“And you pay it to him with your body?”

Juliette nodded. “It’s the only currency he accepts.”

“What do you owe him?” Kingsley asked.

Juliette took a step forward and let her toes touch the water. The tide ebbed around her ankles and slid back into the sea.

“My family has always worked for his family and his family has been here since before the Revolution. My great-grandparents, my grandparents, my mother...our families are intimately intertwined. Maman was a housekeeper for Gérard’s father. And more.”

“They were lovers.”

“Of course. I say of course, but you haven’t seen my mother. In her youth, she was beautiful.”

“I can imagine,” Kingsley said, admiring Juliette.

“Gérard was appointed ambassador to Haiti when he was only thirty-three or thirty-four. But it’s an old family, the Guillroys. Old name, great power. That story.”

Kingsley knew that story well.

“Gérard has an understanding with his wife. They own companies together, properties. Better to stay married and live apart than divide the assets.”

“Very practical,” Kingsley said. “Very French.”

“It is,” Juliette said with the smallest of smiles.

“What happened?”

“Growing up in his house? Nothing.” She crossed her arms, shrugged her shoulders. “He was kind but distant with me. He had his own children to occupy him. Twin girls four years older than I am.”

“Something must have changed along the way.”

“Maman changed,” Juliette said. “All her life she was a little unstable. Emotional. She overreacted to things. But she was smart and strong. She took good care of me even if she did scare me sometimes with the things she said. But when I was thirteen...”

She paused. The pause scared Kingsley enough that he said, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to tell you. I want you to know. When I was thirteen, Maman changed. She...” Juliette took a ragged breath. “She went quiet. She was withdrawn, and then in a flash, angry. She grew paranoid and scared. She heard things, voices. And she started hurting herself. I walked into the kitchen one day and found her bleeding from both arms.”

“Suicide attempt?”

“No, she said she saw snakes under her skin and had to cut them free.”

Juliette shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest. Kingsley wanted to hold her and comfort her. He didn’t deserve to hear this story, so personal and painful.

“The doctor said schizophrenia. And Maman must never be left alone. She couldn’t work anymore, of course. I tried to watch her on my own, I did. But it was too much for me.”

“You were only a child.”

“I was but I wasn’t,” she said. “I was smart, too. I had the same education as Gérard’s girls, who were four years ahead of me, and I did better in our lessons than they did. I was smart and I knew...I knew how the world worked.”

“What did you do?”

“When summer came and his daughters went back to Cannes to be with their mother, I went to Gérard and asked him to put my mother in a hospital. A good one where she could get the care she needed. The doctor had mentioned a place in Switzerland where people like my mother got very good care.”

“What did he say?”

“He said such a place was expensive. And that although he was very sorry, my mother no longer worked for him. I told him I would take her place. I told him I would do the work she did for him if he would pay for the hospital. I told him I would do anything he wanted. In bed and out of it.”

“I assume he took you up on your offer.”

“I was fourteen by then, tall, a woman already in many ways. We were alone in the house. He brought me to his bedroom, and he took my virginity. That was over twelve years ago.”

Kingsley stomach turned. “You were fourteen.”

“I was scared, but the truth is, I enjoyed it. Eventually,” she said. “He’s a good lover. Handsome. Passionate.”

“French.”

“Of course,” she said with a smile. Then the smile faded. “I thought I was in love with him. For a long time I thought that. We did everything in bed two people could do. But I never forgot, not once, that my mother was at his mercy.”

“What would happen to her if you left him?”

“What are mental hospitals in New York like?” she asked.

“Hell,” Kingsley said. “Even the good ones are like Hell, they say.”

“Imagine what one in Haiti is like.”

“I don’t want to. Truly, I have seen enough horrors to last a lifetime.”

“I believe you,” Juliette said. “So now you know. Gérard takes care of Maman. I take care of him. If I stop taking care of him, he stops taking care of her. And when I say he owns me, I mean it.”

“Is this why you want to die? Is that why you’re planning to kill yourself?”

She looked askance at him.

“I saw the rocks in your bag,” he said by way of explanation. “I saw the book in your nightstand. Planning to follow in Virginia Woolf’s footsteps?”

Juliette’s lips formed a hard line. It took a few moments before she seemed ready to speak again.

“When I was eighteen, Gérard gave me a ring. Diamonds and sapphires. Worth a fortune. I have a cousin—he’s gone to Miami now, but when he lived here he worked outside the law. I had him sell the ring, and I told Gérard it was stolen at knifepoint. He kissed me, said he was sorry and called the insurance company. He had a check for the full cost of the ring and then some in a week and I...” She held up her right hand to display a diamond and sapphire glinting on her ring finger.