Too Late For Regret, Mr. Carlson

smelling of roasted beans. Alexia sat in the back c

. He looked like a softer, kinder version of h

face fell. "Jesus, Alexia.

e said. "But I'm not

messenger bag and pulled out a key car

ows you're comi

ze. "You t

e Pierre. He's furious, Alexia. He said

her. The only family she had left. He was old, frail, an

able. "Go to the estate. The safe

day," she

band, Alexia, but he's an idiot. He thi

e estate was nothing like the Carlson modern gla

parents died, opened the door. She didn't say a word. She just

library, sitting in his

m sorry," she sobbed. "I tri

You tried to love a stone, child. Stones

the bookshel

isto-and the panel slid open. The safe sat there,

r click

aused. Her passport. Her birth certific

college. The one Jensen said was "cute" but "not commercially viable."

ook i

card. It was bla

" he said. "It's not much compared to Carlson mo

," Alexi

s war, Alexia. You don't go to war without ammuni

ard. It felt cold

. She stood up, feeling lighter, even though t

The sun was setting, casting

pped a picture of the passport,

t it to

th

ater, Clar

wti