Curiosity is a nasty flaw...

This morning I checked my accounts and I only have three hundred euros to spend on my week-long trip to Crete. I'm still going to be the killjoy, the one who goes without, the one who prefers picnics, the one who prefers a bottle of wine on the beach rather than cocktails on the terrace. How I'd love to be the one who pays for tours one day!

In the evening, I go home and a kraft envelope is waiting for me in my mailbox. I twist it between my fingers, what can it be. Um, I don't recognize the handwriting. I'm curious, I can't wait to find out what's in it.

Not in the lobby of my building, I'm going to wait until I'm in my little cocoon. I go up the stairs four by four, the door barely opens. Come on, damn it!

I haven't even taken a step inside that my phalanges are already starting to tear the brown paper.

A letter, and a black notebook. Strange...

The cover is strangely heavy. The leather that covers it is of good quality, it smells good. I'll open it later, I'll read the letter first.

"Emilie,

There have been better days for you. If money comes and goes, know that the most important thing is to never lose sight of your inner sun and your identity.

Take a look at your bank account now. Yes now, don't delay. Otherwise you won't understand.

(I'm still reading, I'll figure it out later.)

Who am I? You won't know.

Why this amount of money? To teach you a little lesson.

Where does the money come from? What is its history? You won't know until you read the whole notebook.

Don't smile too quickly, every time you open the notebook, every time you turn a page, five hundred euros will be deducted from the money.

And if you're tempted to read only the end of it, know that I've mixed up all the pages.

Isn't it said that curiosity is an ugly flaw?

Enjoy your vacation.

Someone who wants you well. “

I shake my head, is this a bad joke or what? I throw myself on my phone to consult my account. 20,345 euros. I can't believe it. I blink several times.

I put down the letter, I turn to the notebook, I weigh it down, I caress the cover. It's so tempting. Opening it, just once, just to see if it's true.

With my eyes fixed on my account, I open the first page. The number at the top of the page says 46. It's page 46, the bugger has really mixed everything up.

One last look at my bank account, and I start reading. This page has no head or tail for me. The characters are unknown to me, and I don't understand what's at stake. The style is pleasant and the reading makes me want to continue.

But first, I have to check, I update my account. - 500 euros.

What?!! So it was true? I throw the notebook on my coffee table. How is that possible? How can he know? Did he put cameras here? I open the curtains looking for an answer. No neighbors at their windows.

A shiver runs through me, it becomes terrifying.

The next day, the vacations begin. My flight is in the afternoon. I repack my suitcase several times, my eyes can't help landing on the little black notebook. I grab it, and I stuff it between a skirt and a T-shirt, I have to tell my friends about it. They may have the solution.

And then, if the ... I do not even know how to call him ... the benefactor? Yes, if the benefactor spies on me, once he's on the other side of Europe, he'll have a hard time knowing my every move.

I check my accounts again, the 19,845 euros are still there. Unbelievable.

I hurry to meet my friends at the airport, I take the subway and the train, I'm still not sure if those thousands of euros are real. On the plane, I act as if nothing had happened, but I'm a bit absent. Like an old love that one tries to forget, the notebook is constantly on my mind.

Arriving at the Airbnb, we decide to spend the evening outside. I still haven't mentioned the notebook to them. We take several rounds and a few small sweets to taste. Life is sweet and the air is just warm enough on this spring evening. The small square is charming. The conversation is going well, our loves, our work problems, our desires, our dreams, everything goes there. Everything, except the notebook. I don't know why, I don't dare to talk to them about it.

Maybe because deep down, I know that I didn't deserve this money, and that like me, they will have doubts about where it came from.

Then, with the help of alcohol, the question that was burning my friend Melanie's lips comes up. "Emilie, you're always a bit on the money line, with your washing machine and everything, and tonight you're behaving like a big princess, you're chaining up the drinks without even looking at the prices. Well ok, it's not expensive, but we're going to get some for more than 40 euros each. So don't pretend for us, and you know that Caro, Julie and I are also up for a bottle on the beach, right?!".

I don't have a choice anymore, it's time to tell them my secret. I summarize the situation, and as a proof, I show them my account, the 20 000 euros then the 500. They doubt, they look at me curious and scared. We then decide to go back home.

They observe the letter and the notebook for long minutes, without daring to open it. "This story is crazy," exclaims Julie." Melanie asks in a small voice, if she can try, if she can open the notebook. "Wait, Melanie, it's 500 euros anyway, and it's Emilie's...". Says Caro.

I hand the notebook to Mélanie, I want to know if here too the 500 euros will disappear, and if it's someone else, if it's not me?

Melanie opens it carefully in the middle. Page 27 and page 70, she reads the contents in a clear voice. We understand nothing of this story. Even the characters do not seem the same as those mentioned on page 46 .

"Shall we continue?" asks Melanie. "Wait a minute," I tell her, I reconnect to my account and almost instantly 500 new euros have disappeared. I give them the phone. There is no more noise in the room.

"It's like a horror movie, your thing," exclaims Julie. "Burn the notebook and don't use that money anymore, it's going to end badly". "Hide this notebook and enjoy your 19,345 euros with us! Forget where it comes from, and tell yourself that it's a good thing". replies Caro.

'Roh, really? Aren't you curious to know?" Melanie says excitedly.

The rest of the evening stretches out, the enthusiasm gives way to a big argument. Caro calls Melanie a spoiled child, Melanie calls Julie a coward, and Julie calls Caro a greedy girl. Everyone leaves to go to bed camping on their positions. I keep the notebook, I hide it in the back of a closet.

The next day, everyone apologizes and we go back to our usual vacation system. Picnic and bottle on the beach. In the company of my friends, it's just as pleasant as drinking elaborate cocktails in a trendy bar.

However, on the way home, the subject of the notebook comes back on the table. The arguments have given way to fear or curiosity. If I've been thinking about it all day, I'm not the only one.

This damned notebook will end up ruining our vacations. But none of us agree on how to proceed, and being the owner of the notebook, I make the decision.

I'm only going to use some of this money during this vacation, not much, a thousand euros maximum, to enjoy with them. Then I will get rid of the notebook. If Melanie wants to dissect it afterwards, I would give it to her. All right, I'll give it to her.

The next few days are light, I don't even check my account, I live lightly, I don't overspend, just what it takes to live lightly. Yet my mind is far from being light. I feel the weight of curiosity. Every night, I am tempted to open my closet.

Sometimes I take the notebook between my fingers and turn it around. It obsesses me, I have imagined a thousand reasons, a thousand stories. I dream of knowing what it contains, what secret, what revelation.

The day before departure, we go out late, the carefree vacation has sent us to the dance floor, kissing Cretans, laughing and dancing to old hits from the 2000s. It's a beautiful evening. Around two o'clock in the morning, Melanie comes home, pretending to be tired. The apartment is only a stone's throw away.

Finally, forty minutes later, we decide to go back to our turn to have a last drink on the terrace.

The apartment is deserted, we don't make any noise. We settle down with a bottle of white wine under the stars. The air is fresh, I leave in my room to catch a sweater. A strange glow illuminates the bottom of my room, I shout and turn on the light of the ceiling lamp.

Melanie sits there, looking terrified. Hands on either side of the cursed notebook. Looking guilty, she stammers out a few inaudible words. I understand her curiosity so well. Yes, I am angry, but the desire to undo it with this notebook is so strong.

Caro and Julie have joined us, what's going on? Melanie tries to justify herself, she knows she has just been caught at fault.

The girls start shouting at each other. I don't want to end the vacations in this atmosphere.

So I ask them an innocent question, if I run out of money, will they lend me money?

"Have you spent it all?" Caro asks haggardly. "Of course not... But this notebook is a pain, I want to know, you all want to know... Well maybe Melanie a little more than everyone else...". With her headlamp on her face, she nods her head, and we all burst out laughing.

We spend the whole night on the notebook, taking pictures, putting the pages back in order. And we end up reading this story out loud. It's a joyful moment, a real investigation.

The story is that of several friends separated by money and reunited by curiosity, it could apply to us. It doesn't tell us where the money comes from or who sent it to me.

"It's frustrating though, isn't it? Don't you want to know?" Melanie grunts.

We nod. "It's an investigation that will wait for Paris!", and we go to bed.

The last day is light and sumptuous, friendship is at its peak and we couldn't dream of a better end to our stay.

The 20 000 euros never reappeared. We spent several months looking for the sender, but no one ever solved this mystery?

Our friendship has only grown stronger since that day. And if today, I am asked if curiosity is a bad flaw, I would answer as soon as it is not...