If I Should Die by Amy Plum

choked on what she was eating. Arthur leapt up and got her a glass of water. She swallowed a big gulp of it and, coughing into her napkin, gasped, “That is the worst joke you have ever made. You could have killed me.” She patted her chest and coughed some more.
    â€œNo joke,” I said. “She’s having a chat with Jean-Baptiste and Gaspard and is coming to get us afterward.”
    â€œHoly shit,” my sister responded, pushing her plate away.
    â€œYou’ve barely touched your lasagna,” Arthur chided softly.
    â€œNot hungry anymore.” Georgia wrapped her arms around herself and sat there looking nervous.
    Charlotte changed the subject. “Geneviève and I had been talking about coming to Paris ever since your visit.”
    Not even a week ago, I realized with amazement, Vincent and I had been in the south of France sitting on the cliff overlooking the ocean and talking about our future. Just six days ago he explained the Dark Way to me, and his plan to kill numa in order to resist dying. And now he was gone.
    Jeanne came over from where she was preparing a tray for my grandmother, and gave me a firm, affectionate kiss on each cheek. “You’ll join us for some lasagna, won’t you, Kate?”
    â€œI’m really not hungry. Thanks anyway, Jeanne,” I said.
    â€œNonsense,” she replied. She picked up a plate, loaded it with a steaming square of gooey pasta, and set it in front of me.
    â€œNever say no to Jeanne,” muttered Ambrose, taking a sizable bite of garlic bread. “Especially over one of her Italian grandmother’s recipes. Not that she’ll get offended. She’ll just take it as a challenge. Watch this.” He gestured to his empty plate. “Jeanne, that lasagna was delicious. I’m so full I couldn’t imagine having another bite.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous,” she said, and bringing the pan over to the table, plopped a giant-size piece in front of him. “With all the fighting you boys will be doing, you need all the calories you can get.”
    Ambrose lifted an eyebrow and smiled at me in triumph before glancing across the table to Geneviève.
    Oh no , I thought. It looked like Ambrose hadn’t gotten over his crush on the recently widowed revenant. Which must be breaking Charlotte’s heart. She looked down at her food and pretended she didn’t see Ambrose’s longing gaze.
    â€œHow’s Charles?” I asked to distract her.
    â€œOh, he’s fine,” she said, her face brightening at the thought of her twin. “I mean, I haven’t seen him since he ran off to Germany, but he’s been emailing or calling almost every day.”
    â€œThey just got GPS tracking for each other on their cell phones,” added Geneviève with a grin.
    Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Thanks for letting everyone know about our sad twin-based codependence,” she moaned, but smiled. “It’s amazing how much he’s changed in so little time,” she continued to me. “He’s always talking about his feelings about ‘our destiny’ and how we’re here on earth to give back to humanity. He and his German kindred left this morning for some kind of spiritual mountain retreat.”
    She clicked on her cell phone and peered at a digital map showing France and Germany side by side. Over Paris was a blinking red light, and over Germany a green line headed west out of Berlin and stopped with a flashing question mark an inch to the west. “He must not have a signal there because he’s not even showing up.”
    â€œYeah, I would say that’s pretty codependent,” I said with a wry grin.
    Charlotte elbowed me playfully, “Oh, stop. No one but a twin could understand. Whatever,” she said, and stashed the phone in the pocket of her cardigan.
    â€œA little refreshment for your grandmother and the men,” Jeanne said as she bustled