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Summary
The man crumpled up the paper in his hand rather dramatically. He met his eyes. Daniel didn’t expect to feel a strange rush when he did, but his unnaturally amber eyes stared into him in a way Daniel hadn’t expected. He had never seen eyes like his before, so captivating and piercing. After a few seconds of silence, Daniel realised the Frenchman was waiting for him to speak.
“Yeah, I recognise my own writing. Now, how did you-”
“Why did you write this?”
“Look, man, I-”
“What didn’t you get?”
Paris. 1945. The young journalist Daniel Molloy gets more than he bargained for after leaving a bad review for a particular theatre.