Page 132 (2/2)

The sirens stop I hear a door opening, I feel water onof my body I sense it is better to keepI want to witness

But then ht, harsh and painful, like the ti at a solar eclipse Saba warned s are impossible to tear yourself away froraine That’s what they called it on the news Lots of people got the at the sun I know that, too But I still don’t knohere I am

There are voices now, as if echoing out from a tunnel I can hear the

“Coe I know is not mine but that I somehow understand What is your name?

“Can you tell us your nae, also not my own

“Willem de Ruiter” This time it’s my voice My name

“Good” It is a e French It says that I got ht, and I wonder how it is he knows this For a second I think it is Bra, but even as muddled as I am, I realize this is not possible Bram never did learn French

“Wille to sit you up now”

The back of my bed—I think I’ain Everything is blurry, but I can hts overhead, scuffed walls, a metal table

“Willem, you are in the hospital,” the man says

Yes, I was just sussing that part out It would also explaincovered in blood, if not the shirt itself, which is notWhat does SOS mean? Whose shirt is this? And whose blood is on it?

I look around I see theout an ice compress for me to take I touch er comes aith more blood That answers one question

“You are in Paris,” the doctor says “Do you knohere Paris is?”

I aueil with Yael and Bra the hat after a perfor, sweaty, at a Mollier Than Molly show at Divan du Monde with Céline And I’irl’s hand in mine

Which girl?