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Pulling the door closed, she fled the deserted house, and drove in a tearful stupor back to Paris.
That night, with her life shattered by disillusionment and betrayal, she packed her belongings and left her home.
On the dining room table, she left a note.
I WAS THERE.
DON'T TRY TO FIND ME.
Beside the note, she laid the old spare key from the chuteau's woodshed.
Sophie! Langdon's voice intruded.
Stop! Stop!" Emerging from the memory, Sophie slammed on the brakes, skidding to a halt.
What? What happened?!" Langdon pointed down the long street before them.
When she saw it, Sophie's blood went cold.
A hundred yards ahead, the intersection was blocked by a couple of DCPJ police cars, parked askew, their purpose obvious.
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