I woke up with heavy eyelids, an excruciating backache and a stiff neck. Normally, when I fell asleep on the sofa, the sun's rays would reflect off the television screen and land on my eyelids. Realising that this wasn't the case, I suddenly turned my head to see thick clouds outside. Feeling my neck crack, I instantly regretted my action.

— Ouch! I exclaimed.

After spending a few minutes massaging the back of my neck, I lazily got up before doing my morning routine. Not being in the mood to go out, I decided to stay in the flat and work on my article. A feeling of joy accompanied me despite my rather chaotic awakening, and I wrote and polished it in a good seven hours.

Around four o'clock, my article on Yoni eggs was finished, and I sent it to my chief editor, Sibylline. This woman, admired by all, was quite simply the superwoman of all time. She had an incomparable talent for managing a thousand and one tasks in a day, which explained her role in the team over the years. Standing at a height of one metre seventy-five, Sibylline reigned over the world of the women's press.

With the feeling of pure satisfaction that I am used to get at the end of an article, I left my room to make myself a very late lunch. Once my lasagna was in the oven, I thought about my novel. I had thousands of scenarios in mind, but I had to decide on one, once and for all. Caught up in my thoughts, I was startled by my mobile phone's ringtone.

— Hi Sibylline! I replied, seeing my boss's name on the screen.
— Hi Liz, how are you?
— Yeah really good thanks, you?
— I'm perfectly well, and even better since I read your article! To tell you the truth, I was rather sceptical when you told us about the subject, especially as most people don't know what it's all about, like me for example, she laughs. But your article blew me away. As usual, you managed to get straight to the point in your explanation, while charming the reader. And I learnt a lot about the perineum. Well done, I'm going to send it to the editorial team and they'll publish it on the site by this evening.

I was delighted by her approval and jumped up and down for joy.

— Amazing! Would you like me to start a new article today?
— No, we'll going to wait for the others to finish theirs and then hold an online meeting. By the way, did you get to meet Ingrid?
— Yes, I saw her yesterday, and she's absolutely adorable! Thanks again for putting me in touch with her.
— I'm happy to hear that you're opening up to publishing opportunities. Oh.... I'd love to talk more about it, but someone is calling me.
— No worries, enjoy your evening!
— You too, bye, she said before hanging up.

Sibylline had managed to forge a personal bond with every member of the team, making the atmosphere pleasant despite the pressure we were under to maintain the magazine's reputation. She would even have a drink or two with us when we organised socials. This enabled all of us to produce good, efficient work.

I continued to work on my novel, then my timer went off. I took my lasagna out of the oven and left it to cool down while I decided to check on Harry. We hadn't spoken in a while, although we usually called each other twice a week. As Charlie had quickly taken on a fatherly role, I had developed a very friendly relationship and a special bond with Harry.

I barely had time to put my phone to my ear before he answered.

— Hi sis, how are you?
— I'm fine, how are you? Are you still in Paris?
— I'm fine, and yes, I'm still there. I won't be back until tomorrow morning. Why? he asked me in a strange voice.

I had the impression that something was wrong.

— I just wanted to know, and is Mum better?
— Much better, we were out all day yesterday and she was glowing.

I sighed with relief.

— Cute! I commented. Thank you, Harry, really.
— But don't thank me, it's Mum we're talking about, so it's perfectly normal. It's not like it's Charlie.

I'm laughing.

— Of course, you're never going to worry about our elder brother, are you?
— Absolutely not, he could die at the bottom of a hole, and I wouldn't care.

I was about to remind him of his panic when he heard that Charlie had sprained his ankle when I heard whispers at the other end of the phone.

— Harry? I asked.
— Lizzy, darling! exclaimed my mother.
— Mum? Did you steal Harry's phone? I said, amused.
— I wanted to talk to my darling daughter. Is that wrong?

She didn't give me time to reply as she continued:

— In fact, Harry and I were thinking we could organise something as a family this month, because it's been a long time since we've all seen each other! I miss you and Charlie so much!

I rested my elbows on the kitchen bar, frowning.

— But Mum, come on, we saw each other three weeks ago.
— Yes, but for a poor woman who has to stay at home on her own when all her children have run off like thieves, that's a lot.
— Stop trying to make us feel guilty and don't pretend that you're not having fun with the subscriptions we pay you for aqua aerobics, yoga, mosaics and zumba!

As I said this, I remembered that I had my cooking class later in the evening.

— Lizzy? Lizzy, are you there? I heard.
— Yes, Mum. I'm sorry, I got carried away in my thoughts, I explained as I walked over to my lasagna. Listen, I'm going to eat soon, but in any case, I'm up for a get-together, at home as usual?

I smiled as I thought of all the times we'd organised our reunions at home and all the silly things we'd done on those occasions.

— No, at your place.

Naturally, I was about to reply that it was a good idea, when the meaning of his sentence popped into my brain.

— Wait, what? At my place?
— Yes, at your place, wouldn't you like that?
— Of course it is! It's just that it's so... small and I'd never even considered it.
— Well, after that, it's your choice, sweetheart. We thought it would be cool to meet at your place, and you wouldn't have to go anywhere.
— When did you start using the word 'cool'? Yes, why not! I'd be delighted to have you!
— She said yes! she exclaimed a little too loudly.

I frowned again as I took out a plate.

— Who are you talking to?
— Harry and Charlie, who else?
— Wait, Charlie's in Paris?
— Well, his boss has gone on holiday and as Charlie hasn't had much time off this year, he offered him to take the week off. So he decided to come and join us on a whim.

I felt that something was really wrong.

— Will Harry be back tomorrow?
— No... she added in a slightly strained voice. Harry called and said he was ill so he could stay with Charlie and me.
— Do you realise that it's September and that life is getting back to normal after the summer holidays?

I heard three laughter, all three I knew all too well.

— I'm on speakerphone, aren't I? Well, to get back to our main conversation, why not, listen, but when would that be?

The laughter intensified.

— Er, maybe in a few seconds? intervened Charlie.

I didn't have time to put my phone down to cut my lasagna when I heard the doorbell ring. I was about to head for the door when Charlie's last words hit me hard.

— Wait, what? I shouted. Don't tell me you're standing in front of my building...

I rushed to open the front door for them and waited until they came up to the second floor. When I saw Charlie, I ran towards him and jumped to hug him. He put down what appeared to be his suitcase and squeezed me back.

— I thought we'd only seen each other 'three weeks ago', he said, imitating my voice.

Releasing myself from his embrace, I stuck my tongue out at him, wrinkling my eyelids, and received a wink in return. I quickly detailed his blue eyes and chestnut hair. Running my hand over his beard, which hadn't been shaved for a few days, I smiled at him before pulling my mother close to me.

— I hope you're happy to see us, darling, she said worriedly. You didn't sound very cheerful on the phone.
— Of course I was! You've just caught me off guard, but I'm really glad you're here, I said after releasing her.

She looked much better; her colour had returned and her dark circles were almost gone. As for Harry, he stood back and watched me. His muscular arms were crossed over his chest. He arched an eyebrow and smiled. He came closer and pressed me against him. It was true that his expressions of affection resembled murderous desires.

— You're strangling me here, I managed to say, despite my cheeks being completely flattened between his chest and his arm.
— It's my love for you, little sister!

I pinched his arm.

— I'm not joking!

He suddenly let go of me and rubbed his arm.

— You really hurt me!
— I'm sorry, but I almost choked, I said before turning back to my mother and Charlie, who had already gone back to my flat.
— It smells so good! Where are the plates? shouted Charlie from my kitchen as I entered the living room.
— Make yourselves at home, I laugh, before preparing a larger portion for them.