It seems to be the time and date. The pictures are not of very good quality, blurry, some are completely black and white, but leave no room for doubt - I see Demyan Belov on them, and judging by the dates, he really was alive a week ago. I grab the pictures and start looking at them.

Here he is at the ATM, his hair is still cut short, his cheekbones are pointed, his face is hard, as if hewn from stone, but it does not seem painful, Demyan looks healthy, he purposefully moves somewhere in the pictures. The view of the houses around doesn't tell me anything, but apparently it's not Russia. It looks like Europe.

- How? Where is it? I babble.

“We will explain everything to you, Vera,” Anna Vitalievna says soothingly. Let's tell you why you came. Are you alone? Are you waiting for anyone?

“No,” I shake my head in response. Whom should I wait? In this world, I am forgotten by everyone and no one needs me. And uninvited guests cause anger, even rage. Yes, I am unhappy and poor, lonely, and there is not a single gap ahead, but to mock me like that ...

- Good. Vera, when you become a mother, you will understand that parents are ready for anything for the sake of their child. He is our only one. So it happened. So... when I got sick... We tried everything, but nothing helped. You know yourself. But one day people came to us. It was illegal, very risky, and we were not given any forecasts. Yet we seized this last chance. We sent our boy to a research center to try a new drug. As you can see, he is alive and seems to be even healthy. But we are worried. Demyan does not want to communicate with us. Only via the Internet, no telephone conversations, asks to send money, does not send photos, does not say anything about health, only “normal” and “nothing” ... - Belova stammers. I see that it is hard for her to tell, and there is no way to doubt the words of the unfortunate mother.

God, is Demyan really alive? Hope flares up in me like a small, timid spark. I can’t even move, inside everything trembles from long-forgotten, buried feelings that can’t wait to come to life. I have to think soberly, not to succumb to emotions. Probably, someone breeds Belovs for money. I peer at the photos again, look in more detail, looking for inconsistencies. Aren't they suspicious? Some person impersonates their son, they do not hear voices, they do not receive photos from him, but they send money! It becomes unbearably sorry for them, but someone must open their eyes to the truth.

"And you don't think it's suspicious?" And what are these photos? Are you following him? - I can’t say: “Demyan”, because for me he is still dead.

Why shouldn't we believe if we know he's alive? exclaims Ignat Alekseevich. Vera, you just don't see the full picture. Let me explain everything to you again, without unnecessary emotions. - With these words, he looks at his wife, as if implying that women are always overly emotional and biased. Our son was terminally ill. Since we are not burdened with material problems, we were able to find an experimental way to save Demyan. The risk was justified, but for everyone Demyan died, we had to organize a fake funeral. But when everything seemed to be left behind and Demyan recovered, he did not return home. We have prepared for him a place where he can live in peace, without fear of being discovered. There is no need for him to live in another country, away from us. We are worried, but we cannot do anything ourselves, we are afraid to harm him with our appearance, therefore we ask you, Vera, go under the guise of a patient to this medical center and find out where the cured people go after him. Maybe they sign a special non-disclosure agreement with them, or something like that. We'd love for you to find out. And, to be honest, they lured Demyan onto themselves. He had feelings for you. He will not be able to pass by when you find yourself in Wroclaw, and that is where the center is located.

“Wait,” I said, shaking my head to stop the monologue. - So you know where the medical center is located. You know that Demyan lives in this city. Follow him. Why do you need me? Let any person hired by you go to contact with him. Well ... or with the one who claims to be him - I can not resist the advice that just suggests itself. The substitution of Demyan's personality fits perfectly into the version that seems to me the only true one. It is obvious to me that the Belovs are being deceived, led by the nose, otherwise their own son would certainly have contacted them. What could prevent their alleged son, except for the danger of being accused of fraud?

“It doesn’t matter, Vera,” Belov frowns. We are afraid for our son! What if we put him in danger if we come? Who knows how it will end? No wonder he hides from us like that. You are not officially connected with Demyan, you will not look for him directly, but will only go under the guise of a patient in order to find out the information we need. You risk nothing, but in return you will receive an amount of money that will greatly improve your living conditions. How much are you getting now, Vera? Ten thousand maximum? How long do you plan to change old people's diapers and clean up the ships after them?

But I did not allow insulting my honest work as a nurse in a nursing home ...

“No matter how much I earn, Ignat Alekseevich does not concern you,” I say firmly, sighing intermittently. These two, with their crazy nonsense, have worn me out. But suddenly I remember how, returning home from a disgusting job, entering an empty gloomy apartment, I dream of at least some change in my dull life. Wouldn't this visit change everything?

“You shouldn’t boil, Vera,” Anna Vitalievna says softly, “you are a beautiful girl, but you are still not married, and the years are running. You won’t notice how you find yourself at the age when a woman, having not found a life partner, gets used to loneliness ...

"I'm only twenty-two years old!" - I want to exclaim, but the truthful words spoken, like huge cold stones, press down to the ground, and I am silent, swallowing unbidden tears.

“Well, beauty is nothing without a certain gloss. And you don’t have enough to hide it ...

The color of shame fills the cheeks. It’s not shameful to be poor, but I don’t like to listen to reproaches that I don’t dress well. But still I am silent, humbly accepting the rebuke of a stranger who crosses the boundaries. How pathetic am I...

- Buy yourself new outfits, transform, go to study further, because you left medical school to take care of your sick father. And before that, in childhood, they took care of their mother. You had neither childhood nor youth, and now you are looking after your grandmother in a nursing home. They sacrificed their future. But you have such abilities, such potential! Do you think Demyan could endure many nurses? You were our tenth! And only you, Vera, managed to tame our son, provide him with not only qualified medical care, but also human participation. You brightened up his illness. And now you are exchanging your gift for old people ... You need to study, you can become a doctor. Improve your living conditions, move your grandmother here from the nursing home, hire a nurse. New life, Vera, it's in your hands! All you have to do is agree to our offer. Do you want to travel? Also please.

- I agree.

- Go, for example, to Paris. Who does not dream of ... Do you agree?

- Yes. I'll go, - I say quickly so as not to change my mind.

- Fine! - Ignat Alekseevich rubs his hands. "Then let's act now." Tomorrow they will bring you documents in a new name, a medical card with your “disease”, tickets, money. Departure the day after tomorrow. Our people will accompany you. One of them will introduce himself as your husband, the other as your brother.

“You have provided for everything,” I say coldly, realizing that my consent was nominal and everything had already been prepared in advance. Am I really so spineless that the Belovs did not think about failure at all? Realizing this is painful and unpleasant, but I switch my thoughts to a thousand little things that accompany the trip in general and the details of this particular one in particular. I am seized with jitters, excitement, I am afraid that I will not be able to cope and let me down. The sense of responsibility inherent in me, diligence is connected. I am in the usual state of a hired employee who, by all means, will do his job perfectly. That's how I'm made.

- Do not think that we were counting on a quick agreement, Vera, - as if understanding my feelings, Belov softens the situation. - The documents were almost ready, but if you did not agree, then we would have curtailed everything. Nobody is forcing you. But it may be that you yourself want to find Demyan?

Chapter 2. Faith. Let's hit the road

Still, it is not in vain that they say that happiness is not in money, but in their quantity. The ability to not limit oneself in means gives freedom. I had no idea that I was so obsessed with my lack of money. When a day later I receive a ready-made Schengen visa, a passport, other documents in the name of Zlata Mstislavovna Izmailova, tickets to Warsaw and a medical card, fear again covers me, fetters my arms and legs.

What if I don't make it? Apparently, I will have to impersonate a rich girl, but it seems to be written on me that the family is peasants and poor people up to the seventh generation. But maybe I came up with it myself? After Anna Vitalievna and I bought up half the store, after trying on a bunch of outfits, I begin to feel at least worthy.