mean,” said the woman, “that we met at a supermarket briefly, but for the most part only ever spoke online.”
“Online?” said Paige, gruffly, leaning past Adele and shouldering her out of the way so she could peer into the back seat. “What do you mean online?”
Melissa glanced between the two women. “I mean on the Internet. We have a chat room for expats from America. She wanted to meet up; it can be lonely sometimes in a new country if you don’t know anyone.”
“There are a lot of you here?” Agent Paige said. Adele didn’t like the disapproving tone in her partner’s voice. Paige issued a soft snort of air, but she kept herself mostly in check. “Don’t like the home country, is that it?”
Melissa fidgeted uncomfortably, twisting the seatbelt in her hands. She still had it attached, even though the car was parked. Adele didn’t blame her; sometimes people latched onto anything for a feeling of safety.
The woman shifted again and seemed unsure whom she ought to address. At last, she settled on looking at Adele. “We don’t dislike our country. At least, not all of us. Not really. There are a lot of reasons someone might move away. Culture, changing jobs. I can’t tell you how many hours most of us had to work back home. Sometimes it feels like in America you just live to work. In France, it feels like there is more of a life. Plus there are so many different people you can meet; a common history and architectural beauty…” She trailed off, shaking her head slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Don’t get me wrong; I do like America too, sometimes,” she added quickly. “But everyone has their priorities and tastes. Some people love to travel. Some people want to start over. I can’t imagine it’s that strange.”
Adele shook her head. “It isn’t,” she said, “but you said you met Amanda briefly before. How?”
Melissa brightened at this. “I… I met her while shopping. We…” She hesitated, her tone slipping. And she swallowed. “We met in a checkout line at Le Grande Epicerie de Paris…”
“The grocery store?” Adele asked.
Melissa’s eyes were sad, but a bit of humor crept into her tone as she said, “It’s—it’s a bit of a joke among our community. The USA section at the store only carries things like peanut butter cups, popcorn, beef jerky—a funny interpretation of what Paris believes are the staples back home…” Melissa hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s not uncommon for Americans to shop there. Some of us find it ironic; others…”
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