“You’re leaving?” he said, in French. He took his glasses off and sat back, looking at her. “Where are you going?” “A friend’s,” she said. “Liar,” he said. “Correct,” she said. “I have no friends. Call him a protector.” He smiled. “An efficacious solution to all of your problems,” he said. “If, however, a more carnal one than I’d hoped. But I shouldn’t be surprised. You grew up with my mother, after all.”
