I told her about the heat, the motorway rest area, Marc, his firefighter’s jacket, the water bottle. She shook her head, annoyed.
— You don’t understand. These people know how to spot vulnerable people. They buy you a coffee, they do you two favors, and one day they disappear with your bank card.
“He paid for the gas, the meal, he’s even refusing to let me pay for a coffee,” I protested.
“It’s a long-term plan,” replied Sophie. “You’re naive, Mom.”
Listening to her, I understood one thing: for her, Marc would always be “those people”, an anonymous and suspicious group, no matter what he did.
A few months later, I had a bad fall in my bathroom. Lying on the tiles, unable to get up, I called Sophie.
— I’m in a meeting, Mom. Call the emergency medical services again, that’s what they’re there for.
I hung up in
