Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. The late afternoon, en effet. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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