Arsène’s face is unreadable, a blank mask. “September thirteenth.” “The thirteenth, you say?” He nods. I close my eyes, bile coating my throat. “I’m missing context here.” Arsène’s voice seeps into my body. “What’s significant about the date?” I shake my head. It’s too personal. Besides, it has nothing to do with why we’re here. “I need a minute.” I put my glass down, my drink sloshing everywhere. “Where’s the restroom?” Silently, he points me in the direction. I make my way there in a daze. I lock myself in one of the cubicles, rip my vest off my chest, stuff it into my mouth, and scream into
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