Marie was the first to snap out of her stupor. As the eldest, a heavy burden now rested on her young shoulders. Despite the grief that consumed her, she had to make tough decisions for herself and Stéphanie. She decided to bring Christine's body downstairs to rest beside their father, waiting in the living room.
They seemed peaceful, but a quick glance revealed that their final moments had been painful. Xavier's pajamas were stained with blood, and Christine's face was bruised.
The two girls, who had almost no tears left to shed after crying so much, sat on either side of the two lifeless bodies, silent, reflecting on various things, particularly on what had happened during the night. Stéphanie kept wondering what she could have done to prevent this tragedy.
But there was nothing. She was just a fifteen-year-old.
Her gaze shifted to her older sister, who had been as powerless as she was. She was leaning forward in her brown leather armchair, hands clasped together as if in prayer, lips trembling. Her gaze was fixed on the pale faces of their two parents. She couldn't grasp the information that was right in front of her. Stéphanie had the same problem. It was as if all of this was just a horrible nightmare, that none of it was real. She hoped to wake up soon and find her parents alive and well in the living room, enjoying a hot breakfast while listening to music. It had become their routine since they had been overwhelmed with bad news on various news channels. To avoid going crazy, they had decided to disconnect, at least in the morning, to start the day peacefully.
The TV was silent, as was the living room. Despite the daylight streaming through the two windows of the living room, Stéphanie found the house cold. The two girls could have passed for statues. Finally, it was Marie who broke the silence.
"We can't leave them here."
"W-who should we notify?"
"I don't think anyone can take care of Dad and Mom. We'll have to do it ourselves. Then, we'll leave."
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"Y-you're kidding, right?" the young girl choked out, staring at her older sister.
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
"W-we can't just leave like that!"
"Yes, we can and we must, Stéph. It's too dangerous. That's why we talked about leaving for the countryside yesterday. We must get away from the city at all costs."
"And... And you want to do that where? In the garden?"
"Yes," Marie replied simply, nodding slowly as she fixed her parents' faces in her memory. "It's their home, after all. Letting them rest here wouldn't be such a bad thing."
Stéphanie didn't respond immediately. It was a lot for her to take in, but she knew her sister was right. Hospitals and morgues had likely stopped functioning, and the dead must be numerous in the city. If hospitals had experienced a widespread power outage like them, it inevitably meant that everyone who relied on electricity to live was dead. That certainly represented hundreds of people!
"A-all right. Since no one can come help us, we'll do it. W-we should cover them. I'll get shovels from the garage."
As she stepped into the garage, she was overwhelmed by a flood of emotion. She almost never came here, as she was really not the type to get her hands dirty. She hated gardening as much as she hated doing housework. It was her father who did all the repairs and her mother who took care of the garden. Her gaze swept the large room, bathed in semi-darkness, involuntarily searching for her father's silhouette. It was almost as if she could hear his voice asking her what she wanted while he was busy tinkering on his small workbench. But the garage was empty and silent.
A small tear began to fall on her bruised cheek, which she hurriedly wiped away with a sleeve. She took two shovels and left the garage as if she were trying to escape the painful memories.
Outside, it was daylight but still a bit chilly. Her sister was there, waiting for her.
"W-where?"
"Under the cherry tree, it seems good to me."
"OK."
They didn't need to say more. Stéphanie handed a shovel to her sister, and together they began to dig a hole in the dark earth. In the young girl's mind, each shovel strike sounded like a guillotine. This sharp sound was followed by a softer sound, that of the overturned earth on the dense grass. They didn't think it would be so physically hard, but neither Stéphanie nor Marie complained. They continued their work in silence, guided by a fierce determination to honor Xavier and Christine Lemoine, under the curious gaze of a few small birds in the apple tree at the back of the garden. Without needing to discuss it between them, the two girls dug a single hole, large enough to accommodate the bodies of their two parents.