Evette turned off the car and stared at the gates. It had only been two days since she had left the château, but it had felt like an eternity. She opened the car door and walked over to the gatehouse; the door was unlocked. The pushed the door open and walked over to the computer that managed the gates. She logged onto the “guest” user, and clicked the large green button which read, “open.” The gates slowly opened and Evette returned to the Bentley. She started it once more and drove up the unlit path. Evette drove around the fountain and parked the car in front of the château. She got out of the car, her heels crunched under the gravel. She grabbed the key out of her purse and unlocked the door.
“Home, sweet home.” Evette said to herself, turning on the lights.
As she walked past the small table that held a vase, Evette noticed there was yet another letter sitting on the table. This one was from the Chief of Police. Evette walked over to it slowly, and picked it up. She removed the Parisian Police symbol and took out the letter itself.
“Dear Evette Dupont,
It is with deepest regrets that I write you this letter. Your parents were greatly appreciated within the Parisian Police Department, as their countless donations helped us tremendously. We have removed their bodies from the house, so assuming that you are reading this now, the château will be liveable. None of you, or your parents’ personal objects have been touched, only your parents bodies. If you choose to not come in for questioning, we will understand, though it is not normally procedure. Again, we are thinking of you in this time of need, and if you need anything, we are only a call away.
- Monsieur Redmont, Chief of the National Police, Parisian Branch.”
Evette sat the letter down on the table and walked upstairs. She had almost no energy to even make it up the stairs. She opened her bedroom doors and fell onto her bed. Evette closed her eyes and refused to open them until it was day out. Evette dreamed of when her life was different, when her parents still were alive and everything made sense. So much had changed in her life in the brief two weeks that she had been back in Paris. Evette did, however, accept the inevitable fact that even if she weren’t in Paris, her parents would have most likely still died.
Evette turned over in her bed and looked at the alarm clock, it was already one o’clock. Evette got out of bed, somehow feelings refreshed and walked into her closet. She grabbed her four largest suitcases and started packing a small portion of her extensive closet. Three suitcases went to suits, dresses, and casual clothes, and the final suitcase went to her shoes, Evette moved to large suitcases to the foot of her room, staring out at the hallway.
Evette walked back into her closet and took off what she was wearing last night. She looked at the remaining clothes and grabbed a medium length black dress and a gold belt. She slipped it on and grabbed one of her many diamond necklaces and rings. She grabbed a pair of Prada heels and slipped those on, then returning to her bedroom.
“Madame Dupont?” A Romanian lady said, quickly scuffling toward Evette.
“Oui?” Evette said, pushing the suitcases down the hallway.
“No, no. Let me help you.” The Romanian lady said, picking up two of the bags, “Forgive us, we were not expecting you back so soon.”
“Well, I figured I needed a small vacation, so I came back. I’m more shocked that all of you are here after all that happened.” Evette said, grabbing the other two bags.
“What will you want us to do with the château while you are gone?” The Romanian lady asked politely.
“Just keep it looking nice, that’s all I ask. The gardeners will continue trimming the shrubs and keeping the fountain clean, and I just want it dusted four times a week. That’s all.” Evette said, grabbing her sunglasses out of her purse.
“Very well, Madame Dupont. If I may ask, where are you going to?” The Romanian lady asked, as the two walked down the stairs.
“I’m thinking about returning to Los Angeles. It’s a beautiful city, and it’s quite warm. I have friends out there, so I won’t be alone.” Evette said, smiling at the thought.
“Enjoy yourself, Madame Dupont.” The Romanian said, sitting the bags down and went to open the door for Evette.
“Evette, call me Evette.” Evette said, smiling at the little old Romanian lady.
“Very well, Evette.” The Romanian said, returning the smile.
The two put the four suitcases in the back of the Bentley. Evette waved at the Romanian and started the car. She put it in drive, and drove slowly around the fountain. Evette looked up in her rearview mirror, watching as the château diminished into the background. The gateman gave her a nod a smile, and she was off. She pulled out her phone and pulled up Christian’s number.
“Returning to L.A. -E”
“Because I want to see the Pier. -E”
Evette turned onto the N104 and drove through the traffic. She stopped caring after the Bentley hit 160. She swerved in and out of traffic, watching the road signs carefully. When she got closer to CDG, she called her pilot.
“Bonjour monsieur. I need you to get the jet ready for take off within the next three hours. I’ll be in a silver Bentley, inform airport security to let me straight through.” Evette said, then hanging up.
Evette got off, arriving at CDG. She drove past all the cars and drove right up to the gate. She grabbed her ID and handed it to the guard. He nodded and Evette drove to her hangar. She parked next to her jet and got out. She got out of the car slowly, and handed the keys to her vallet. She sat the four suitcases on the concrete floor, and watched as the Bentley drove away. She handed the bags to the pilot and he put them onto the jet. Evette turned and looked at what little view of Paris she had one last time. Evette had a brief smile on her face, and walked up the steps of the jet. She sat on the beige leather seat and lit up a cigarette. She heard the engines begin to roar as they pulled out of the hangar.
“Dupont 151, you are clear for take-off.” Evette heard from the intercom.
Evette sat back, and watched as the runway became a blur, and soon, she was over Paris. She watched as her once beloved city became nothing more than a faint memory. Large white clouds covered the city wholly, and finally, she was gone.