Chapter 32
The Unexpected Reader
The rhythm of edits and writing continued, a peaceful, productive cadence. One rainy Thursday afternoon, the library was particularly quiet. The only patrons were a student dozing in an armchair and an elderly gentleman methodically working his way through the newspaper.
The bell on the door jingled, and a young woman entered, shaking water from her umbrella. She had an earnest, intelligent face and a large, stylish tote bag slung over her shoulder. She browsed for a while, then approached the counter where élise was working.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, her voice friendly. “This might sound strange, but I’m a literary scout for a film production company. I heard a rumor… is it true that Luc Valois writes here?”
élise’s heart did a little flip. The outside world was starting to knock on their door. She kept her expression professionally neutral. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss the habits of our patrons,” she said politely.
The woman, whose name was Chloé, smiled understandingly.
“Of course. I respect that. It’s just… his book, Les Oubliettes du Silence…
the manuscript is making rounds. It’s creating a real buzz.
My boss thinks it has a stunning visual potential.
” She lowered her voice. “We’d love to get an early look, to consider it for adaptation. ”
Just then, Luc emerged from the history aisle, a reference book in his hand. He froze when he saw Chloé speaking with élise.
Chloé, following élise’s gaze, turned. Her eyes widened in recognition. “Monsieur Valois? Chloé Leroy. I was just telling the librarian here how much we admire your work.”
Luc approached the counter, his expression a mixture of caution and curiosity. He stood close to élise, a silent show of solidarity. “Thank you,” he said, his tone guarded. “It’s not even published yet.”
“That’s the best time to find these gems,” Chloé said enthusiastically. “Before the bidding wars start. The sense of atmosphere, the visual architecture of your prose… it’s cinematic.”
Luc glanced at élise, a silent conversation passing between them. This was her world, the world of stories, reaching out to pull him in.
“I have an agent,” he said, turning back to Chloé. “Sophie Mercier. All inquiries should go through her.”
“Understood,” Chloé said, handing him her business card. “But I’m glad I caught you. Sometimes, it’s nice for a creator to hear it directly from a reader. It’s a magnificent book.” Her eyes flickered to élise. “And the dedication… it’s hauntingly beautiful.”
With a final, appreciative glance around the library, Chloé left, the bell jingling softly behind her.
The silence she left was different from the one Camille had poisoned. This silence was electric with possibility.
Luc looked down at the business card in his hand, then at élise. “A film scout,” he said, disbelief colouring his voice.
“They see it,” élise said, her own heart soaring. “They see what you built.”
He shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“No. They see what we built.” He tucked the card into his notebook.
“I’ll give it to Sophie. Let her handle it.
” He reached out and took élise’s hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles.
“But the first person who truly read it, who saw its soul… that was you.”
The unexpected reader had come and gone, a herald from a future that was expanding in thrilling, unimaginable ways.
But as they stood together behind the counter, surrounded by the stories that had started it all, the core truth remained unchanged.
No matter how far his story traveled, its home, and his, would always be right here.