Before his eyes, the Opera Populaire towered over the street, bathed in the midday sun. He had not been able to visit it, not after that night. Rebuilding and alterations were still being carried out, perhaps they were finishing the last touches before the new season's opening. And yet, the parts of the building that had been destroyed by the fire could still be distinguished clearly. A fire caused by no other than him. Ironic, wasn' it, watching the result of the damage and fear caused by oneself?
Would she be there? Could she really be so near that he could enter in that precise moment and bring her out, back to him again? No, she would probably not be there, and even if she were, he wouldn't consider saving her. Not this time. He had done enough by saving himself from the desolation and suffering through all those months due to her leaving.
He raised slightly his fedora, focusing his gaze again in the place that had practically been his home and shelter through most of his life. Home, shelter and undoing, at the same time.
With a sigh and adjusting the scarf Angie had knitted so devotedly, he left. But what he did not know was that a person had seen him from the entrance to her small apartment. Her daughter was right. He survived.
'Are you sure it is her?', asked Emma, a bit uncertain.
Marie's lips curved in an ironic smile. 'Are you blind? They gave us her description and it matches that girl's. She could be no other than the one we are looking for'.
The other woman nodded, convinced at last. 'Then, we must hand her over...'.
'That is not in our hands, my dear friend. They are the ones who have the last word in this matter'.
After this last statement, which left no place to further the discussion, the two women came out to the corridor, where they could watch Christine carefully. The girl was finishing cleaning one of the nearest rooms. Only once they had left, Christine came out of the room with a worried grimace.
She had to leave that dump. As soon as possible. But she already knew that was impossible at the time.
Xxx
The house was in complete silence. She had locked away everything related to his job and placed his stationery once more on his desk, just as he had ordered.
She could not erase from her mind the visions of his weakest moment. Seeing him so throughly broken made her want to break the person who had brought so much pain to his precious soul. Who, in God's name, had left him so lost in agony? Who had left him with so many memories and so much grief that made him think that death was the only way to escape them?
She shook her head, as if that could dissipate those horrible thoughts from her mind so that she reassumed her routine. However, he was there, silent, leaning on the doorframe and wearing that omniscient look, for he seemed to have been reading all her inner thoughts. Was she under her stupid delusions again or had he really took off the scarf she had knitted herself?