Her smile was a Mona Lisa thing, fuzzy at the edges and hinting as something naughty. She rarely spoke but often stared, and it was this staring that ...riginally caught my attention. We had an English class together, and because she couldn’t keep her eyes off of me, I couldn’t keep mine off of her.Our affair was brief but intense. We were eighteen, and these were days of cutting class and going back to our parents’ empty houses to fuck in the simple, clean manner of b**sts. She was so innocent. “Until Friday, sir. Until Friday, Henry.”Henry nodded but did not speak.“You will come with me, Amélie, no? I cannot bear to speak with this man alone. Not when this is about my son.”Amélie leaned close to Sandrine and hugged her tight. Kissed her cheek. “Of course, Sandrine. Friday.”The two women presented themselves on Friday to a cautious reception by mother, father and Henry. The latter remained silent throughout the visit, but Sandrine watched him carefully and saw he’d missed. More

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