He watched Kevin, waiting for recognition to sink in. On its heels was sick fear. Neil clenched his hands together under the table where no one could see his fingers shake. Kevin opened his mouth, but Neil didn't want to hear it. He didn't know what Kevin was going to say and, more importantly, he didn't know what language it would be in. Neil spoke first in quiet but strained French. "No, Kevin. Not here. You and I will talk tomorrow." Kevin hesitated. "Does Andrew know?" "He knows only pieces of it," Neil said. "He doesn't know my name." "Does he know who you are?" "I said no." Neil wrenched
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