(JOY)
“JEAN! I’m sorry I’m late!”
Jean was standing in front of the small police station, talking to an officer when Hosea and I arrived. He turned when I called his name, his face ready to give a smile. However, he froze when he saw Hosea. Disappointment flickered on his eyes for a second before he focused his attention on me and smiled.
“Joy. I have talked to le policier.”
“Merci Beaucoup.” I smiled at him gratefully. Then I introduced myself to the police officer and he did the same. We entered the station. The knife was already on the table of the policier. It was no longer wrapped in Jean’s handkerchief. It was now inside a plastic zip bag.
I knew the moment Hosea saw the knife. He was standing so close behind me that I felt it wh
