Elektra could have listened to her, heard her soft voice, watched the expressions form and dissolve on her face, for hours. But Eugénie wanted to know everything she could about her. At first, she didn’t know where to begin. Not because her life was so rich, so busy, but the very opposite. Since she had bailed out of school at fifteen, she had travelled to London and to New York—all financed by her parents. She had been in love many times and been heartbroken just as many. She’d worked in waiting and behind the bar, had been a dishwasher, a tattooist’s assistant and, briefly, a juggler in a travelling circus. None of it had mattered, because here she was living with her parents in the backside end of the island whose only thing going for it was that it was a significant tourist destination
