WORK

The canteen is half full, the meal service is almost coming to an end. Jeremy is sitting alone at a table, staring at his laptop screen in front of him. Sarah and Stephan join him with their laptop and some drinks. They are all wearing their uniform.

"Does the client really have to come with us?" Jeremy asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"If that's what she wants," Stephan replies dryly.

"She wants to do the job herself," Sarah adds, pointing at a ticked box on her teammate' screen. "She prepared everything herself, we just have to make sure everything goes as she wants."

"In a word, we keep his head on the ground to this idiot while Madam gives him the change," Stephan adds before continuing with a smirk. "With clients like this, you have to keep an eye open and wide because they're often out of control, and most of the time a threat to themselves."

"And unfortunately, to us too," Sarah adds seriously.

Jeremy wonders how two young people like them could have chosen to do this job, especially Sarah. Despite her strength, outstanding agility and speed, she has neither the looks nor the attitude of a killer. She has too much compassion to kill unquestioningly. Her pretty, marble-looking face seems to be in constant turmoil when the safety of others is at stake. Jeremy has watched her everywhere, in training, at meetings, and he can't help but think that she doesn't belong at Libera Justice. He doesn't belong here neither, but now it's a job that provides him with a good steady income. He feels competent enough while waiting to find more meaning to his life. He doesn't judge the company or its clients, but he thinks one must have an empty soul to act in this way on the lives of others without asking questions.

HOME

"We're home," Stephan shouts from the bottom of the stairs. Sarah heads for the kitchen where she finds their mother, her head buried inside the oven.

"We're home mum," Sarah says softly.

"I know," Nina says looking up at her daughter. "I'll never get used to this haircut."

"It's simple, there's no hair," Stephan says sarcastically, following his sister and running his hands slowly over his shaved head.

"Remind me again why shaving your head is necessary?" Nina asks dryly before adding: "So that it shines in the light like your uniform."

"Mum, we work for a private company that works in collaboration with the government. It's not like we're terrorists," Sarah begins calmly. "We have to be recognisable and visible when we're on a mission," Sarah pauses for a short moment, the she continues: "like the military."

"The military doesn't kill at the request of individuals who can afford the luxury of getting ahead of the justice system," her mother retorts.

"Ah really?" Sarah and Stephan exclaim together, their eyes widening.

"The only difference between us and the military is our clients," Stephan says as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. "And our salary," he adds smiling proudly.

THE WOMAN OF TODAY

Nina's grandmother kept telling her that life was an unscrupulous bitch whose only entertainment was to teach men to know themselves. The impossible becomes possible and the possible impossible in a fraction of a second at the will and whims of the bitch. Today, the bitch has bitten her again by snatching the love of her life from her and making her children the emblem of a system that she has always fought against. She has rebelled in her own way, without banners or songs; her choices were her main weapons and her values ​​her ammunition.

The woman of the beginning of the 21st century who used to wait for her saviour while taking her clothes off and reviewing her chart of good manners by heart is now well gone. The woman of today no longer expects anything from the world, or from men, or even from her own children. She lives to the fullest and adapts to her time without counting the minutes. Like a chameleon, she disguises herself according to her environment. She acts like a wolf when facing bears, and she behaves like a lamb when the pasture looks safe and green. The woman of today can no longer be told when it is time to live, to give birth or to die. She laughs in the face of biology and its clock. She leads religions although the latter are now prohibited. She goes and chooses how, when and with whom to live, give birth and die rather than waiting patiently for the instruction manual to be handed to her.

The woman of today is anything but nice. Tender, gentle, generous and of a unique sensitivity, all these words can certainly define her, but the word nice doesn't apply to her. The female gender stopped being nice when women finally learnt the lesson from the bitch: in the chaos of the world girls, reinvent your own definition before the world reinvents for you another one that doesn't suit you.

Sarah gently puts a hand on her mother's shoulder.

"We've set the table," she says, smiling at her mother.

"Perfect, it's ready!" Nina exclaims, turning to grab the glove on the counter.

Not all women today are like the woman of today though. Sarah, for example. A nice woman who uses her strength and talent for the benefit of greedy men and not for the causes she believes in; a sister so devoted to her brother that she chooses to follow him to his descent into hell. In fact, Nina feels a little guilty about that because she should have encouraged them younger to be more independent. They have always done everything together since their earliest childhood. The woman of today accepts her fair share of responsibility in each chapter of the book of her life. Nina trusts that the bitch will do what she ought to do when Sarah is ready. In the meantime, the bitch has been hounding onto her for the last three years, although there too, Nina trusts that the bitch knows exactly what she is doing.