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A time to keep silence, and a time to speak

He called ho a home, someplace with a backyard, close to schools and a park And then they just chatted about their day He lay on the fa on their bed, her feet up

He could hear sleep in her voice and, reluctantly, he wished her bonne nuit, and hung up

A tiered on the receiver, and he thought about Laurent And the Lepages And what it must be like to have a child and then lose that child

Putting on his dressing gown, he went downstairs and plugged his laptop into the phone lines

He was still there when the lights went out at the bistro He was still there when Olivier and Gabri arrived back He was still there when every other home in Three Pines went dark, and every other person was asleep

Jean-Guy Beauvoir was there, his face bathed in the light fro for Only then did he lean back, stiff and weary, to stare at the naround

He placed a phone call, left a e, and then climbed the stairs and crawled under the eiderdown And slept Curled around the little stuffed lion he took with him whenever he knew he’d be away from home

A time of war, and a time of peace

"Bed and Breakfast," the singsong voice answered the phone

"Bonjour My name’s Rosenblatt Michael Rosenblatt"

"Is it about a reservation?"

"No, you called hter down the line

"I’ number This is a bed and breakfast No missiles here Not even a ured out

"Désolé," he said "Iup and checked the nu his breakfast The call thatfroarbled Soht before, and oldhalf an hour later, he picked it up and heard an unfamiliar voice

"Is this Professor Rosenblatt?" the lish with a Québécois accent

"Yes"

"My name’s Jean-Guy Beauvoir I’m an inspector with the Sûreté du Québec McGill University gave me your home number I hope you don’t mind"