A week later.

Fresh air, from the wide open window, wandered around the room. Lera woke up with a nagging headache and felt a touch on the curve of her waist.

She opened her eyes and saw the face of Vladislav. The lips are closed, a thin neat line. Breathing is so calm that it seemed to be completely absent. The man was without a T-shirt and all the scars were open to the eye.

Valeria slowly got up, carefully removing Bulatov's hand, and rested her head against the soft headboard. The hour hand showed almost seven in the morning. For the first time, the girl had a chance to...