Then, at the bottom of a box, an unclassified photo catches his eye.Two little girls.
One is her.
The other one looks strangely like him.
On the back, a handwritten inscription: "Camille and Manon".
Manon? This first name doesn't mean anything to her. No memory, no anecdote.
And yet, the resemblance is uncanny.
When doubt becomes certainty
Camille examines the albums again, more carefully. No other trace. No clues.
An idea gradually takes hold:
What if this child was his sister?
All her life, she believed herself to be an only child. No second bedroom. No confidences starting with "when you were little". Nothing.
Only one person can still hold the truth: Françoise, his mother's sister, with whom the ties have weakened over the years.
Camille doesn't make a phone call. She takes her car.Two little girls.
One is her.
The other one looks strangely like him.
On the back, a handwritten inscription: "Camille and Manon".
