Winter Bakery

38. Grégoire

Jigi stared blankly at the folded. It read, An investigation of the murder of Grégoire Lefèvre. Her father was killed. She looked up at the saw him staring at her intensely.

"My father was killed?" Jigi questioned looking into his cloudy grey eyes.

"Now, I've got your attention." He said. Jigi just stared at him blankly. She wanted to him to deny everything on this document.  Yet, she had this gut gutting feeling.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you a few weeks ago. Do you remain the events of the days and nights leading to your father's funeral?", He explained. He folded her arms on his desk. The air around Jigi stilled, eerily still.

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&&Warning signs of violence, drug use, abuse and images of blood&&&

Puffs of powder from a concealer filled the air, Claudine gawked at her reflected image. To which she did not like, she had be reduced to a punching bag.

She felt infuriated yet frightened by the outcome of her marriage. She had been married for six years now. The first year of her marriage was magical. It was everything she dreamed of.

She sighed applying a bit more conceal to the bruise on her face. It was purple now a contrast to her mildly olive skin. Her daughter came running through the door yelling her name.

'God her daughter.' , she was the best thing that literally happened to her in this marriage. Thinking of her marriage brought blissful memories of her youthful years and the beginning of her marriage.

She had married the untouchable man in the town. Despite the fact that his family might not be well off, he was a dream but now what was he. A nightmare? She was gradually getting fed up.

"Maman, my elbow! I scraped it whilst swinging with Cole. There were these meanies. They were trying to make us leave. Cole defended me and I got hurt when we run away." Her daughter rumbled innocently in a jumbled mess of English and French.

Claudine looked intently at her daughter. She was blessing in this mistake. She was a replica of Grégoire the only thing that belonged to her was her hair and the lips. Everything else was Grégoire. Grégoire, the name left a weird aftertaste in her mouth, slimy and bitter.

"Jigi, slow down. Laisse-moi regarder cette éraflure." She held out her arms. Jigi took it as a sign to run into her mother's arms as she picked her up and held her close to her heart.

Claudine inspected the wound as she was at it Jigi played with her hair. "This isn't that bad. And the scratch isn't deep. We have to thank Cole for protecting you, don't we?" She said in French.

She placed Jigi on the stool in front of the dresser and mirror to go get the first aid kit. Claudine swiftly stitched it while Jigi reached out and touched her face, directly on top of the bruise. Claudine flinched even before she could process a thought not to.

"Maman, are you okay?" Jigi asked. Claudine eye ducts swelled with tears. She didn't like lying to Jigi but she had to protect her. After all ignore is bliss.

"I'm fine sweetie. Your mama simply wasn't looking at where she was going. That's why I tell you to be cautious and vigilant." Claudine responded. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She stared at her brown eyes that experienced exhaustion, melancholy and fear. She parted her daughter's hair in a wave like manner.

"Okay, maman I'll be careful just as you told me to." Jigi smiled and Hugh her extended arm brushing her fingers through her blonde tresses. "Maman, is papa travelling again?" Jigi stared in her mother's eyes.