The idea for The Past Refuses to Die came to me long before I began writing the novel.

And it began with a coincidence.

I had just bought my first metal detector. That morning, I put it in the trunk of my car with a simple idea in mind: after work, I would go somewhere and try it out.

I hadn’t chosen a place.

During the day, I stopped by to see a colleague who was working on a coin-operated machine. Scattered across his workbench were a few old coins that were no longer in use. Among them was an aluminum five-franc coin.

The moment I saw it, I thought of my childhood. I used to have a piggy bank where I kept a few coins, and I particularly remembered those aluminum five-franc pieces.

I asked my colleague if I could have the coin as a keepsake. He was happy to give it to me.

I slipped it into my pocket.

And forgot all about it.

At the end of the day, I got into my car and drove off to try my metal detector.

I had no particular destination in mind.

What I remember most is deciding to let go. Not to look for a place that had any particular reason to be interesting.

I took a small road. Then, for some reason, I felt like stopping in the middle of a forest. I followed a narrow trail for a few yards. Then, for no particular reason, I stepped off the trail and made my way into the undergrowth.

A few moments later, my detector beeped.

I dug.

An aluminum five-franc coin.

I picked it up and, almost immediately, reached into my pocket for the other one.

I held the two coins in my hand.

The same coin, except for the date.

One from 1947.

The other from 1949.

I stood there for a long time, looking at them.

The two coins that gave birth to the idea for The Past Refuses to Die.

Of course, you could call it a coincidence.

An old coin on a workbench. Another buried beneath a few inches of soil.

A succession of decisions made almost at random: a road, a place to stop, a trail, then a few steps into the undergrowth.

Nothing impossible.

And yet…

All those little things had to happen on the same day for those two coins to end up, just a few hours later, in my hands.

That was when an idea began to take shape.

What if some coincidences weren’t just coincidences?

There was no Sébastien yet. No Margot. No real story.

Just two coins in the palm of my hand.

But without knowing it yet, The Past Refuses to Die had just begun.