Chapter 15
I’ve been in her bag now for a full day. I thought travel was meant to be exciting. This is simply stifling.
Esmé opens her tote occasionally to drop in a lipstick or a pencil, so I only have momentary glimpses of my surroundings. Then she inserts a booklet. It has a deep red cover and a gold emblem with a shield and the head of a lion and an eagle. The letters RF are in the center. I don’t know what that means. I hope it’s good. I can make out the word “Passeport” along the bottom. I guess I understand French better than I thought.
“Hello,” I say to it.
“Bonjour,” it replies.
“What’s your story?” I ask.
“Esmé Deschamps. Age: 29. Née: Cluny. Couleur des Yeux: Noisette.”
“Do you speak any English?” I ask.
“Oui, yes,” he replies.
“Have you traveled much?” I ask.
“España,
