“On Friday evening, you stole the life of an exceptional being, the love of my life, the mother of my son, but you will not get my hate. I do not know who you are and I do not want to know, you are dead souls. If this God for whom you blindly killed cast us in his own image, each bullet in the body of my wife will have been a wound to his heart.
“So no, I will not grant you the gift of hating you. You have certainly sought it but to respond to hate with anger would be to yield to the same ignorance that has made you what you are. You want me to be scared, that I look at my fellow citizens with a distrustful eye, that I sacrifice my freedom for security. You’ve lost. Same player, shoot again.
“I saw her this morning. Finally, after nights and days of waiting. She was just as beautiful as when she left on Friday evening, just as beautiful as when I fell madly in love with her more than twelve years ago. Of course I am devastated by grief, I will let you have this little victory, but it will be short victory. I know that she will be with us each day and that we will find one another in the heaven of free souls to which you will never have access.”
“We are two, my son and I, but we are stronger than all the armies of the world. However, I do not have any more time to dedicate to you, I have to go to Melvil who is waking up from his nap. He is barely 17 months old, he is going to eat his snack like every day, then we are going to play like every day and all of his life, this little boy will affront you by being happy and free. Because no, you will not get his hate either.”
