4

And carefully, Lyre Raot placed a tiara on the head of her head and then on her own, then turned them towards the mirror that occupied part of one wall of the living room.

"This time, we're ready."

They were sublime, Ivyne thought as she absentmindedly studied their reflection, so beautiful, like two sisters.

More than their age, their biggest differences, according to Ivyne, were their hair. Whereas her mother's was jet-black, shining under the moon and stars, the young woman's hair was a radiant, almost white blond, reminiscent of the morning sun, and at this moment enhanced by this sky-blue sequined tiara.

Then she had the awful impression of déjà-vu followed by a fateful moment, so she shook her head and screamed inside like a frightened child.

The circuit-breaker exploded like a bomb, sending her parents screaming in shock.

"What was that." inquired her mother, her face tense.

"It's nothing, my precious, at least I think so," her husband replied from a distance, "go out for your evening, everything will be fixed by the time you get back."

In spite of herself, her mother laughed.

"In other words, you want to be left alone to play electrician."

"Honey...!"

"Yes, we're leaving," his wife assured him, amused, "see you later."

"Yeah, have fun."

"Thanks Dad."

The two women left and let themselves be swallowed up by the night.

Lyre Raot was a painter of some repute. Her favorite theme was night. She once told her daughter that the night was her favorite, deep and complex, where all the sins of the world were fulfilled. It's true that at night, people's moods were different, more daring, more mysterious, more attractive.

Hand in hand, mother and daughter walked along the timelessly animated avenue. The wind blew gently, carrying the scent of flowers and various artificial perfumes.

They passed their favorite places, and a little before midnight approached the station with its big clock that would soon strike twelve.

They each enjoyed an ice-cream cone while waiting at the foot of the huge clock for the fateful hour when Ivyne would finally celebrate her coming of age.

Finally, midnight struck and the strokes echoed through the soft night. For Ivyne, it was a new beginning, the start of a new stage in her life. The two women laughed and threw themselves into each other's arms. Everything was wonderful. Everything should have been perfect, so why the tears?

It took Ivyne a while to feel them, but soon she felt tears moistening her eyes and running down her cheeks.

Her mother was astonished and wiped them away with her tender fingers.

"My darling, what's going on?"

The young woman would have liked to say, but that was precisely the problem, she had no idea. She didn't know what was making her suffer so much that she was crying right there on the very threshold of her new life.

She sniffed and smiled through her tears. She had no answers for her mother or herself. She contented herself with giving an inconsequential lie.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm only moved."

"Oh, I see. I understand, darling. So am I," she added, furtively wiping away a small tear from her eyelid.

As her beloved mother jokingly told her about her eighteenth birthday party, her daughter only listened with one ear, feeling something strange again, as if the sounds of the clock had echoed other sounds from the same birthday.

She tried to fathom her torments, but eventually gave up and also told herself she was overthinking things.

Without her noticing, Lyre Raot walked behind her daughter and placed a gold necklace around her neck with a heart-shaped motif. Then she returned to Ivyne and studied her for a long moment.

"Time goes by so fast. You've grown up, now you're really eighteen, and I know that soon you'll be leaving home and going off to live your own life."

"You talk as if you're never going to see me again."

Her mother merely shrugged.

"Isn't that the case? Our children begin their lives by needing us, and then they grow up, inexorably before they leave home, go away from us..."

"But they never finish needing their parents."

She took her mother by the shoulders.

"I, for one, will never stop needing you."

Her mother smiled, overwhelmed.

"You say that, now!"

"Mom, stop it! Like I don't remember your countless Grandma visits simply because you needed something like advice, a loan, a car, or simply because you wanted to see her."

"And you're going to do what I did?"

"No, I'm going to do worse. I'll have you know I've already stolen your car."

Lyre Raot pinched her daughter before dragging her by the hand.

"You pest."

Ivyne burst out laughing. The two women sat in the park, lit up and bustling as if in broad daylight, then saw a couple voraciously kissing regardless of the location.

"I only hope they don't go through with it!" her mother grimaced comically.

"I hope they do. It would be a real adult film. The most appropriate present anyone could ever give me!"

They both burst out laughing again.

"Hey, now that I think about it, sweetie, we never really talked about your love life."

At these words, Ivyne tensed as if mortally bitten by a venomous beast.

"What?"

"You heard me perfectly well. Come on, tell me a little about your love life."

The girl felt her heart stop before resuming its explosive beating in her chest.

"Mom, I..."

"You're pretty, darling, and I know from your friends that you're popular. So...?"

"So there's nothing to say. Just because I'm popular doesn't mean I'm necessarily with someone."

She spoke with a laugh, but her mouth tasted like ashes. Literally and figuratively.