As we greeted the first guest, and as Auguste took their coats and invited them in, he looked over at me and winked a wink of relief. I decided that, what I now knew but that he couldn’t see, I’d wait until later to share. In fact, I thought that I would wait until morning to tell him that—his hairline had been singed, his lashes had been scorched, and—he no longer had any eyebrows.
Related Story: The Christmas Jar
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