Phoenix is standing out front with Bea when we pull up to the building. The little girl, clothed in a slightly more casual blue dress today, hops up and down excitedly as the driver opens my door. As soon as my feet hit the cobblestone street, Bea comes running toward me as if we’re old friends reunited. It tugs at my heart to see how quickly she’s latched on to me. “Camille!” she squeals as she throws her arms around my legs. “Bonjour, Bea,” I say as I lean down and give her a proper hug.
