She lit a cigarette and the first smoke flew towards Serezha. The friend narrowed his eyes slightly, adjusting the collar of his black jacket. View from the needle, as if going on a date, and not to an accomplice.

- This is not the best morning, - he stomped on the spot, carefully examining her. What are those bruises on your neck?

- The main thing is not the very last morning, - she answered quietly and remembered that she planned to pull on a thin scarf. Heck. “And these are mating games,” she dismissed carelessly. But he won't touch me again. I won't be in that house again.

Seryozha...