Eve pressed the melted bell of the old slatted door and listened to the sounds: crockery clanged, unhurried footsteps were heard. The lock clicked hard and Oscar appeared in the doorway, in gray sweatpants and a wrestling shirt; Leaning his shoulder against the jamb, he stared at her with a questioning look.

Four days have passed since that meeting in the rose garden, and all this time they did not exchange even a couple of phrases. When Omarov threw her out of the house, she ran away in what she was - almost naked, in a thin dressing gown and house slippers. I took a taxi to my Moscow friend...