The good news is that the handsome man is as delighted as I am. After the usual greetings to the person in charge, we head for the construction site. Maltez asks me what I'm doing here. I'm the first girl who wants to work on this project. As he asks me politely, I answer in the same tone that I used to love helping my grandfather to maintain our house. Of all the charitable activities, this seemed to be the best for me.

I warn him that I don't expect to be doing interior design, but breaking down walls and working in the dust and dirt. He smiles with the look of a brat about to do something stupid and mischievously tells me that I smell like a nag all the time so it won't change my smell much. He's looking for me. He'll find me, but not right away. I want to see the yard first. Besides, I don't care if I stink. It keeps some of the jerks away.

The manager gives us a briefing. The house we're renovating has been abandoned for several years. The previous owner died in it. It took a year before his body was discovered. It took two years before the heirs were found and the house was put up for sale. The school bought it for a pittance. We have to renovate it and bring it up to standard to house a disadvantaged family of a widow with three children including a baby a few months old who are currently living in a hostel. I'm excited about the idea, it's the kind of project I really like.

The garden is small and full of thistles, ivy and other rubbish. The pathway leading to the entrance is overgrown with weeds. It is a mini rainforest. An open-air dump. The manager delegates five guys to the outside. To clear the brush, pull the weeds, remove the rubbish. He wants to give the house an exterior again. I am pleased to see Alex, the roommate of our three friends, appointed head of the garden section. The little I know of him is that he is a conscientious person, very calm and loving nature. Among the delegated workers, I see Thibaut who winks at me. Before leaving to join his group, he begs me in my ear to be good and kind to Maltez.

The manager then tells us about the interior. The load-bearing walls are sound and so is the roof. The interior is littered with rubbish and full of rats. Mould is growing on the walls. Everything has to be taken out and cleaned. He plans to break down the non-load-bearing interior walls and rebuild the walls. The electricity, plumbing and insulation all need to be changed. The volunteer workers will also have to repair any cracks or dents in the walls and then paint the surfaces. Only the load-bearing walls and the roof will remain.

— I hope you're not afraid of the dirty rats, one of the boys says to me.

— If I was afraid of dirty rats, I wouldn't be here with you, male, I reply in the same tone.

I feel Maltez put his hand on my shoulder. I don't know if it's a sign to the guy or to hold me back.

— Megan is under my protection, Garcia. Touch her and I'll blow you away. That goes for all of you. Stay away or you'll taste my fists. And you, Farmer... Please be nice and only pick a fight with me. I promised Blaise to look after you.

I look at Damien and give him a nice sincere smile of thanks. He sighs. He already knows I'm going to be difficult to deal with. I appreciate his protective gesture. He and I are like cats and dogs, but we respect each other. We both love Blaise and Thibaut. He has intervened several times to keep Musclor or other little bastards away who were scaring my Kawai or seconds.

He's grumpy, cantankerous, scathing and acidic. Like me, in fact. Maltez is also protective, intelligent and a true leader. I respect him for that. I just can't stand him. No, actually, I can't stand him without wanting to gut him. I'm sure he'll take advantage of the lack of authority over me that comes with his position to bust my chops. This is going to be a long and difficult job, I can feel it.

I head inside the building alongside Maltez. He makes me wear a mask for the flying mould. With other guys, we move the furniture and rubbish. Although I'm not a weak girl, I can't compete with the power of athletic seventeen-year-old boys. I help as much as I can and spare no effort. I go out with bags and boxes of my own. I do my share of work efficiently. Most of the guys are nice to me when they see how dedicated and efficient I am. Soon we are delayed in our progress by rat attacks.

Maltez has given me a mission that I can handle. He charges me with pushing the bugs back and preventing them from biting others while they carry heavy loads. In ninja mode, I chase the rats away with a broom. I put on my riding boots in case a rat has the bad idea to attack me. The few kamikazes are ejected into the air by a broom before reaching me or one of the guys I'm defending.

I make the group laugh a little. I dazzle them with my speed. Even Maltez smiles at one of my shouts of victory. I think I have an existential problem with rats. I get a lot of pleasure out of countering them and making them fly. Although it's super tempting, I take it upon myself not to send them to the creep or to Maltez for the sake of our charity.

As a joke and to brighten up Maltez's worried face, I whistle a mime of sending rats to the creep and the innocent child's pose that follows to Maltez who scolds me with a beautiful smile which I return. He appreciates that I stay quiet and don't let my vengeful instincts take over out of respect for his work. I appreciate that he lets me act like a fool and supports my childish nonsense which has the advantage of lightening the work atmosphere.

No bite on the morning. I ended up abandoning the broom for a shovel. The rats were too numerous and keeping them away was not enough. They were coming back like rabid rabbits. With a blow of the shovel in the face and then a sharp blow on the neck, they were less of a nuisance. About thirty rat corpses formed a victory pile on Garcia's lunch bag. Maltez watched me pick up and pile the corpses all morning. He just sighed and shook his head, laughing softly.

In a few hours, we clear the ground floor of dirt and furniture. On one side, the furniture or materials to be repaired and cleaned, on the other side the big dumpster already almost full. Before the lunch break, the manager asks Maltez to install a tube to empty the rubbish from the first floor directly into a second skip this afternoon.

I go with him to help. The floor is littered with rubbish piled up without logic. It's dark, it stinks horribly. We only have a weak torch to find the switches. Maltez tries all the ones we can find without success. I then suggest, as a lady with good balance, that we climb over the rubbish to open the windows and shutters. We'll get some light and then hopefully get rid of the stench. With his heart in his mouth, he accepts my solution and points the torch in the direction of the first window.

Light and agile, I arrive at my destination in no time. A few rats flee at my approach without trying to attack me. The closer I get to the window, the stronger the smell becomes. It stings my nose through the mask. My eyes water. I can't identify it. It smells like rotting meat, but with something more acidic.

I start coughing, which makes other rats run away. Maltez is worried and asks me questions. I tell him that the smell is getting worse, but that it's okay, I'm holding on for now. I put my hand on the window handle. The fresh air gives me strength. My breakfast will stay in my stomach. I open the shutter wide to let in light and fresh air.

A crazy animal scream immediately spikes our eardrums and puts me on the alert. An indefinable shape jumps on me and tries to bite my calf. It knocks me backwards onto the filth.