For what felt like hours, Camille was pulled through the chapters of her own book. The café scene melted into a corporate office where she had to defend a professional project using professional vocabulary. That scene shifted into a lively dinner party where she had to navigate complex cultural idioms and express emotions with precision.
Camille blinked. She was no longer in her room. She was sitting at a tiny, round metal table on the terrace of a bustling café in Lyon. Alter Ego 4. Livre d'eleve
"Listen," Camille said, stumbling. "I think... je pense que... wait, à mon avis ... the companies must make more efforts." For what felt like hours, Camille was pulled
"Alors, tu es d'accord avec l'auteur ou pas?" a voice asked. Camille blinked
Camille opened her eyes with a gasp. She was back in her bedroom. The audio track on her computer had finished playing and was emitting a continuous stop tone.