( CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. )

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NEW YORK CITY



FIRST THE STING ON HER CHEEK OF AN ICY GUST OF WIND. Then the slight rustling of leaves, the quiet twittering of birds. The first rays of sunlight sensed through the temporary veil of unopened eyelids. And the creaking of branches. The smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. Off in the distance, a vague droning sound, discordant and dreamlike. 

His dark eyes were frozen on the road ahead of him as they both sat on the bench in Central Park. The busiest place in New York was vacant, but then it was only dawn. The rose-pink light in the sky before sunrise was mesmerizing. But the truth that resonated in Billy's ears, was more important than focusing on the rise of a new day. 

He didn't dare meet her eye⎯ and neither did she. 

The silence between them was sickening, and Giselle couldn't bear it anymore. Her insides were clenching as she thought  about her current situation. Her heart was racing promptly at Billy's confession. If he knew Celeste was alive, then the woman must have paid him a visit. 

"Is she here?" she inquired, her voice was low. 

He took a moment to respond, probably because he was trying to understand all the information that was dropped on him. 

And then he did. "Yes." 

Giselle sucked the air between her teeth. "This is not good." 

"Why?" he asked, in a grave voice that starled her. 

She looked at him, for the first time since she told him everything. And she couldn't have the heart to lie anymore⎯ not because she can't. Giselle could lie just like she could breathe. But because she was walking on thin ice. "Because that means her mission is in New York." 

"Do you know⎯" he paused, taking a deep breath. "⎯about her missions? I . . Were we?" 

 A momentary silence graced their conversation at first. The only thing Billy could hear was the sound of birds chirping and her soft breathing. 

"If you're asking if she pretended to be your friend, then no. Celeste loved you⎯ Frank, Curtis." she looked down at her hands, trembling lightly while she rubbed them softly. "She loved you so much, but⎯"  

"⎯but she loved you more." 

He was now looking at her, his eyes dancing with a mixture of apprehension and wariness.

Giselle shook her head, and decided to respond. "Celeste is a troubled woman. But she doesn't do things without purpose."

"What are you trying to say?" 

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