At the same moment, in the Timone Hospital, within Marseille’s Inserm histocytology research department, Audrey was overseeing a study on turning IPS stem cells into specialized cells through changes in culture media. Even after all these years of analysis and observation, she never grew tired of watching these fundamental biological units at work. They could multiply endlessly, forming distinct biological matrices depending on the environment they were in: bone, cardiac, hepatic, epidermal cells—or any organ into which they were injected. On top of that, their in vitro multiplication allowed for the creation of actual banks of biological tissues, ready for experimentation. The possibilities were staggering; it made her head spin. Thanks to them, many vital tissues could already be repaired through regenerative medicine. Soon, though, it would be possible to replace and graft entirely lab-grown organs into patients using the very IPS cells Audrey worked on. Being able to mass-produce a liver, a lung, even a heart, to swap out a failing organ like one would replace a worn-out car part… the thought left Audrey dreamy-eyed. And unlike embryonic stem cells, these could be harvested directly from patients, sidestepping a host of ethical complications.

  “If you keep pressing your face against that microscope, you’re going to end up with permanent raccoon eyes!” said Frédéric, her most capable but also mischievous intern. He was a lanky guy in his thirties with sparkling eyes and perpetually tousled curly hair. “Have you even seen the time?”

  Audrey glanced at her wristwatch.

  “Oh wow, already noon! Time flies when you’re having fun! I love watching them multiply—it’s mesmerizing!”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “If only my neurons could multiply at the same rate, I’d finish my residency before Christmas!”

  “Why bother, Fred?” Audrey teased. “Multiply zero by infinity and you still get zero anyway!”

  “Low blow, boss,” he shot back with a grin. “I’ll remember that one!”

  “Well, if we can’t tease our interns anymore, what’s left of the world?” Audrey chuckled. “You should’ve seen your face!”

  “No, no—it’s not about your joke,” Fred defended himself. “It’s just my face when I’m hypoglycemic! I need to refuel, Commander! Permission to hit the mess hall?”

  “Granted!” Audrey said. “And don’t go overboard on the fries!”

  “At your orders, Commander! You coming?”

  “No thanks, I brought my own little lunch. And I’ll take the chance to video-call the girls.”

  “Family comes first!” the intern said, channeling Marlon Brando in The Godfather.

  “Go on, Don Cortisone!” Audrey added.

  “Enjoy your meal!” Fred finally called out as he left the lab.

  A few moments later, Audrey herself exited, stepping into a transition chamber. She washed her hands meticulously, removed her disposable cap and gown, then walked to her office, crossing the hallway that separated the modeling wing from the cellular therapy wing. There, she opened the small fridge perched between two shelves crammed with medical books and student theses, retrieved a pan-bagnat wrapped in foil and a bottle of Evian, and sat at her desk to power up her laptop. She texted her husband to let him know she was about to join a video call. The reply came almost instants: “We’re ready!” Audrey smiled, bouncing in place with anticipation at finally seeing her beloved daughters’ faces. She missed them terribly! It was astonishing, she thought, how every moment of her day—every little chore, every major task—inevitably made her think of them. It was the essence of parenthood: even when absent, children occupy our minds, a light left burning permanently in our hearts and heads.

  Suddenly, she thought of her father. Her father, who would lift her onto his knees when she was just a child, so strong she felt she could soar through the air. Her father, who tickled her feet until she begged him to stop, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Her father, who supported her as she scaled her first climbing walls during hikes through the hills of Marseille-Blanche, and who later whispered his favorite line at every competition:

  “Go on, sweetheart, go touch the stars!”

  Every time he said it, Audrey felt wings sprouting from her back. Now that she was a mother herself, she often wondered what memories her daughters would hold of her once she was gone.

  After checking her webcam and microphone, she placed the call, and on the third ring, Franck’s focused face appeared on the screen. His features relaxed the instant he realized the connection was live.

  “Hey, my love! How are you?”

  “Hey you! Good, and you guys?”

  “Perfect! The girls are out in the garden driving grandpa crazy, so we’ve got about five minutes for a private grown-up chat! How’s work?”

  “Yeah, it’s moving along, slowly but surely! The usual.”

  “I see, and you…”

  He didn’t get to finish—Zoé, the younger daughter, hair wild and sprinkled with plane tree leaves, suddenly appeared on screen shouting:

  “MOMMMMMMMMMMY!”

  “Hello, my darling,” Audrey said. “You look so beautiful!”

  “Yeah, look! I put on my crown!” the little girl said proudly.

  “I see, you look just like a real princess!”

  “No way, I’m a forest fairy!” Zoé corrected. “Like in Peter Pan!”

  “Oh, pardon, Miss Fairy! I should have guessed! And where’s your sister? Did you cast a spell on her?”

  “No, she’s coming! Wait, I’ll call her.” She turned to the right side of the screen and shouted: “LUCIE!!! Mom’s in the computer!”

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  “Easy there, little whirlwind,” Franck grimaced. “You’ll pierce my eardrums yelling like that!”

  Ignoring her father, Zoé turned back to the screen and held out her hand, palm open.

  “Look, Mom, a snail! Isn’t it beautiful? Do you think its tail can grow back like lizards if it gets cut off?”

  “Yes, it’s very beautiful, sweetheart!” Audrey confirmed. “And no, unfortunately, snails aren’t like lizards—they can’t regrow body parts! That’s why they have their nice shells to protect themselves.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Zoé pouted. “I wish it could regenate too!”

  “Regenerate,” Audrey corrected, amused. “It’s a shame, my love, but maybe one day we’ll manage it—thanks to the progress of science!”

  “Thanks to Mom’s progress, especially!” Franck added with a grin. “You know that’s exactly what she’s trying to do at work, right?”

  “Make snail tails grow back?” Zoé asked, eyes wide with wonder.

  “Among other things,” her father replied with a smile.

  Just then, a seven-year-old girl with rosy cheeks and long loose blond hair appeared on the screen.

  “And here’s my big girl, Lucie,” Audrey said, her voice full of emotion. “How are you, my love?”

  “Hi, Mom!” Lucie said. “I’m great! And you? Is Nala being good?”

  “I’m well, my sweetie, thanks. And Nala is very good, as usual!”

  “How will you feed her lunch if you’re at work?” Lucie asked.

  “You know, sweetheart, Madame Raquena brings her food. I gave her a spare key.”

  “Madame Raquena stings!” Zoé declared, perched on her father’s knees before suddenly springing to the floor in a somersault. She finished with a triumphant “olé!” and both girls burst out laughing together.

  “Alright, girls,” Franck said, slightly exasperated. “Now that Mom’s seen you’re in top form, I think it’s time for a big kiss and then off to Grandpa and Grandma for lunch.”

  “Okay!” they both said at once. “Kisses, Mom!”

  “Kisses, my loves. I love you so much!”

  “I love you, Mom,” Lucie added. “When will we see each other again?”

  “Soon, my sweetie! Just five more days and we’ll all be back together at home! In the meantime, I’m counting on you to behave well with Grandpa and Grandma, okay? And if you go on the boat, you do exactly what Grandpa tells you, alright?”

  “Promise!” said Lucie.

  “Cross-my-heart promise!” said Zoé.

  Both blew one last kiss to their mother before vanishing from the screen.

  “What energy!” Audrey exclaimed.

  “Don’t even talk to me!” Franck said. “They’re tireless.”

  “You’re handling it all, though?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got this! And I’m not alone!”

  “How are your parents, by the way?”

  “They’re doing great. Taking care of the girls really suits them. Dad has almost forgotten to complain about politicians, can you believe it? And with the nice weather here, the girls can enjoy the garden…”

  “No sailing today?”

  “No, the sailboat is being repaired. A keel problem… The technician says it should be fixed by tomorrow.”

  “You’ll take good care of my little ones, right?”

  “Of course, don’t worry. The sea’s calm at the moment. But I saw on the weather report that Marseille and the surrounding areas will be under an orange alert starting tonight. Be careful on the road, alright?”

  “Oh really?” Audrey was surprised. “But it’s been sunny all morning and…” She turned to the window for the first time that day, distracted by her research.

  “My God… it’s completely dark!” she realized. “I hadn’t noticed at all, that’s crazy!”

  “Yeah, they’re even predicting hail in some places, so be careful! And don’t forget to park the 4x4 in the garage!”

  “Yes, boss! I promise!” she said jokingly.

  “Haha! Seriously, though, watch out—the hail can do some damage.” He added with a smile:

  “I’m your little husband. It’s my duty to look after you, even from afar!”

  “And I’m grateful, darling,” Audrey said, touched. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry. And Nala? You’re not worried about her?”

  “Nala?” Franck chuckled. “Knowing her, the first drop of rain and she’ll come running through the cat flap to snuggle in her cozy bed.”

  “Exactly,” Audrey admitted. “I love you, my darling!”

  “I love you too! Talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Okay, tomorrow then!”

  “See you tomorrow, my love!”

  The screen went black. Audrey turned again to the window—the sky was pitch black as well. The first drops of rain began to splatter against the glass.