Denis turns off the motor and we drift all night. At first, I'm still a little swayed. Yes, any sneeze makes me sick now, but my stomach refuses to give up those miserable crumbs of food that got into it with such difficulty. And by midnight, the nausea goes away.

- What do you think to do next? Denis suddenly breaks the silence.

"What difference does it make that I think you decide everything for me."

“I want to get out of here, I want to go home,” I mutter in response. To argue with Denis, frankly, I'm afraid. Yes, to argue with him, you need to have a real...