Are you okay?

" Still no light at the end of the tunnel?"

A few days later, Anja enters the small kitchen of my café and joins me at the worktop, where I am currently creating new chocolate tarts. I only discovered my passion for baking a few months ago and have since indulged it as often as I can.

"No, not really," I reply and spread the sweet and richly calorie icing on the round dough bases. "The appointment with the Antichrist isn't until next month, and if I don't manage to negotiate a lower rent, then I'll have to sell my body in the evening to get more money."

Smiling, she brushes a few loose strands of my blond hair behind my ears and hides them under the hair net. “Maybe the Antichrist lets talk to him. Always think positively, you know. "

"I find it very difficult at the moment."

When the tartlet is finished, I stuff almost the whole piece into my mouth so that the chocolate taste can conjure up the lost happiness hormones. I close my eyes enjoying myself and sigh softly. You can always rely on chocolate.

"I could remind you of something that will make you forget your worries about the café for a while," Anja begins.

I look at my big sister in surprise and see the sparkle in her hazel brown eyes, which are so similar to mine. "Oh yes? What? "

"This Saturday, for example."

"What's this Saturday?" I ask hesitantly. "Any birthday that I forgot in all the stress?"

"Not a birthday, but a very memorable event." She waits a moment to increase the tension and finally comes out with the language: "Sandy's wedding."

Sandy's wedding. Those two words are enough to send an uncomfortable chill down my spine. Sandy is our cousin, who used to want to be part of our sworn team of three and was terribly jealous that we had such an intimate relationship with each other - and still do. She always tried to be the center of attention and got a fit of tantrum every time she failed and people turned to the three blonde sisters rather than a badly colored ex-brunette. Nothing against brown hair, I myself have often wished I had dark hair because as a blonde you can be pigeonholed so easily as a blonde, but Sandy is just a jealous beast, for whom you can hardly find nice words. And although we were always as friendly as possible to her because we are related and it is not in our nature to treat someone badly for no reason, she has never shown herself to be grateful or loyal to us wherever she could make it look bad.

This very beast actually managed to get a poor fool hooked and put a ring on his finger. And now we three Leimann sisters will show up at their wedding and get the satisfaction pressed on their faces from her that she is a married woman and that we will apparently remain single forever.

"Tonight is the last dance lesson with Clemens", Anja continues and gets me out of my thoughts. "Don't forget that, or Aunt Betty will tear your head off."

Aunt Betty - or Elisabeth, the terrible - is Sandy's mother and has ordered everyone in the family to take part in standard dance lessons so that we don't embarrass ourselves on the dance floor in front of the groom's relatives.

"I still have so much to do," I moan, wondering whether I should risk skipping the dance class and incurring the wrath of the goddess of revenge Betty on me. I decide against it because I am far too tired and drained and would hardly have a chance to defend myself if Aunt Betty or Sandy should stamp me in the ground for my absence from class. “But I'll be there. It's actually quite funny to watch Clemens dance in his tight lederhosen. ”

And so this evening we are in a rented gym with a bunch of other Leimanns and follow Clemens' instructions while his leather butt prances around us and here and presses against a back there.

My dance partner is our younger brother. Leon drove all the way here to make sure not to miss the event - or to avoid Aunt Betty's anger, as I do. He actually lives at the other end of town, near our father, in whose company he is doing his study-related internship. I miss Leon very much because I see him so seldom, because we both had a really good rapport since we were little. I love my sisters and I couldn't get on better with them, but sometimes you just need a man's opinion and Leon is never afraid to say straight out what he thinks. We're both pretty much alike, even if he thinks more carefully before opening his mouth, when I wear my heart on my tongue far too often.

"You look pretty wrung out, Em," says Leon, when Clemens and Elisabeth, the terrible, allow us a little break.

"Doesn't sound like a compliment," I reply with a smile, and take a long swig from my water bottle.

"Are you okay?"