The thick fog that enveloped the village of Précy-sur-Marne finally dissipated by late morning, but only because it had started to rain. The heavy and powerful raindrops pounded on the roofs of buildings and the ground.

The water flowed unobstructed over the asphalt roads before being swept away to the outside, filling gutters and ditches. The land that had been prepared for the next planting season was saturated and could not absorb any more water. All this water remained on the surface, reflecting the gray February sky, forming large puddles in some places. Most of this water would end up in the Marne River, which had swollen considerably in recent days, before being carried away to the sea. The current was strong despite the gentle slope, carrying all sorts of things, from simple plastic waste to tree trunks. The water level had risen sharply, but fortunately, it hadn't reached an alarming threshold.

Wanting to isolate herself for a moment, Stéphanie went to the small road that crossed the commune of Précy-sur-Marne and slipped into an abandoned large family car. It was a big gray minivan that could accommodate up to five people with a very large trunk. It made it the ideal vehicle for families. This was why Stéphanie's father had bought one. Coincidentally, this car was the same color and model.

When she saw it for the first time, Stéphanie even thought it was her father's car. Only the license plate was different.

Comfortably seated on the back seat, spared from the water that trickled over the roof and into the interior through the broken windshield, Stéphanie listened silently to the sound of the rain.

Despite the time that had passed since the blackout, the car's interior hadn't suffered too much. Of course, the seats were damp. She could smell an unpleasant odor emanating from the fabrics, mixed with the scent of wet earth. She herself didn't smell like roses. Despite that, she felt good. She felt like she had taken a step back in time.

It really looks like dad's car. I'm so happy I found it. It brings back memories.

A violent gust shook the stationary car. The rain seemed to lash at the intact windows. Water cascaded down the glass like a waterfall, preventing the girl from seeing clearly what was happening outside.

Through the broken windshield, Stéphanie could see how violent the downpour was. The rain looked like dense, slanted ropes, making it impossible to see more than a few dozen meters. The noise was dreadful.

What a shower! I'm glad to be dry!

She was sitting across the bench, occupying the three rear seats and using the right rear window as a backrest. This way, her feet stayed dry, as the water freely entered the interior through the gaping hole left by the windshield. It was everywhere.

Stéphanie turned her gaze away from the biblical scene outside and looked at the bottom of the minivan. There were about five to ten centimeters of water (4 inch).

Hmm, this is going to get annoying if it keeps raining like this.

The past few days had been very wet, so much so that her small community spent all their time at the town hall. She had started to feel cramped there, and the smell wasn't very pleasant either. There was a strong wet dog odor upstairs. It would be unfair to blame only Leto and Soda. Unfortunately, there were no working radiators to drive away the humidity and warm up the group.

Luckily, no other refugee families had arrived.

The girl let out a deep sigh of relief. The sound of the rain hitting the minivan's roof soothed her. It was a background noise she sometimes played at night, before the power cut, to fall asleep more easily. With earphones in her ears, she let herself be lulled by this gentle noise. It was one of her favorite background sounds along with a fireplace and the wind.

Since the power cut, she had experienced these things without the help of YouTube.

Ah, it makes me want to sleep. I think I could.

She then saw a dark figure approaching from the window opposite the vehicle. With the rain, it was impossible to make out the figure clearly. She couldn't even hear the footsteps.

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The silhouette circled the minivan and appeared at the hood.

"Steph? Are you there?"

"Ah, Marie. Yes, I'm here."

"We were wondering where you'd gone. I suspected you'd be here."

Marie was the only one who knew about this hiding place and why she had chosen it. She had told her about the car the very day she discovered it.

"Can I come in?" Marie asked, pulling her hood further down over her face.

"No," her sister replied distantly.

"…"

"I'm joking," Stéphanie said, folding her legs against her chest.

Marie shook her head and started to climb onto the slippery hood. Cautiously, she slipped into the interior, taking care not to cut herself on the glass shards. One leg after another, she passed through the opening with the agility of a cat and joined her sister. They were now facing each other.

For some time now, their common physical traits had become more noticeable. They had the same face, the same nose, and the same eyes. But Marie was a head taller than Stéphanie, mainly thanks to her long legs. They had always been thin, but with the crisis, they had become even thinner. The same was true for the faces of both sisters.

"Even though I know it's not dad's car, I can't help thinking it looks a lot like it."

"The smell is different, and it's missing the PSG flag."

Indeed, there were no decorations in this car. Stéphanie had searched the car but found no clues about the former owners. Xavier Lemoine proudly displayed his love for the Paris Saint-Germain football team. He had wedged a small flag, which he had bought at a big match, into one of the air vents of his minivan. This flag had been in every car Xavier Lemoine had ever driven.

"And it's missing the 'poc' you left on the roof."

"That I left?!" she exclaimed, blushing. "It was you!"

"Haha, no, I assure you, it was you. I remember it like it was yesterday. You hit it, and it left a mark. I don't remember why you did it, though. Dad was furious. We almost didn't go to Disneyland because of it."

Stéphanie scrutinized her older sister. She seemed so certain of what she was saying that doubt crept into the young girl's heart. To her, it had always been her sister's doing. But the mention of the amusement park vaguely rang a bell.

They had gone there twice in total. The second time was in winter, a little before Christmas three years ago, and the first time ten years ago. It was summer, during the school holidays. At that time, she was only six years old. Her memory was quite hazy, but some details remained, mainly related to attractions based on her favorite childhood cartoons.

Was it me? Well, it's possible. I was little…

At that time, she knew nothing about how the world worked and was far from understanding politics. Her activism had come many years later. The amusement park, on her second visit, seemed much less magical. One could say it represented almost everything wrong with society: overconsumption, profit-seeking, exploitation of often precarious workers, destruction of natural spaces for new parking lots and park expansion, and the glorification of patriarchy by reducing princesses to trophies, etc.

Despite all these things she fiercely fought against in large protests, she had still had fun that day. There wasn't as much waiting as during their first visit because far fewer tourists visited in the middle of winter. She had thus been able to enjoy the rides more.

"Hey, Marie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think we can go there?"

"Where? Disneyland?"

"Yeah."

"The park will be closed. Without electricity, nothing will work. And it's not exactly nearby."

"I saw a map at the town hall. It's not that far. And it doesn't matter if nothing works. It's just that... I want to go there one last time."

"It could be dangerous, Steph."

"As you said, nothing will work there. No one will be there."

"Maybe," Marie replied, changing the position of her legs, "but it could be dangerous on the way. We could run into people. It's too risky."

Stéphanie knew her sister well. She could tell when Marie wanted to be convinced and was almost ready to change her mind. She stared at Marie and gave her a big puppy-dog look. She was good at this look. It usually worked on their parents. Most of the time.

"Ugh, fine. But you definitely won't go alone. There must be at least four of us. And we need to be armed."

"Yes!" Stéphanie said joyfully, raising a triumphant fist to the sky.

POC

"Huh?"

The girl and her sister looked at the minivan's roof where Stéphanie had accidentally hit it. Her fingerprints were clearly visible.

"Fuck."

"See, it was you! Now this car looks even more like dad's!"

"Oh, shut up!"

Despite Stéphanie's harsh words, her eyes and lips smiled. She found the situation too amusing to get angry, especially at her precious sister.

Later, the plan was presented to the rest of the community in the attic of the town hall. It was far from unanimous, sparking an intense debate between those who thought it was too dangerous for what it offered and those who believed it was good to have a distraction, especially in these troubled times when crises followed one after another.

Finally, the plan was accepted on the condition that at least three adult men would accompany them. Olivier volunteered to go with them, as well as Jérôme and his eldest son, Baptiste. The younger son, Kévin, who always sought to befriend Stéphanie, also volunteered. Stéphanie suspected his motive but pretended not to know. Amin also agreed to go, which meant the only man left behind to build the house would be Mathieu, despite his hand injury.