Ok, first, the time jump. Episodes 1 to 42 were written when I was 19, in 2022. Half or so of episode 43 was also written back in 2022, but then, life got in the way.

That possible date with a person I liked which I mentioned? It worked. I dated them for a good, what, 2 years? We were in college together, and they even accepted to try naturism and shared it a little. I mean, when your hot girlfriend (hey, I think I am hot) tells you she wants to spend her time naked with you, it's not that difficult to twist your arm.

But then, they graduated and went across the country for their job, and I was left in class alone. We tried to make it work long distance, it didn't. The one thing that they did not support, however, was this book.

It didn't make much sense back then, but now, I think I know why. I won't spoil the details, but I think they were worried they would be in the book. Fine, they won't be, I will respect their wishes, but I will return to the book anyway.

So, I am now, well, 22, and in early 2025. Out of college, in a job I love. It's not writing books, which is what I hoped to do, but it's my second-best option.

Just a few notes. First, Lucy and Clark got married. Here, not in France. I was there. With my ex, of course, and it was a nude wedding. Beautiful ceremony.

Second, Edith was there. I know, I am spoiling that she survived. She is doing better, a lot better. Enough that she was nude too, and with her boyfriend. We like him. More on that later. Not quite a naturist, neither of them, but they wanted to fit. And yes, she became a smoothie to hide the pussy hair she hated back when she was 14.

There were other developments, but I will leave that for future chapters.

Oh, and the couscous from Clara? I got it down to almost fooling her that it's hers. Almost. To me, it's perfect, and I can have it anytime I want, even when away.

Anyway, we did have a lazy Sunday. It was fun until the phone rang.

My mother answered she was closer and made it clear it was the police officer.

My father and I got dressed in a hurry, but when Edith took the phone, my mother joined us.

It took less than 10 minutes for two officers to be in our home, which didn't look at all like three-quarters of the people were nude just 10 minutes earlier.

The detective left his card to my father, but I don't recall his name. It's not like I was cited to a trial or anything. I never even met Edith's father.

They asked for a private place to talk, and my parents offered that the three of us go downstairs.

That suited them, even if Edith would have preferred company.

It took almost 2 hours before one of the two officers asked if he could talk to us.

In short, he wanted to know what we knew. I told him the little that I did know, but he admitted it was more hearsay.

But he had an ulterior motive. Would my parents agree to serve as a temporary host family until they could make sure that Edith was safe.

"Sure, we offered it to her earlier, we already had her sleepover twice due to parental failure. We feed her, and she even has some clothes here for emergencies", said my mom.

"Ok, we will have a social worker come over in perhaps an hour so they can evaluate the situation, and, well, we will leave in a few minutes. My partner is only going over Edith's long-term options now, but when asked where she wanted to spend the night, she didn't hesitate and named here as her first choice"

"We love a lot. She is a good kid in a bad family. There wasn't much we could do, but what we could, we did"

"Did you ever consider being a host family?"

"Detective? I will put this plainly. We are not a host family. We are not volunteering to take care of a troubled teenager. This is us stepping up for our daughter's friend. A girl we almost consider a daughter", says my mother.

"Good. I don't have anything more for you. I will go upstairs and finish up. You can come if you want"

We followed him, and I noticed that Edith was crying. I ran to her and hugged her.

"Are you ok?"

"No, but I will be"

My mother stepped up. "You can stay here for as long as you need"

"Actually, she can stay here for as long as CPS thinks it's needed", says the cop who went downstairs with us.

"Surely, she has a say", says my Dad.

"Maybe, but it's up to CPS to decide. Not us."

The other cop, the one that stayed with Edith, spoke up. "When her mother came to us, she sent Edith to you. That's a big factor in the decision".

But then he turns to Edith and asks: "Do you need us to stay until the social worker arrives?"

"No, I am safe here. Safer than at home. They take good care of me"

"Good. We will leave you, but you have my card, and if you can't reach me, 911 will be able to help you if anything occurs. I know, kids are taught not to call 911 in vain, but this isn't one of those cases."

They leave, and Edith bursts again in tears. I hug her, and my parents tell her that she can stay for as long as she needs.

Now, there is a rule in fiction. The law of coincidence. You cannot have a coincidence help the protagonist. It's lazy writing, and well, it's better to create a reason behind the coincidence.

But this is an autobiography. Other than the fact that I am an unreliable narrator and that I patch things when my memory falters, this is more or less what happened in real life. I mean, did Edith burst into tears right after the cops left, or was it when my parents reassured her? Well, does it really matter? I suppose it does, but it was about 10 years ago. I was twelve and I am 22 now.

So, if you think this is lazy writing, sue me. Because it did occur. But it's not like it thoroughly changed the story. Even if this coincidence hadn't occurred, the outcome would have been the same. Just trust me.

So. back in the past, when we met Billy, there were parents with 3 kids, including a cute 7-year-old girl named Cheryl. Mindy and I interacted a little with Cheryl, and I had, like, maybe one short conversation with their parents. Not really noteworthy, right?

Well, about 30 minutes after the cops left, the social worker arrived, and she is Cheryl's mother, who knows my parents a little from when they sneaked out of the house to go to the non-landed club. Well, not sneaked. They had a "date night".

At least, they knew each other on a first-name basis, and it helped break the ice. She has a job, and that's her job. Social workers can be naturists. Even those working for child protective services.

There were a ton of questions, and she inspected the house, including making sure that Edith would have her own room. She could sleep over with me, but she needed a room. We had one. It was a guest room that sort of doubled as a home gym with a stationary bike and an air walker, which my parents sometimes used. That room too had a privacy lock, and I now realized that they probably exercised in the nude. Back when I was 12, I didn't care about that kind of exercise, but I went to the gym in college to work out (with my ex, who was sort of a gym rat) and now, I have an air walker too. I use it a lot.

Anyway, the room was deemed acceptable, rules were set, and a contract was signed, but Edith and I took that time to move her clothes, which were in my closet, into her room, not really paying attention to what was happening with the adults.

It took over an hour, and I even got my own set of questions, such as what I was thinking about having Edith move in with me, and what I thought about her. In short, I was thrilled. I had begun considering her a half-sister, and well, I really wanted to help her out.

But the social worker spent a lot of time with Edith too. Right, her name is Carmen. They were sitting on Edith's new bed, with the door closed.

My parents told me that Carmen doesn't know if this is a few days kind of thing, or a few months or even a few years kind of situation. That they would get money from the state, but that they would put it "in the jar", for Edith to have a better life.

They made sure too I was fine with it, but I wasn't fine. I was thrilled. Mindy was still my best friend, in a way, but Edith was something else. My half-sister. Mindy was the girl I wanted to play with. The girl I wanted to hang out at school with, the one who inspired me. Edith was my constant, my base. The one I could play a video game with for a few hours while barely saying a word. The one who could tell me anything and who I could tell anything to. You might think that this makes Edith my best friend. And you are not wrong. Today, she is. Not that I am not close to Mindy, but Edith was there for me in my last breakup. I was there when she began to date, helping her. We had double dates. But when you are 12, it's activities that seem to matter more than complicity.

I had more fun with Mindy. I had more complicity with Edith. Not that Edith didn't like Mindy. I think she felt the same way. The truth is, of the three of us, Mindy was the most fun to do things with. She was always excited and positive. She still is! Don't mistake me, it's just, now, I want adult friends who are more serious. No. Introverted. There. Edith can be, but Mindy is too extroverted.

Carmen soon left, and Edith begged us to undress so she could feel safe.

My mother cooked supper. It was now rather late for us, and Edith and I just played Animal Crossing while it cooked.

Fine, I played, she stayed lying on the floor, motionless with her head on my lap, staring at the television with little emotion shown.

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