Until I Die

hanging above the door. On it, a carved raven perched atop the words le corbeau. A light was trying to go on in my head, but I couldn’t quite flip the switch.
I read it once again and had a mental flashback to the passage from Immortal Love , with its Gothic-style letters that were so hard to read. And suddenly it clicked, and my heart began beating a million miles an hour. Le corbeau , “the raven.” Not le cordeau , “the cord.” I had misread the ancient letters in the book and had been looking for the wrong sign the whole time.
Could this possibly be the place I was looking for? It sold relics … under the sign of the raven … among the Audoniens . But this building could only be a few hundred years old, tops.
I didn’t know what to think. But there was nothing else to be done. They were closed. No phone number or opening hours were posted on the door. There wasn’t even a number on the building. I checked the sign on the doll shop and the place directly across from it and guessed the store’s address from that, writing it down with the name of the street.
A woman walked out of the vintage clothes store and lit a cigarette. She glanced over at me. “He’ll be back on Tuesday,” she called. “Tuesday through Friday.”
“Thanks so much!” I called back.
Well, I had two days to wait. And only an hour or two before Vincent was going to be off walking duty. I hope he doesn’t mind hanging out in my room , I thought. After my busy weekend, I was going to have to spend the whole evening doing homework.

TWENTY
     
    MY PHONE RANG ON TUESDAY MORNING AT THE exact second my alarm went off. I checked the caller’s name and then answered. “So, Mr. Punctual, how are you feeling?” I asked.
“Alive. Again. And I’ve been waiting for an hour to call. Didn’t want to wake you before your alarm.” His voice was like a long, cool drink of water to my affection-parched soul.
I smiled. “I don’t have time to stop by before school. And you’re probably too weak to move. In fact, are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. But I looked in a mirror, and I look normal again.”
“Well, that’s a huge relief.”
“I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t stop. Just four more weeks to go, Kate. So I was calling to say … I won’t be able to see you tonight.” My heart dropped. After Sunday’s heartfelt conversation, I so wanted to see him in the flesh. To know that what we had talked about hadn’t just been a dream.
“Can’t you do whatever it is tomorrow?”
“I’m sorry, Kate. It’s really important that I get to it as soon as I’m able.”
I was starting to feel at the end of my rope with this whole project. “What do you want me to say?” I snapped, and then sighed. “Please try to be safe, whatever you do.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Vincent’s voice was apologetic.
“I don’t understand, Vincent.”
“You will soon. Everything’s going to be fine—I swear.”
Yeah. It will. Because I’m going to find another way .
    My mood remained dark for the entire school day, and as soon as my last class was over, I booked it to the flea market. It took me a full hour, counting the bus, and the two Métro changes, but finally I was there, standing in front of the little green shop, which was … closed.
I had looked it up on the internet, and there was no listing for anything called Le Corbeau. I even Google-mapped it, sifting through the businesses listed in the area near its address. I could see the front of the building on the street view, but there was no mention of the store. It didn’t show up in Yellow Pages searches for religious items. There was no trace of it online.
I had wanted to call ahead of time to make sure they were open—always a good thing to do in France. Shop owners are capricious, opening and closing at their whim. There had been many occasions when I’d schlepped halfway across town only to find locked doors and a sign reading, Temporarily closed . Or no sign at all. Like now.
However, the lights were on in the vintage clothes store. An old-fashioned bell jingled above my head as I opened the door, and I got a whoosh of air in the face that smelled like the inside of old suitcases. “ Bonjour , mademoiselle ,” came a voice from behind a rack of crinolines. The woman who’d been outside smoking the other day stuck her head over the rack and peered at me expectantly.
“Hi. I was just wondering if you knew about the shop next