth is my shield."
