Eugenie filled my thoughts when we entered Pérignac. I had remembered the road in great detail, anticipating each ripple of the overheated asphalt until the first buildings with limestone walls. The main street was deserted at this hour when the slate roofs shone with a blazing sun.
- We're early. We could walk to school first, I suggested to Clara.
She parked alongside the church, then we walked down the street for about two hundred yards. The surrounding blaze harassed our every step, but walking seemed to me at that moment a better refuge than the air conditioning in the car.
Story: Find the words
In mid-July, the playground was as empty as it was silent, but I couldn't help imagining Eugenie there immersed in the whirlwind of games and laughter. A bicycle rack was leaned against the courtyard. It was there that she had to pick up her little red ATV every evening. Until that day ...
The time to go to Eugenie's parents arrived.
Élodie and Maxime Breuil were waiting for us in front of their house, at the exit of the village. In two years, the claws of sorrow had harshly extended their hold on their faces. I introduced them to Clara. An embarrassing silence began to settle as the voice of a teenager rose behind us.
- Go, leave us alone, we have nothing more to tell you than at the trial. I don't know what you are looking for, but the answers are not here.
He disappeared into the house as quickly as he had appeared.
- Lucas isn't ready yet, Elodie tells us. He may never be ... We'll show you Eugenie's room. It remained as it was.
We followed them down an L-shaped hallway to the end of the house. The rooms were plunged into darkness. To protect them from the heat wave. Perhaps. As we progressed, a feeling of awkwardness weighed on my shoulders more and more unpleasantly.
Story: Find the words
The cocoon of an eight-year-old girl then presented itself to my eyes. I understood that I had no place there, that I was desecrating a sacred place. Guardians of the temple, the soft toys perched on the pillows stared at me with their fixed eyes, faithful confidants of Eugenie's joys, sorrows and dreams.
- Thanks again, I whispered. We would like to visit him now, if you still agree.
The small cemetery was perched on the heights of the village. We reached a pink marble tomb, lined with a down of multicolored bouquets and children's drawings. In the center, in a photo frame, Eugenie observed us with a mischievous smile.
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I couldn't say if it was that smile or the oppressive heat that got the better of my strength. My legs buckled under me and I found myself kneeling in front of the tombstone. I tried to make a sound, but only the tears wanted to flow.
A hand rested on my shoulder.
"Talk to him, you came for that," Clara whispered to me.
An eternity passed.
- I'm here to beg your forgiveness Eugenie, I finish by articulating. I've asked your parents and your older brother before, but never yet to you. I have come to ask your forgiveness for the unforgivable. I have come to ask your forgiveness for seeing you too late in this street, here in your village. Today I also wanted to know you better, because since that day and forever, there is not a moment when I do not think of you.
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