The Swindler

PROLOGUE

Smoke.

The pungent smell of something burning startled me awake. I sat up in bed and looked around. Covering my mouth and nose with my nightgown sleeve, I scooted out of bed, slipped into slippers, and dashed over to my bay windowsill. Taking a deep breath, I brought down my arm. I opened the window and took a huge gulp of fresh air. My survival instincts kicked in, and I turned, glancing around my smokey room in a panic. As I was just about to face the window again, my purse caught my eye. I reached out and grabbed it before jumping. Landing hard, I grunted in pain. Then, I hid in a dark alcove. Afterwards, I took off running into the outdoor courtyard in the back of my family's appartement and away from the fire. After exiting the building entirely, I sped down the street a bit and looked around.

Where are my parents and older brother? Could they still be trapped inside?

I wanted to go back but knew it was risky. That was when I heard the Sapeurs Pompiers arrive. They drove over to my family's appartement and pulled up alongside it. Soon, the blaze against the summer's black sky was extinguished. Just as I was about to return, all of my family's expectations of me suddenly made me pause. Then, I heard some of the first responders talking.

"Everyone is accounted for except the daughter. She's missing. If she doesn't turn up soon, we're going to have to pronounce her dead."

I heard weeping and realised that it was my mother. Her sobs tugged at my heartstrings. I wrung my hands and bit my bottom lip. Mère...

As I was distracted, a car that I didn't see was making its way towards me. When the driver finally honked the horn, I jumped out of the way.

Now, I was down to a difficult decision. My family wanted me to go to université in the fall, but I wanted a gap year. I wasn't the smartest kid in my class, and school was always boring for me. My father was very strict towards me, an authoritarian and helicopter parent to the core. I hated it. Despised him for the caged life I had lived so far. Growing up, I had never had the freedom I so desperately longed for.

If I run now, I could be free of their expectations. But that would also mean I could never come back here. Once I'm dead, Vivienne Rousseau can never be again.

I sighed, swallowed, and made my choice. Spinning on my heels, I took off for the 10th Arrondissement, allowing my unintentional fake death to occur.

- - -

I arrived at the Gare du Nord and realised that they'd check me for identification. I didn't have anything on me, and I couldn't very well use my real name. Walking away from the station, I suddenly thought of a solution. A very dangerous solution. One that could only be found in Belleville.

I left the 10th Arrondissement and headed towards the 20th. It was a short jog away. When I entered the neighbourhood, a sensation made my stomach curl. Someone was watching me. I walked down the Rue de Belleville, avoiding the various splotches of pigeon droppings, and finally came upon the place I needed. My fist rapped against the door three times. Finally, the door opened to reveal a fit young man with shaggy, dark brown hair. He looked half-asleep, and guilt ate away at me.

"Vivienne? What are you doing here, and at this time of night? Do your parents know you're here?"

Instead of answering him, I said, "I need a favour, Ahmed. A pretty big one."

My ex-boyfriend sighed and let me in. I stepped over the threshold, and he closed the door behind me.

"Let's go into the kitchen," he said.

I nodded and followed him back. We sat down across from each other.

"What do you want, Viv?"

"I need a passport, a fake one."