Chapter 9: The Safehouse in Marseille**
Two days later, Camille was moved to a sunlit safehouse overlooking the Mediterranean coast in Marseille. The Mediterranean was a brilliant, calm turquoise—a stark contrast to the stormy waters of Geneva and Lyon.
Director Vance brought her fresh clothes: a soft yellow sweater, blue jeans, and new sneakers. The heavy trench coat hung in the wardrobe, its pockets emptied.
"The Swiss government has validated the entire gold transfer," Vance explained over breakfast on the terrace. "Every bar was purchased legally through an escrow account established by your mother. It's being converted into the Elena Hayes Foundation. It will fund schools, medical clinics, and safe havens across twelve countries."
Camille traced the rim of her porcelain teacup. "What happens to me?"
"You are officially under international protection," Vance said gently. "You can choose any school, any city. You can have a normal life, Camille. That is what Arthur fought for."
"I don't want a normal life without him," Camille replied quietly.
That afternoon, a courier delivered a wooden crate stamped with the seal of the Geneva Federal Police. Inside was Arthur's old canvas rucksack, retrieved from an abandoned car near the Alpine border crossing.
Camille unpacked it with trembling hands: his worn leather work gloves, a paperback book on astronomy, a compass, and an old cassette dictaphone with a single tape inside.
May you like
She pressed *Play*.
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