the cashier who had just opened the automatic door and listened to our conversation.
Marc took out his phone.
— I’m going to call the police. You can’t just leave someone like that in a rest area, especially in this heat.
I grabbed his sleeve with a force that surprised even myself.
— No! Please, no.
He fixed his gaze on me, serious.
— What Madame Dubois did is very serious. We can’t…
“She’s my daughter,” I interrupted. “I don’t want her to get into any trouble. I just want to go home. That’s all.”
He put away his phone, annoyed but respectful.
— Are you sure?
I nodded, my eyes misting over.
He glanced at his motorcycle, then at my cane, my thin legs, my handbag. It was clear he was thinking very fast.
“I can’t leave you here,” he said.
