Max carefully hid his triumphant grin and, as if by chance, constantly touched me. I sat in an armchair at the table in his office and pretended not to notice how he, on top of my hands, hindering more than helping, flips through the pages on the tablet, pressing his cheek to my temple.

- There are simply too many of them.

We made the decision to mark familiar faces from the shelter in the database of accidental deaths or deaths. The number of matches found was appalling. All of them were buried in the cemetery familiar to us. I tried to share with Maxim about my own burial, but...