I didn’t miss the irony in her question.Iwas supposed to be the parent.The one checking in on her—but at the glow on her face, nothing else mattered.
“I’m fine. But it was a close thing.” I raised one eyebrow and shook my head in mock horror. “I forget how forthright your mother can be. She’s terrifying.”
Sophie giggled, but then her smile dropped. “She seemed mad.”
“She was a little cross, but not because of anything you’ve done. She was mad at me.” I shifted closer to Sophie. “Mainly about your essay and how I’d been little use.” I softened my voice. “And she found Chloe’s notes.”
Her eyes widened. A prickle ran down my spine.
“I was going to change Chloe’s words before I handed it in.”
I settled back on her cushions. She obviously knew how Chloe had struggled. “You were?”
Sophie nodded. “She tried to help, but I could tell she found it hard. I didn’t want to make her feel bad, so I didn’t say anything.”
I shifted on the mattress, an ache settling under my ribs. Even at twelve, my daughter was more observant than me—and far kinder than her mother.
“Not even to me?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to get her in trouble.”
That she thought I’d be angry twisted my insides into a knot. “When did you know?”
“About her reading and writing? I thought it was weird that she never opened a book. One morning at the club, Fifi read horoscopes for the staff. She had to deal with a delivery, so she asked Chloe to take over.” Sophie smiled, not unkindly. “Chloe found a million excuses not to read. She said something about the horoscopes being in French. But it was an English newspaper left behind by a tourist.”
Sophie leaned over and ran her fingers over Bean’s exposed belly. “I knew for certain when I checked the notebook I’d given her. We’d talked about my essay, and she had so many wonderful suggestions.” Sophie met my eyes, her little chin firmly set. “Chloe is really smart. But when I read her notes, I could tell something was different. I didn’t say anything, though. Despite what Maman thinks, I can write the essaymyself. But I didn’t want Chloe to think I wasn’t grateful, so I just said thank you.”
I swallowed. Though Sophie was only nudging thirteen years old, she was more mature than most adults. I leaned in and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
“Where’s Maman?” she asked, her gaze drifting to the door.
I sighed. “I told her to go down to the club and bother Fifi for more coffee.”
Sophie sat up. “But won’t Chloe be down there doing her pictures?”
I shook my head. “I checked before I sent her down. Fifi will make sure the two of them don’t meet.” I took a breath. “But your Maman is staying in Nice for a couple of days visiting friends.”
“Didn’t she want to stay here?”
Not if I had anything to do with it.
“No. With Chloe in the annex, she preferred the idea of a comfortable hotel to camping on your floor.”
Sophie chuckled.
“I also told her I wasn’t ready to send you back to Paris yet.”
Sophie lifted her brows. “You did?”
I nodded. “This summer has been different. Special. I feel like we’ve finally got to know each other. It seems a shame to break up the party so soon. What do you think?”
The grin on her face was all I could ask for. But when she threw her arms around my neck, saying, “Je t’aime, Papa,” it felt like my heart had grown too big for my body. She hadn’t said she loved me for years. When she finally let me go, I tucked her under my arm. “Your mother does have one demand, though.”
“Just one?”
I laughed. “She insists you complete your assignment while you’re here—withhelp.”
Sophie eye-rolled. “I told you, I’m fine doing it by myself.”
