- Damn abyss! - Valentina drained a glass of beer in a few sips and began to gnaw on a fish backbone, spitting small bones into her palm.

The news was silently playing on the TV screen, and it was not clear who Valentina was addressing: her niece or the deputies silently sitting on the screen.

- Where can I save money for these trips of yours, theaters, cinema? Not a school, but a den! They teach you, they teach you, but there is no sense! She waved - it's time to work, and she keeps procrastinating her books and sorting out rags. Why are you keeping silent?

Olya, clasping her sharp elbows, stood opposite her aunt, lowering her eyes to the floor. She already regretted a hundred times that she asked about this ill-fated trip to the house of culture, where for once the regional troupe arrived. She knew, after all, that her aunt would not allow it anyway, and it would take several weeks to grind this event. And it wasn't even about the money. Valentina, the director of the most popular Ogonyok restaurant in their city, could afford not just a ticket to the theater, but the entire troupe for individual week-long tours. But Valentina Semyonovna was absolutely indifferent to the plays, and of all the creative personalities known to her, she respected only Yesenin for his poems “I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry.”

Her aunt did not love her and did not try to love her. This became clear immediately, but Olya did not cause painful experiences. In public, everything looked perfect. Her heavy hand fell on the girl's head, and hackneyed tearful phrases uttered in a cracked, hoarse voice rushed in recitative. "Blood" and "orphan" stood nearby, trembling in fright, when Valentina grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her from side to side, showing how she bakes and cries for her niece. Valentina Semyonovna was Olga's only relative. A great-aunt by her father, whom she did not really know until her parents died: in the evening they drove from the dacha on a passing truck in the back, they were carrying potatoes. And they didn't get there. On a slippery road after rain, the driver lost control and flew into a ditch. That autumn, Olga turned nine years old.

The girl began to live in Valentina's two-room apartment, in a small dark corner, the size of a wardrobe, overlooking the wall of the bakery. What happened to her parents' apartment, Olya did not know and did not ask. She generally tried once again not to disturb her aunt. A small suitcase with her clothes moved into an old wardrobe, and a box with school supplies on the desk. In the box, Olya found photographs of her parents and some little things that belonged to them. For this alone she was grateful to Valentina, but she did not ask for more. Everything is better even with such relatives than in an orphanage.

At school, they felt sorry for her for some time, and then gradually everything was forgotten, and the girl was left alone with her grief. In provincial towns, where everyone knows everything about everyone and is ready to discuss and grind up any case or event that goes beyond the ordinary, it is difficult for such natures as Olenka Valeeva to live. Many considered it their duty, eagerly looking into her eyes, to ask: what is it like for her poor and unhappy now without parents, and then, sighing sadly, savor the details of that accident and funeral, which she did not remember well.

Olya tried to avoid such meetings and conversations. My aunt did not allow friends to visit, so communication with peers was limited to school and the road through the common yard. Valentina loaded her niece with housework, fortunately, she almost didn’t have to cook. Products Valentina Semyonovna brought from the restaurant. Cleaning, washing and ironing did not irritate Olya. She quickly did it and is free for her favorite pastime - the girl is addicted to sewing, and over time she put her aunt's entire wardrobe in order.

Valentina came late and, as a rule, drunk. She talked loudly to herself, dropped furniture, woke up Olya. I lectured for ten minutes for educational purposes. Then suddenly she began to sing or sob. The girl could never predict the development of events. Quietly persuading, Olya persuaded her relative to lie down on a wide ottoman, and then she suffered for a long time in an attempt to fall asleep under a deep, not at all feminine, snoring. For several years, Olya almost got used to this course of things. She did not resent her aunt. I even regretted it.

She was just a little girl. Silly naive child.

- God, what a fool I was! Idiot ... - Olga climbed the stairs in the hope that Artyom was still sleeping and would not see her in such a state. I needed to be alone, gather my thoughts and strength. Weigh everything, make a decision, come to terms with future losses ...

Eight years! For eight fucking years, Olga tried to live in such a way that no one and nothing reminded her of the past. After all, she doesn't owe anyone anything. She tried to forget everything. She forgave everyone. Everyone, but not yourself.

- Lyolka, is that you? - Artyom's snorting and the sound of water could be heard from behind the half-open door to the bathroom.

- I! Why did you get up? It's too early! Olga looked at her reflection in the mirror and tried to smile. His lips curled up, making his face even more haggard. Even her hair, which in the morning was still lying in a shiny wave, now hung in a dull tow.

Bare feet slapped on the floor, and Artyom, with a towel on his hips, looked out into the corridor. Substituting his unshaven cheek for a kiss, he seemed not to pay any attention to Olga's unhappy appearance.

- It's good that you came quickly! Here is such a thing ... - the guy returned to the bathroom. The electric razor vibrated. Artyom raised his voice - his parents called! We returned from a trip yesterday. They want to visit me today. I thought that since you are here...

Olga sighed briefly and interrupted Beletsky:

- I understand! You have absolutely nothing to worry about! Borscht in the refrigerator, fresh bread and vegetables in a bag, - the girl put the keys to the apartment on the table and looked sadly at Artyom's wet footprint. - I forgot to buy sour cream! Quietly closing the front door behind her, she rushed like a bullet down the wide stone stairs, choking on sobs that rose to her throat.

"That's all, that's all," - rustled in the temples.

On the way to the subway, Olga took out her phone and dialed the number of Kerr's lawyer.

- I'm free and will go to you soon. Where can we meet? - having received instructions, the girl wiped her tears.

"I am done. No, not like that - I freed him. It is right. He doesn't have to justify himself to his parents or to me. He is the best!"

A call from "Beloved" was displayed on the phone screen. Olga stopped dead in her tracks. Pressing reset, she blocked Beletsky and shoved the phone away in her purse. There was no human power to remove the contact. But sooner or later she will have to do it.

chapter 3

- How pretty you are, like a doll! - Kerr, looking at Olga, smiled absolutely sincerely. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," she held out a plump, warm hand for a greeting. - I always admire when I see a beautiful person!

- How did you find me? Olga, shivering, looked around. The lawyer's words made no impression on her. On the contrary, she seemed to shrink even more, hoping to become as less noticeable as possible.

- My office is not far from here. The car had to be left a block away. Would you mind taking a little walk? - Kerr, smoothly turning around, took a few steps forward.

“Fifty-second size,” Olga automatically flashed through her head, “and the color is absolutely not hers. Although the coat fits well, given the parameters of the figure.”

- ... it is not often necessary to visit places like Chudov.

Olga shuddered realizing that she was not listening to Kerr at all. She quickened her pace and, coming abreast of the woman, apologized.

- I thought. So what do you want from me? It's strange, it's a day off, and you're at work.

- Don't talk! One has only to open their own business, as there is no time left either for personal life or for rest. Although the majority is under the illusion that not depending on the employer, you gain absolute freedom.

They entered a gray office building, where Kerr's small, cozy office was located on the third floor. Olga drew attention to the window sill lined with flowers and comfortable easy chairs. On the desktop, in addition to a stationary computer, there was a wicker basket with sweets and biscuits in paper packages. Maria Nikolaevna took off her coat and pressed the button on the electric kettle. Then she opened the window a little, letting in a stream of fresh air mixed with bird trills.

- Sit down, Olga Pavlovna, make yourself at home! What kind of tea do you prefer? Kerr set a square tin box containing her collection of tea sachets on the table.

Olga, thrusting her hands into the pockets of her raincoat, continued to stand in the center of the office. She couldn't let the cozy atmosphere and the lawyer's pleasant voice confuse her. The girl shifted from foot to foot, waiting for Kerr to stop the ceremony and get down to business. Only after meeting eyes with the somewhat puzzled look of Maria Nikolaevna, Olga finally took her place in the chair opposite.

- I understand, all this is unexpected, - Kerr put the box of tea back in the cupboard, - but, believe me, it's really important.

Olga, straightening her back, sat with tightly compressed lips.