CHAPTER 39: THE HANGMAN AND THE FIRE
The smell of soup was rich in the air and she could feel the warmth from the fire on her skin.
The lie was perfect, she thought.
There sat Doctor Toureil at the kitchen table, so perfect in every detail that she felt the urge to run into his arms and kiss his cheek. One thing that curtailed this impulse, by his right elbow was an open box displaying a small syringe and a vial of green liquid. How had Mabus captured the exact way he would purse his lips and close his eyes when he raised the spoon of soup to his lips?
“Hello, Marie.” said her father, turning around from the stove.
“Papa.” she said quietly.
She closed her eyes as he bent down to kiss her forehead.
It would be so, so easy.