“HERE IS FINE,” I said, just outside the campsite gates.

I didn’t want them to come with me. My father parked on the roadside and put on his flashers. It wouldn’t take long. I got out and walked to the reception building. The police car wasn’t there anymore. Claire wasn’t there, either. All was calm. Maybe they’d found Oscar somewhere on the beach. For a moment I wanted to go there, to see. But I was too tired. I needed to find a policeman, a stranger, a man well acquainted with death. I’d tell him everything and then it would be over.

The woman at the reception desk was busy with paperwork. She didn’t see me as I sneaked into a corridor. I’d never been here before. It didn’t look like a vacation place. In a room with an open door, I found my policeman. He was eating grated carrots straight from the plastic packaging.

“Excuse me. I’d like to talk to you.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

I closed the door and sat facing him. He looked surprised. He ate a few more mouthfuls and then he stopped. He waited for me to speak.

“Oscar died on Friday night. I don’t know his surname, but he’s the one who disappeared. I killed him.”

He stared at me. “Don’t move.”

He was about to stand up, but just then some music came on and he froze. This is the rhythm of the night… His phone was ringing. He blushed and started rummaging around in his pockets, in his jacket, his bag. This is the rhythm of the night…

He doesn’t find it. The phone keeps ringing. A cool breeze blows through the window—or maybe it’s the ventilation system? The heatwave is over. The campsite is silent, as if everyone has already gone home. I don’t know where Luce is. Outside, a broken vending machine beeps at regular intervals. This is the rhythm of my life… The music keeps trying to make me dance.