Proserpina

The children spoke to Lucien every day, twice a day. Without fail. Even if it was midnight in the US, he would be wide awake, smiling, listening to their excited chatter indulgently. He seemed eager to hear them, to see them and terribly reluctant to stop their long conversations. We barely exchanged a few clipped words. It hurt me but I carried on with a brave face.

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Lucien

Lucien hated to see them go, his wife and his children. But he wanted her to ...