The day was drawing to a close. Tomorrow I have to go to the clinic for seven days, but I don't know what to do with Katyusha. The temperature rose intermittently, but not to such an extent that she needed to call an ambulance. And with whom to leave a five-year-old child during my absence, I also did not know. By evening, I felt like a surviving lemon. It is already customary that there was a knock on the door and Maxim appeared on the threshold. She wanted to say hello to him, but in surprise she pressed her hand to her lips. He had a strange, untidy appearance and...