Mathilde thought about going home to grab her laptop and a toothbru—no. They’d already lost enough time.
She hesitated at the first red light: wait, goddammit, which station for Périgueux? Montparnasse or Austerlitz?
Okay, little emperor, you’ve been the third wheel since the beginning, so I’ll trust you all the way. They say it was your greatest tactical victory, and I’m pretty hopeless when it comes to tactics. So, Austerlitz it is.
Don’t let me down, okay?
She chained her bike to a parapet and made a dash for the ticket windows.
“One-way or round-trip?” a friendly clerk in a mauve vest asked her.
Yikes. One-way. It was already complicated enough.
“Just one-way for now, please.”
And forward-facing, if possible, for once.