The sun rose over Paris, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, as Amélie and Luisa awoke to the familiar scent of lavender lingering in the air. The bustling sounds of the city filtered through the windows, a symphony of life, filling them with a mix of anticipation and unease. Today was the day they would meet Victor, the man who might hold the key to her father's whereabouts.
After a quick breakfast with Marie, the three of them set off through the lively streets. The marketplace was already bustling with vendors hawking their goods, laughter mixing with the rustle of bags and the occasional whinny of horses.
"Are you ready?" Gabriel asked, glancing at Luisa with a reassuring smile. A flicker of amusement crossed Amélie's mind as she noticed the faint blush on Luisa's cheeks, which only confirmed her suspicions.
"I think so," Luisa replied, her heart racing. "I just hope Victor can help us."
They arrived at a small tavern, dimly lit on the edge of a busy square. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and beer, and the hum of conversations filled the room. Amélie's heart pounded as they approached an elderly man sitting in the corner, his face partially hidden in shadow.
"Are you Victor?" Gabriel called out, and the man lifted his head, sharp eyes locking on them with an unfriendly expression.
"You're Gabriel, right?" Victor asked, his gaze shifting toward Amélie and Luisa. His voice was low and raspy. "And these must be the young women old Jacque and Henri mentioned."
Luisa nodded and stepped forward. "We're looking for information about our father."
Victor's face remained impassive, his eyes dropping as he fell into silent thought. Amélie exchanged a look with Luisa, both unsure and uneasy, while Gabriel fidgeted beside them.
"Victor, you…" Gabriel began, trying to cut through the tavern's noise, but Victor raised a hand, silencing him.
"All right… no need to say more. I know."
Amélie took a deep breath, her heart racing. "I need to know why he's been absent from my life all these years."
Victor studied her for a moment, and Amélie felt a strange connection forming. There was something in his gaze—an understanding, perhaps—that made her believe he could help. Slowly, he spoke, taking out a cigarette and tapping it against the table. "But this isn't a safe topic for public discussion. Meet me tonight at my place—it's a small apartment near the old bridge by the Seine. We need to be wary of eavesdroppers."
As they prepared to leave, Victor added, "Be careful. There are those who will take advantage of your search. Paris isn't always kind to lost souls."
Amélie nodded, her stomach knotting with a cocktail of fear and resolve. "Thank you. We'll be there."
As they stepped back into the sunlight, Luisa gently squeezed Amélie's arm. "This is it! We've taken another step forward."
"But what did he mean by 'not a safe topic'?" Amélie wondered aloud, anxiety creeping back into her thoughts. Luisa glanced at Amélie, stifling a sigh as she thought to herself that it seemed Amélie had forgotten that they were of German descent, constantly facing disdain and rejection wherever they went.
"Whatever it is, we'll face it together," Luisa responded, her voice firm and determined. "We've come too far to turn back now."
The day passed slowly as they prepared for the evening meeting. The vibrant streets of Paris dimmed as dusk fell, city lights twinkling like stars against the darkening sky. Amélie's heart beat faster, anticipation mingling with unease as they made their way toward the bridge.
The Seine sparkled under the moonlight, casting a silvery glow over the water. Finding Victor's home wasn't difficult—a small, weathered house with windows facing the tranquil river. A tense atmosphere hung over them as they stood before his door. Gabriel's presence now gave the young women a sense of security, a steady force amid the unknown.
"Do you think he'll actually meet us?" Luisa asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't worry," Gabriel replied, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. "He's not one to break his word."
Gabriel knocked on the door, and after a moment, Victor appeared behind the wooden frame. A sliver of light from inside cast shadows onto the quiet street. "Come in quickly," he said in a low voice.
As the three of them stepped into Victor's small house, the dimly lit interior gradually came into view. The room was sparsely furnished, with worn wooden furniture, and a single electric lamp casting soft, flickering shadows across the walls. Shelves lined with dusty books and old trinkets hinted at a life marked by secrets and unspoken stories. The air was thick, imbued with the scent of aged wood and lingering tobacco smoke, adding a heavy, almost oppressive atmosphere to the space.
Victor, now standing fully in the light, was a man whose face bore the marks of time and experience. Deep lines creased his weathered skin, and his sharp, calculating eyes were framed by thick brows that had long since turned grey. His hair, once dark, was now silver, cropped short around his ears. Though his body seemed frail, his gaze held an intensity, as if he had witnessed more than he cared to share.
They seated themselves in the modest living room, Gabriel taking a protective stance near the door while Amélie and Luisa sat nervously across from Victor. He settled into an old armchair, his movements slow but deliberate, lighting a cigarette before speaking. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze fixed on the two young women.
"So," Victor began, his voice gravelly yet composed, "what do you know about your father?"
Luisa, feeling the weight of the moment, reached into her bag and pulled out a faded photograph with trembling fingers. "This is all I have," she said, handing it to Victor.
Victor took the photograph with care, bringing it close to his eyes. He studied it, his brow furrowing as he observed the image of a young man in a German military uniform. The man wore a soft, gentle smile, one that seemed at odds with the harshness of his attire. Though time had worn the photo down, fraying the edges and obscuring details, the kindness in the man's expression remained.
Victor flipped the photo over, expecting to find some sort of note or clue. But it was blank, worn smooth by years of handling. He turned it over again and stared at the young soldier's face. Then, suddenly, his eyes narrowed, and he brought the photo even closer, holding it near his face. His fingers traced the bottom-left corner of the photo, moving cautiously as if he had uncovered something.
"There," he muttered, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. He set the photo down gently on the table and shifted his attention to Amélie. "Now, let me see your clue."
Amélie, who had remained silent up to this point, slowly unclasped the delicate necklace from around her neck. She handed the locket to Victor, who took it in his rough, calloused hands. He traced the intricate design etched into the metal, examining it closely. The engraving was worn, but the craftsmanship was unmistakable. His fingers lingered over the faint emblem.
After a long pause, Victor set the locket beside the photo and leaned back in his chair. His eyes, filled with a mixture of contemplation and something resembling pity, drifted between the two young women.
"I was a soldier once," he said quietly. "I fought in the war. I've been to Germany, and I know that land well. What you're searching for… it's not here in France. If you want to find your father, you'll need to go to Cologne."
"Cologne?" Luisa echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Victor nodded. "Look at the photo closely. The young man—your father—he was standing near a landmark, one that I remember well. That spire in the background, faint though it may be, is the Cologne Cathedral. I passed through that city during the war. There's no mistaking it, despite the wear and tear on this image."
Amélie and Luisa leaned in, their hearts sinking as they recognized the faint outline of the grand cathedral in the corner of the faded image.
"And the locket?" Amélie asked, her voice trembling with both hope and fear.
Victor hesitated for a moment before answering. "The locket… it's a family crest, likely from a noble house in Germany. It's not just a trinket. Whoever gave it to you wanted you to understand something important. It might be connected to your father's lineage, but I don't know enough to be certain."
A heavy silence filled the room as Victor's words sank in. He sighed deeply, his face softening with regret.
"I wish I could do more," he admitted. "But what you're asking of me is beyond my reach now. Your journey—to find the truth—it's dangerous. Germany, especially Cologne, is a long and treacherous road. It's not just the distance; it's the cost, the risks. You two would be stepping into a world that may not welcome you."
Amélie and Luisa exchanged glances, their minds racing. The road ahead suddenly felt more daunting than ever.
Victor leaned forward, his eyes serious. "Think carefully before you continue. Paris may be tough, but where you're heading… it's something else entirely. If you decide to go, be prepared for the worst. I can't take you any further."
Amélie nodded slowly. "Thank you. You've helped us more than you know."
With those words, the conversation ended. The gravity of their quest hung in the air as they rose to leave.
As they walked back to Marie's house, the streets of Paris seemed unusually quiet, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Amélie and Luisa moved in silence, their thoughts consumed by the overwhelming task that lay ahead. Gabriel walked beside them, his protective presence like a steady shadow. He glanced at the two young women, their faces downcast, and suppressed a sigh, sensing the weight of the burden they now carried.
The journey to uncover the truth about their father had truly just begun.