Used book – October Snows, Michel Giliberti

This morning, as he got up, Thomas didn't know that for the last time he was opening the blinds before drinking his last coffee... How is it that we don't feel this ultimate moment of rupture coming? Nothing on his handsome face reflected the slightest hint of worry... What am I going to do now? My life is screwed, for sure. Trial, prison, sordid press. There! Drama among the crazy. Maybe Mireille Dumas, with her dead poodle on her head, will come and ask me terrible questions in the depths of my cell: "Julien, what were you thinking when you killed your lover?".