The Lesson (English version)

Prologue

PROLOGUE
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DECEMBER 2018

"When did you realize that your relationship went beyond that of teacher and student?"

The detective looks at me as if he has all the time in the world. A heavy silence hangs in his cold office. The kind that comes from someone waiting for you to break down.

He can wait a long time.

"Never. As I've already explained, Adriane was just one student among many."

"She isn't anymore?"

I immediately wipe my sweaty palms against my pants.

"She is. I'm just... tired."

"I understand, Ms. Cartier. But we're not done yet."

The officer runs a hand over his mustache. He told me his rank at the start of my police custody: Adjutant Paul Korvitz. I don't know what he wants from me. A confession? A slip of the tongue? Fine. All he's getting from me is a question.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Of course. First, remind me of the context of your meeting."

I've watched enough episodes of NCIS to know I'm entitled to a public defender (a late one, apparently). And the right to remain silent. But that's U.S. law. And those shows are mostly fiction.

This is my life we're talking about.

Staying silent would look suspicious. And besides... What difference would it make?

"I teach English at Darnelay High School. I'm the homeroom teacher for the senior English track class."

"How are your classes going?"

"Pretty well."

"Are they good students?"

"Average. I mean, the overall level is dropping, but... it's the same everywhere. I don't see the connection. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. I'm just gauging the situation. Are you still thirsty?"

I nod. Korvitz hands me a plastic cup. The ice-cold water burns my throat. I drink too quickly.

"If I asked you to describe Adriane in three words," he asks. "Which ones would come to mind right away?"

"Mature. Intelligent. Discreet."

"Mature?"

"Intellectually."

"You didn't have to think long to answer. I take it you knew each other well?"

"I answered honestly. Is that a problem?"

"No," he pauses. "But sleeping with your seventeen-year-old student is."

I almost choke. Four hours in police custody. His voice, the cold office... This is too much.

"Are you out of your mind? We never had—"

"You often speak of her in the past tense. Is there something you'd like to tell us, Ms. Cartier?"

"What are you implying?"

"Five years in prison. A seventy-five-thousand-euro fine. Were you aware of the risks?"

My head is spinning. I slump back in the metal chair. I want to disappear under his desk. Just close my eyes, wake up, forget this gloomy place, this white light, this smell of rancid antiseptic.

"Listen... I agreed to answer without a lawyer because I have nothing to hide. But if you keep talking nonsense, I'm not saying another word."

"That's your right," Korvitz concedes. "But perhaps not in your best interest."

"I've already told you. Adriane is my student. Nothing more."

"Nothing more," he repeats calmly. "If I question your colleagues, will they confirm that?"

"Of course."

"So there's no material evidence to the contrary?"

"I told you there isn't. How many times—"

He sets an iPhone down in front of me. Arctic wolf case. Sky blue. Shattered screen. Adriane's phone.

"Kids these days and their phones..." he sighs. "Have you heard of Dream? The social media platform where they share everything. My daughter loves it. Adriane used it, too. And she kept a diary."

A chill runs through me. I didn't know that.

"We read it as part of the investigation. So if I tell you that its contents implicate you, will you stick to your story?"

I can't think straight anymore. A ringing fills my ears. I have to say something. Now.

"Ms. Cartier, do you remember why you're in custody?"

"You think I had an affair with Adriane. Why are you insisting on this?"

"Adriane is missing."

My breath catches.

Missing?

He's watching me. Intently. He's gauging my panic, dissecting it. It's not hard to guess what he's thinking: would I have reacted the same way if it were another student? I want to scream that yes, I would! Anyone would have. Not just me.

"Didn't it worry you that she wasn't in class all week?"

"No. I mean... she does miss school sometimes. Because of her asthma. So I didn't—" My voice trails off. It trembles when I speak. "Wait. You think I have something to do with her disappearance?"

"I think you're in a very serious situation. This isn't just a case of a minor's abduction. It involves allegations of sexual assault against a minor over the age of fifteen by a person in a position of authority. There's also the disappearance, and a possible lead suggesting a kidnapping."

He barely waits for me to process the information.

"For now, everything points back to you."

The world warps around me. Ice floods my veins. I can barely hear my own breathing.

Me? Kidnapping? Murder, next? How far will this go? I'm paralyzed. Korvitz leans toward me, as if to share a secret.

"I think I know what happened. But I need your full account to move forward. Are you ready to tell the truth?"

I want to scream. Or to stay silent forever. I don't know anymore.

"I'm already cooperating—"

My voice breaks. Again. Exactly what he was waiting for.

"Very well," he says, turning toward his computer screen. "We'll start from the beginning. From the moment you met... up until today."

The clacking of the keys settles in.
Steady. Inevitable.

"It is 6:12 p.m. Interview of Laura Cartier begins."