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đ„2 for $39.9, 3 for $49.9đ„ | SHOP_NOW | https://www.mellrl.top/collections/fashion-cup | Jake Newman Josh Lee | https://www.facebook.com/61550951084149/ | 1 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | mellrl.top | CAROUSEL | https://www.mellrl.top/collections/fashion-cup | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468448954_1095275412322643_7038565639967808941_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WBo5fVjgaooQ7kNvgE2yHXP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A_SnUawQobzGO1NIOBGoTt6&oh=00_AYAADb1YuZB-JrpXiyo-D_nsgy6jPTaGFmddk7B2r0Is2w&oe=674D94B7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Jake Newman Josh Lee | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 18:48 | active | 1930 | 0 | Download Nowđđđ | The Vampire and His Blood wife ONLY on Drama Time.đŹ Don't miss out! Watch the series you've been wanting to see. No regrets, just pure entertainment! #Must SeeTV #No Regrets #Watch Now | WATCH_MORE | Miiowtv short000 | https://www.facebook.com/61557562951006/ | 207 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Watch More | 0 | DCO | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/458375138_1564953581067845_5953868371458184387_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RRYd3TTSiO4Q7kNvgF4SG0L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AREnorXHkGejS-LEM8PB6vV&oh=00_AYA1w9WgShCt87N-S-aGDiAFdL1HUGimGRMpfF-ieIS--A&oe=674DA92A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Miiowtv short000 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapterđ | Because of cheating, he divorced her. She left a sentence, "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO and a single mother of triplets. The faces of her three children are exactly like his ... ============= Chapter 1 Ex-girlfriend Returns Raegan Hayes was a little absent-minded at the moment. All she could think of since this afternoon was the doctor's words. "Congratulations! You are going to be a mom." Suddenly, Mitchel Dixon pinched her arm. His low voice came the next second. "Come back to earth. What are you thinking about?" Mitchel was her husband. They had been married secretly for two years. He was her superior at work, the president of the Dixon Group. Everything had happened so fast. She was newly employed in the company when they unexpectedly got married. At that time, Mitchel's grandfather fell seriously ill. It was then he proposed a fake marriage just to fulfill his grandfather's dying wish. They signed a prenup, agreeing to hide their marriage from the public. Their union could be terminated at any time. It was an unconventional thing to do. However, Raegan only considered herself lucky at that time. Never in a million years did she think she would ever get married to the man she had a crush on for eight years. She delightfully agreed. After their marriage, Mitchel was very busy. He spent most of his time working. Raegan wished she could spend more time with him at home. However, she was rest assured because there hadn't been any rumors or scandals about him with women in the past two years. Except for his mild indifference, Mitchel was a perfect husband. Raegan had mixed feelings as she stared at the medical report. In the end, she decided to tell Mitchel this news. She also wanted to tell him that she hadn't learned about him for the first time two years ago and that she had been crushing on him for many years before then. Just then, Mitchelâs phone rang. He went to the balcony and answered the phone. Raegan checked the time and found that it was already midnight. She felt a little uneasy. Who would call Mitchel at this hour? Mitchel spent a few minutes on the balcony. Thereafter, he returned and changed into formal attire. His handsome face which had a clear outline made him look dignified. He was something to see now. "Don't wait up for me. Good night," he said finally. What? He was on his way out? At this hour? Raegan's grip on the report tightened as she stared at him in disappointment. Unconsciously, she withdrew slightly. After thinking for a while, she blurted out, "It's already so late." Mitchel's fingers froze on his tie. With a faint smile, he pinched her earlobe and said, "Be good, okay? There's something I have to do. Don't wait up." With that, he headed for the door. "Mitchel." Raegan quickly ran and caught up with him. Mitchel turned around and looked at her seriously. "What's the matter?" There was a tinge of coldness to his voice. An icy cloud hung over them as they stared at each other. A little distressed, Raegan asked in a low voice, "I would like to visit my grandma tomorrow. Can you accompany me there?" Her grandmother always wanted to see her. As a result, Raegan wanted to take Mitchel there to assure her grandma they were happy. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" Without agreeing or declining, Mitchel left in a hurry. Several thoughts were threading Raegan's mind. She couldn't sleep a wink. After tossing and turning for a long time, she went to the kitchen and made herself a warm glass of milk. A few notifications from some online blogs came into her phone. However, she wasn't interested in them. She was about to swipe them away when one of them caught her attention. The familiar name made her click on it. The news read, "Famous designer, Lauren Murray was spotted at the airport with her mysterious boyfriend earlier today." Lauren was wearing a bucket hat. The man's figure was vague, but the outline of his body was enough to show that he was dashing. Raegan zoomed in on the picture. The next second, her heart dropped. Mitchel was the man in the picture! So, he canceled the afternoon meeting just to go pick up his ex-girlfriend from the airport? This realization settled like a boulder in Raegan's gut, rendering her flustered. Her hands trembled. Subconsciously, she dialed Mitchel's number. The dial tone brought her back to her senses. Just as she was about to hang up, the line connected, and a voice came from the other end. "Hello!" It was a particularly gentle woman's voice. Raegan froze for a second and then threw the phone away. She suddenly felt sick in her stomach. Covering her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet bowl. The next morning, Raegan went to work on time. Mitchel had tried to get her to stop working after they got married. Stubbornly, she insisted on making her own money. Mitchel didn't kick against her decision, but he asked her to work as his assistant, helping him with the daily chores. The head assistant, Matteo Jenkins was left to take care of the major affairs Mitchel had. Matteo was the only Dixon Group employee who knew about their marriage. Since inception, only male assistants were hired for the president's office. Reagan was the first and only female. Her employment broke the protocol. As a result, other workers couldn't help but wonder if she was involved with Mitchel. It took a while before they realized that Mitchel never gave Raegan special treatment. Strangely, this made them despise her even more. After all, no one would last long in anything while taking advantage of their looks. At this time, one of Raegan's colleagues handed her a document and ordered her to take it to Mitchel's office. Mitchel didn't return home last night. Raegan was so worried that she didn't sleep at all. All she kept thinking about was the woman who answered his phone when she called. What was her relationship with Mitchel? Raegan already knew the answer to that, but she was still in denial. It was difficult for her to come to terms with that fact. Raegan tried to remain calm now. She reasoned that no matter what happened, she deserved a result that would be rewarding for all the years she spent loving Mitchel. This couldn't be all for nothing, right? She pressed the elevator button calmly and went up to the president's office. Before she walked out of the elevator, she smoothed her hair to make sure she looked good. She had arrived at the office, only to see that the door was ajar. A man's voice came. She halted instantly. "Come on, man! Do you have any feelings for Raegan or not?" The voice belonged to Luis Stevens, a childhood friend of Mitchel's. "What do you mean exactly?" Mitchel asked in a cold voice. "You know exactly what I mean!" Luis clicked his tongue impatiently and added, "I think Raegan is a good girl. Isn't she your type?" "Do you want me to hand her over to you?" Mitchel asked carelessly. "You know what, forget it!" The scornful laughter of Luis sounded particularly harsh in Raegan's ears. They were talking about her as if she were an object. Raegan took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the document. Soon, Luis's voice was heard again. "By the way, I saw the gossip news about Lauren's mysterious boyfriend this morning. That was you, right?" "Yes." "Well, well, well! That woman still has you wrapped around her little finger. You always want to please her." Luis sighed and continued to tease Mitchel. "As the old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Tell me, did you two..." Their conversation was like a thunder exploding over Raegan's head. Her face turned pale and her body was as cold as ice. The woman was indeed Lauren! Absence made the heart grow fonder! Every word drove a knife into her heart. Several whispering voices filled her head at this time. She suddenly felt light-headed. Her vision became blurry. She held the wall and took a step backward. Suddenly, the door was opened from inside. "Raegan?" Chapter 2 One-sided Love Luis was the one who opened the door. It appeared he was on his way out. Raegan balled her hands, turned to him, and nodded. "Hey, Mr. Stevens!" Without waiting for him to respond to her greeting, she walked past him and entered the office with the document. Mitchel was seated behind a large luxurious desk. In an expensive suit and matching tie, he looked particularly handsome. Raegan noticed it wasn't the same suit he had on when he left home last night. How did he get changed? With her eyes lowered, she swallowed that question and said instead, "Mr. Dixon, this is from the Marketing Department. Please sign it." Mitchel was expressionless as he signed the document at a glance. Raegan walked out the door as soon as he handed the document back to her. Luis was still standing at the threshold. It wasn't until she went out of sight that Luis turned to Mitchel and said in a hushed tone, "Do you think she heard us?" Mitchel's appealing eyes were expressionless at the moment. Obviously, he wasn't paying attention to what Luis was saying. To Mitchel, Raegan had always been docile and never felt jealous of anyone. Her strict obedience was all Mitchel demanded from her in exchange for treating her well. In the elevator. Raegan held her breath just to hold back her tears. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She had thought two years would be enough for Mitchel to realize how much she loved him and reciprocate her love. Now, it turned out that was just a pipe dream. She realized she would always play second fiddle to Lauren, Mitchel's true love. Reagan wiped her tears when the elevator halted. Save for her pale face, she looked normal when the doors opened. She dragged herself to the break room, intending to make herself a cup of tea. Several employees were chatting inside. "Guys, have you heard? Lauren Murray is back." "And who is that?" "Oh, my! You don't know her? Lauren is the heiress of the Murray Group as well as a world-class designer. Most importantly, she's the only girlfriend Mr. Dixon has ever shown off in public. She's his first love!" "Why is her return such a big deal? Isn't it rumored that there is something between Mr. Dixon and Raegan?" "Raegan? She's nothing to Mr. Dixon. Mr. Dixon never admitted that he was dating her. And that is no surprise to me. After all, look at her. She's not even that beautiful. Yet, she behaves as if she's already Mrs. Dixon. What a fool!" Standing at the door, Raegan smiled with self-mockery as she listened to them. It turned out everyone else saw the truth except her. The love was one-sided. "Ha-ha, have you finally woken up from your wild dream, Raegan?" A voice of mockery suddenly came from behind. Raegan turned around to see Tessa Lloyd, Mitchel's cousin, who had always despised her. Tessa must have also heard the employees gossiping. The last thing Raegan wanted to do now was argue with Tessa in the company. She turned to leave, but Tessa blocked her way. With a cup of coffee in her hand, Tessa uttered sarcastically, "Lauren is back now. Do you think Mitchel will still give you any attention?" Raegan said nothing to that. Seconds later, Tessa continued the ridicule. "Maybe itâs time for you to seek out another man, you pathetic fool." Raegan clenched her fists and said coldly, "Ms. Lloyd, if you are interested in that kind of thing, feel free to pursue it yourself." "You..." Raegan's retort made Tessa's face change. The next second, Tessa raised her hand and emptied the cup of coffee on Raegan. Raegan didn't think for a second that Tessa would do something so crazy. She held up her arms just to block the liquid from her face. In no time, the coffee drenched her clothes. Raegan frowned. "What did you do that for? Are you out of your mind?" It was lunch break and many employees were free to watch the drama. Tessa was even more complacent when she saw growing onlookers. She put on a mean-girl look as she said, "What makes you so smug every day, huh? Do you seriously think that others don't know you are just an orphan? The nerve of..." Tessa was silenced by Raeganâs shove. Her jaw dropped to the floor. She had never expected that Raegan, who was so quiet and timid, would shove her. Tessa stuttered, "You... You pushed me? How dare you!" Raegan eyed her and replied, "Yes, I did! It seems you need to be taught simple politeness." Indeed, she lost her parents when she was a child. But that didn't mean she would allow someone to walk over her for it. Wrinkles appeared on Tessa's face as she frowned in anger. As Mitchel's cousin, she was used to being fawned over and respected. This was the first time she had been treated like this. Tessa charged at Raegan like a raging bull, poised to retaliate. This time, Raegan was fully prepared for what was coming. She grabbed Tessa's wrist so that the latter couldn't move another inch. Tessa was shorter than Raegan. As a result, she struggled like an octopus that had one of its tentacles stuck in a fishing trap. Tessa cursed angrily, "How dare you put your hands on me? Who do you think you are?" These harsh words attracted more people to the break room. "That's enough!" Out of the blue, a baritone came from behind. Mitchel had left his office and ran into this hullabaloo. The entire room fell silent. "Mitchel?" Tessa's blood ran cold at the sight of Mitchel. She had always been scared of him. Her mother also warned her against provoking him. But when she remembered that Raegan humiliated her, she put on a pitiful expression and sobbed. "Mitchel, she bullied me." The sunlight from outside fell on Mitchel's handsome face. Raegan felt so grieved all of a sudden, and lowered her head to look at her clothes which were soaked with coffee. Their gaze met in the air. With a deep frown, Mitchel looked at Raegan and said, "Raegan, have you forgotten the rules of the company?" His ruthlessness made Raegan's breathing cease. She couldn't believe her ears. No one dared to make a sound at this moment. Raegan just stood straight there with her slender figure. When she got employed here, Mitchel had told her that the Dixon Group wasn't a place for her to mess around and that he would not tolerate her making any mistakes. Raegan could understand why he took this stand. However, at this moment, she was desperate to know whether Mitchel had heard those hard words Tessa scolded her or he was just pretending not to have heard because he agreed to those words. Was she truly insignificant to him? Scared to death by Mitchel's rage, the crowd soon dispersed. A few employees were bold enough to peep from a distance, unwilling to miss the good show. Mitchel's cold eyes made Raegan shiver from head to toe. Raegan pinched her palm to suppress her emotions as she looked at Tessa. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lloyd. As an employee of the Dixon Group, it was wrong of me to have offended you." Eyeing Raegan, Tessa raised her chin complacently. "Humph! Don't think you'll be let off the hook just by making a simple apology. I don't buy..." "The offence has nothing to do with the company. Personally, I refuse to apologize to you. Now, if you'd excuse me," Raegan chimed in. She then walked past Mitchel without sparing him another look. "You..." Tessa's face turned blue after hearing what Raegan said. Never in her years of being alive had she been so humiliated. She was always the bully, not the victim! The humiliation was so much that scolding Raegan wouldn't appease her anger. Pointing in Raegan's direction, Tessa shouted, "Mitchel, did you hear what that woman just said? She humiliated me, yet she's still so arrogant. Call her back. I have to teach her some manners!" Mitchel, staring at Raegan's thin back, had an ambiguous expression at this moment. "Enough!" he said coldly, raising his hand. As someone who lived and breathed drama and cruelty, Tessa didn't think Mitchel was partial to Raegan just now. She assumed that Mitchel didn't care about Raegan at all. Tessa gritted her teeth and said viciously, "Next time, I'll get someone to teach her a lesson." "Tessa!" Mitchel's tone and squint made it a reproof. Tessa trembled at once. With a somber face, Mitchel said, "I'll only say it once. Forget about what happened here today. Leave Raegan alone." The aura he exuded made her tongue go dry. All the vicious ideas she had in store against Raegan disappeared in an instant. She stammered, "Ok... Okay, got it..." Mitchel cast a cold glance at her and spoke to Matteo. "Irrelevant people wouldn't be allowed in here from today onwards." Without catching the drift, Tessa flattered Mitchel. "Nice call. This is a top company. Not everyone gains access in here." Matteo nodded to Mitchel and then walked over to Tessa. He gestured to the exit. "Ms. Lloyd, this way, please." It wasn't until this moment that Tessa realized that she was the irrelevant person Mitchel just mentioned. She tried to speak to him, but Matteo blocked her way. The security guards then escorted her out. They showed her no mercy. Her struggle was useless. Meanwhile, Raegan got changed when she returned to her office. Her heart was filled with sadness as she thought of how Mitchel looked at her minutes ago. Closing hour soon rolled by. Raegan took her bag and headed for the exit. However, Matteo stopped her. He said, "Mr. Dixon has something urgent to deal with, so he asked me to drive you home." Raegan declined the ride without thinking twice. She was blind before, but now she could see through the situation. In Mitchel's eyes, she was just a nobody. How could Mitchel agree to accompany her to visit her grandmother when he didn't even care about her? Upon arriving at the hospital, Raegan saw that the nurse was about to feed her grandmother dinner. Raegan took the job over and did it by herself. All her life, her grandmother had been living in the countryside, enjoying a quiet life. Everything changed last month when her routine medical checkup showed that she was in need of medical care. Raegan insisted on bringing her to the city for better treatment. Her grandmother wasn't aware of her marriage to Mitchel. Raegan had planned to surprise her today. But as it turned out, that was no longer necessary. Raegan waited for her grandmother to fall asleep before she left. She walked out of the hospital and waited for a taxi. In the distance, a black luxury car pulled into the entrance of the hospital. Raegan's eyes lit up when she saw it. She recognized that car as Mitchel's. Did he come to pick her up? At this moment, she forgot all the pain she had been feeling. Were her thoughts about him all wrong? Did he care for her, contrary to the gossip? The door of the driver's side opened and Mitchel got out. Raegan started walking toward him with her heart brimming with joy. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Mitchel had just walked over to the other side and carried a woman out of the car. Worry and compassion were written all over his handsome face. This wiped the smile on Raegan's face. Her heart sank. Chapter 3 Let's Divorce Mitchel's tall and straight figure got closer and closer to Raegan. And then, without saying a word, he strode past Raegan. It was hard to tell if Mitchel saw Raegan or just ignored her. Regardless, Raegan noticed that the woman in his arms was the same one who had been photographed with him yesterday. She was Lauren. Raegan's shoes felt like they were made of lead as she walked away. She lost all awareness of her surroundings. She got into a taxi absentmindedly. Suddenly, the driver uttered, "Ma'am, where to?" Raegan was stunned for a moment. She didn't want to go back to Serenity Villas. It was only a matter of time before that place stopped being her home. After a while, she replied, "Please take me to Crystal Bay." She had purchased an apartment at Crystal Bay after getting married to Mitchel. At the time, she had hopes of bringing her grandmother to the city, so she bought the apartment on mortgage. It wasn't that big, but it had more than enough space for two people. Mitchel didn't understand why she wanted to buy an apartment. He offered to give her a bigger one, but she declined. Looking back now, she realized that buying that apartment was the only wise decision she had ever made in the last two years. When she arrived at the apartment complex, Raegan sat in the park alone, trying to cool herself down. The memories of the past two years were bittersweet. Two years had passed in the blink of an eye even though it was more than seven hundred days and nights. Love could move mountains, they said. Yet, her love didn't move that stone of a man. She finally realized what a fool she had been. She had been making herself a laughingstock in front of everyone. It was already late in the night before Raegan finally decided to go into her apartment. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she saw Mitchel standing in front of the door. His sleeves were rolled up casually, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, which revealed his long neck and part of his collarbone. He was leaning on the wall by the door, his handsome face straight. Raegan froze for a moment. Why was he here? Didn't she see him at the hospital with Lauren? What brought him here? Their eyes met. With his coat draped over his arm and one of his hands in his pocket, Mitchel squinted at her. "Why didn't you answer the phone?" he asked, sounding a little grumpy like someone who hadn't slept in a long time. Raegan took out her phone and saw she had accidentally put it on DND. There were five missed calls from Mitchel. This marked the first time in their two-year marriage. Mitchel blew up her phone because he couldn't find her? Surprising! Before today, she would have been overjoyed by this. People would've thought she won the lottery. But now, she just threw her phone back into her bag, folded her arms, and said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't hear it ring." Mitchel raised his hand to check the time on the watch, and said impatiently, "I've been looking for you for two hours." After arranging everything for Lauren, he returned home to find an empty house. He looked for Raegan everywhere. When he couldn't find her, he asked Matteo to check the surveillance footage of all the roads that led away from the company. He later found out that Raegan went to Crystal Bay without telling him. "Next time, tell me when you are coming here, okay? Let's go home now." After that, Mitchel walked toward the elevator without sparing her another glance. He meant to go back to Serenity Villas. Raegan didn't move an inch. She just stared at his broad back and pondered reluctantly. Would they have a future? Mitchell turned around, only to see that Raegan hadn't taken a single step. He frowned and asked, "Can't you walk? Do you want me to carry you instead?" The light in the corridor illuminated his face, making his side profile almost impeccable. Raegan took a deep breath and said, "Let's divorce." "What do you mean?" Mitchel's voice was cold, and his handsome face changed immediately. "I want to move into my own place. After all, we will be strangers soon." Raegan forced a smile, but her heart was aching as if someone was tearing it apart bit by bit. "We will be strangers?" Mitchel smiled coldly. "Raegan, what do you think our relationship is now?" His questioning left Raegan stunned for a moment. Mitchel had made it very clear to her from the very beginning. This facade of their marriage had happened by mutual agreement. There was no love. In the eyes of others, they were nothing more than just a superior and a subordinate. Mitchel was quite the catch in Ardlens. Many young ladies longed for his love and were even willing to throw themselves at him. His question just now reminded her of that fact. Was he afraid that she wouldn't let him go that easily? If that was the case, he couldn't be more wrong... After biting her lower lip to conceal her bitterness, Raegan said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon. I was giving it too much thought. Anyway, please leave me alone from now on. You don't have to come here again." After saying that, Raegan couldn't help but burst into tears. How could she not be sad when she was cutting ties with the man she had loved for a decade? It was such a long time. Regardless of how difficult it was, she knew it was time to let go. It was high time she stopped being a fool. Strangely, the light in the corridor began flickering. The deathly stare Mitchel was giving Raegan right now made the atmosphere seem like the moment before an attack in a horror movie. Although he understood that Raegan sometimes could throw a tantrum, he felt that she had just crossed the line now. His eyes shone like blazing torches at this moment. But when he saw the tears in her eyes, the rage inside him extinguished in an instant. He said in a low voice, "If this is about what happened between you and Tessa, I..." "No, this isn't about her. Mr. Dixon, please leave now." A lot of things happened between them. And the incident with Tessa didn't come close to any. Raegan felt exhausted. She passed by Mitchel and was about to open the door. Yet, Mitchel was displeased with her stubbornness. He loosened his tie irritably. He then took a step forward and grabbed her wrist. "Stop this, will you?" A second later, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his arms. He instantly realized that she was burning up like someone who had been set on fire. "You have a fever?" Raegan felt dizzy. She rested her head on his chest weakly. This made the whole situation complicated. Reagan was slow to catch that. When she finally realized that her body was too close to his, she put her hands against his chest and tried to pull back. Before she could escape, Mitchel pulled her back and held her by the waist. With a cold face, he said in a low voice, "Where do you think you are going?" The light flickered again. Out of the blue, Mitchel lifted her up. He then headed for the elevator. In a daze, Raegan asked softly, "What are you doing?" "What does it look like I am doing?" Mitchel remarked. "Taking you to the hospital, of course." "No way!" Raegan cried out in surprise and seemed to regain more strength. Mitchel might find out about her condition if they went to the hospital. Raegan struggled to get out of Mitchel's arms. However, his tight grip made her efforts fruitless. "Don't be so stubborn. You are sick, so you must see the doctor," Mitchel said firmly. He walked to the elevator with her in his arms. At this moment, Raegan's heart was thumping so hard that it could jump out of her chest. She flailed in protest. "Put me down! I don't want to go to the hospital!" &40& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-e | Lera reading | https://www.facebook.com/61550764321146/ | 3,081 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-enj57-1125-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=791750052879575&rawadid=120214031204750758 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465587253_437926729020057_7291206109432124176_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gNy_nfkpOzgQ7kNvgFIwCKd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEtfqymNtAi0jZwF_WAd7d3&oh=00_AYCrdJLahni571fH8rHXZVsGhvizOpqiiT8mDfmj-4askQ&oe=674D930C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lera reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapter | Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e | Heat Novel A | https://www.facebook.com/100089743291944/ | 578 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&rawadid=120214206079970033 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468391314_1639550813611480_3732258711137282248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XFMZsiYg2ooQ7kNvgH4WRf3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS76z34zUrbEUjV0Zlyt9QC&oh=00_AYBp5arETLW7ADLKCL3eUCeSVU3fmGqmToK27fe7xpR-rg&oe=674D9D24 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat Novel A | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463430846_3918983931754783_3857163581980999957_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2CYvUGYgUxsQ7kNvgFDE3XE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AS76z34zUrbEUjV0Zlyt9QC&oh=00_AYBjt7nl80mNczmzRzZeY5V5RBhCeEG5ivSa47RuezqfWw&oe=674D9561 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Carissa Sinclair stared at the hypocritical man before her, his heartfelt promises still echoing in her ears. At the time of her husband's departure for battle, she used her dowry to support the household and care for her in-laws. In the end, however, she was met with betrayal; Barrett Warren used his military achievements to request the king's permission to take another legitimate wife, placing her on equal footing with him. She was the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, and she herself was also highly skilled in martial arts. After her family was destroyed, she had no choice but to marry a good husband as her mother had wished, learning to be obedient and manage household affairs to put her mother at ease. But the man before her was no virtuous partner. Barrett's handsome face bore a hint of apology, yet his words were resolute, "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! All her sincere efforts over the past year turned out to be feeding a dog. "Carissa, when I married you, I didn't understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa curled her lips in a faint smile; beneath her seemingly teary eyes gleamed a sharp, fierce determination, "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she's different from any woman you know. She's a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn't want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That's them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She's straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won't like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It's fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I'll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. "Why put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, you'll be in separate wings. She won't compete with you for control of the household. She doesn't care about those things." "Do you really think I'm attached to managing this household?" Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrett's mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligationsâall these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. "Enough, I won't argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing," said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. Carissa watched him leave in a huff, feeling even more the irony in her heart. "My lady, my lord was too much!" said Lulu, Carissa's maid, wiping her tears away. "Don't call him that!" Carissa gave her a stern look. "We never consummated the marriage. He's not your lord." "Help me get ready; we're going to the royal palace." "What do we need to go to the royal palace for... Oh! Are you asking the king to revoke the decree?" Lulu asked innocently, tilting her head. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. "Silly girl, is it worth it for us to continue wasting our youth on someone like that?" Lulu covered her forehead and exclaimed, "Then why are we going to the palace?" "Of course, to seek a decree for divorce." Barrett Warren could leverage his achievements to request a marriage from the king, and she, Carissa Sinclair, could also use the military merits of the Marquis' family of Northwatch to request an edict for an amicable divorce. Since her husband's heart no longer belongs to her, why should she cling on? As for the substantial dowry she had given over the years, there's no reason to let this heartless family benefit from it for free. She will reclaim every single cent. With clear brows and resolute expression, Carissa Sinclair's gentle face radiated unwavering determination...... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463979086_1249620329511298_7952432189440379201_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=D6bG6eHvsPwQ7kNvgG6_hhZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYDKAZoWIsG2GryjS6MDLy8tVzqHnH8nG4Bf_E9x2rly_A&oe=674D8146 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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BIGO LIVE - Live Stream, Live Games, Chat Rooms Online | Itâs time for ONE MORE BLACK FRIDAY GIVE AWAY! This time with a Brand New Dino đđ If you buy at least $10 worth of diamonds using our Fast Recharge (either at our link in bio or at m.bigopay.tv) youâll be eligible to win a Hamburger Dino! Competition is steep this time and only the top 7 spenders will recieve this Limited Edition Dino! But donât worry, in addition weâll also be selecting 3 random lucky spenders đ The Rules are simple: đŠ Buy at least $10 worth of diamonds (using our link in bio or at m.bigopay.tv) đŠ Follow us @bigolive.usa and repost this post on your story. Comment a đ below when youâve done both đŠ DM us with a proof of purchase and your BIGO ID #HappyThanksgiving #HappyBlackFriday | LEARN_MORE | https://www.bigo.tv/?shortlink=NOVKOL100&is_retarg | BIGO LIVE US | https://www.facebook.com/BIGOLIVEUSA/ | 32,338 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | bigo.tv | IMAGE | BIGO LIVE is a free live streaming platform that allows you to go live, watch live streams, live games, live shows, and video chat online. | https://www.bigo.tv/?shortlink=NOVKOL100&is_retargeting=true&c=US-NOVKOL100&pid=region_kol&af_click_lookback=7d&source_caller=bulk | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468507449_581459877581311_862495430091822486_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wgd6szSVJawQ7kNvgHlD6LY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AST7f82_h738zJU09L46r_F&oh=00_AYAINY_38rx9dX9YLJ3dAREcCNdbohqKt_AB38oAFrIYPw&oe=674D84B7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | BIGO LIVE US | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:12 | active | 1931 | 0 | Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e | Good Story | https://www.facebook.com/100090635329790/ | 686 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=638434121690371&rawadid=120217235698470091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468283305_533637812987996_7072625277462445683_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4kF0wPUaousQ7kNvgGT4WyZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3kTY6m_MrRiPqSZiOMWKk3&oh=00_AYBWcFCaHD4lrUYojQ6OQpw_mXKM0pdhlfgULGCIa38JYQ&oe=674D8D8C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Good Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:13 | active | 1931 | 0 | Read next chapter | On her wedding anniversary, she dressed up for a date but was drugged and manipulated by her husband's mistress, leading to spend a night with a stranger. To her surprise, he turned out to be her husband's half-brother and business rival! ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e | Popular romance stories | https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/ | 17,943 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&rawadid=120213485992780033 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464270159_520399770975479_5849071062443700690_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=J2UQDcXChkMQ7kNvgE7unPm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AvodYvyrWUEfZo-mZuxGlj0&oh=00_AYC-8w95hYld00pN0yRgvczSa1U8oWb16Zz62Z1Run8T_A&oe=674DA06D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Popular romance stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In her past life, she tragically died on the operating table. Now, all she wants is a divorce, but the man who once ignored her is desperately pleading for her to stay... âHeart pacemaker! Quick! Increase the voltage!â The intern nurse is trembling, covered in blood. The operating room reeks of blood. The woman on the bed is pale and whispering, â JuanâŠâ âWhat?â The nurse leans closer. â JuanâŠâ Heâs the powerful president of a major company! The doctor, panicking, misdials before finally reaching him: âPresident Juan, your wife is about to die. You might want to come say goodbye.â Coldly, he replies, âIs she still alive? Call me when sheâs gone.â The line goes dead. At that moment, the light fades from her eyes. Juan⊠Do you really hate me this much? Debra feels her soul leave her body, looking at her lifeless selfâshe died during childbirth. She loved Juan deeply and sacrificed everything for him, only to end up like this. If only she could start over, she would avoid her past mistakes. âMadam, your husband wants to take you to the auction tonight. What do you want to wear?â A familiar voice pulls her back. Everything looks familiar, itâs her and Juanâs new home! This was five years ago when he needed her for an auction. Could it be⊠sheâs been reborn?... | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460516715_3731909377059048_7579242386769920403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_ZXEl1g8gxEQ7kNvgH_9RmJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGuEgiHEpUX3GJYJ4tsj5eG&oh=00_AYAYQh5Zz8mxy_KaiDZADzs8aYJMASXnHxoMhW46oGjqDQ&oe=674DA871 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ The Night Before Thanksgiving is here! Weâll be closed tomorrow, so join us tonight to celebrate with Crazy Norse and cheers to the holiday. Because weâre so thankful for YOU, weâre giving away a $50 gift card! đ Giveaway Time đ To enter: 1ïžâŁ Like this post 2ïžâŁ Share it 3ïžâŁ Comment your favorite Barleycornâs memory Note: Weâll reply directly to the winnerâs comment on this post. Weâll never send a friend request, DM a link, or ask for personal information. Winner announced Friday! Good luck! đ» #BarleycornsBrewhouse #NightBeforeThanksgiving #Giveaway #Barleycorns #GetOverHere | NO_BUTTON | Barleycorn's | https://www.facebook.com/Barleycorns/ | 8,853 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | No button | 0 | IMAGE | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468407432_543365935142244_2967284260253028991_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=R0hkvPlPKmkQ7kNvgEhCHkq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHwS3w2KxwzQqRkl52t1Pyv&oh=00_AYDImYz6gLQHaEGRKCIZGRSR9pGKPF75XVZlONn_Lno8Vg&oe=674D8AA5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Barleycorn's | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 18:38 | active | 1929 | 0 | BOOK MAIL UNBOXING AND GIVEAWAY!! First off, thank you so much @hambright_pr, @lyraparish, and @raisingrogers_books for this signed copy of The Wife Situation đ I absolutely loved reading and review this! Second, a giveaway! I just so happened to recieve two of these packages and got permission to give it away so one of you lucky people have a chance to win one! To enter: * Follow me * Like and save this post * Tell me your favorite trope *Tag a friend or two * Share this post to your story Details: * Giveaway will end on December 4th at midnight * Must be 18+ to enter * International #giveaway #prmail #bookmail #lyraparish #thewifesituation #hambrightpr #bookstagram #books #booklover #booksbooksbooks #bookdragon | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/bookdragonart3mis | bookdragonart3mis | https://www.instagram.com/_u/bookdragonart3mis | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | VIDEO | http://instagram.com/bookdragonart3mis | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/468645558_552773810877063_8405632857901756830_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=n-RYC1Cpeh0Q7kNvgHu0nzP&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYAtQ-chXoAfm-O6DN2UIlo5OJ4XWzN1ttkjrYOlTzU9jA&oe=674DA4E2 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | bookdragonart3mis | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:13 | active | 1931 | 0 | Forced into marriage with the disabled magnate, she anticipated a lifetime of care. However, to her shock, on their wedding night, he rose from his wheelchair. From then on, he kept her awake night after night. ===== Chapter1 How About We Get Married? "Kaelyn knows about our wedding, and now she's threatening to jump off a building. You are aware of her depression, aren't you? I have to go save her," Theo explained impatiently and pushed Elyse aside. "Today is our wedding day! What am I supposed to do if you leave? Kaelyn Bennett totally stabbed you in the back before. She's caused you so much pain-why the heck must you go see her right now?" The push caused Elyse to sprain her ankle, and as she fell to the floor, she awkwardly stretched out her hand, trying to hold him back. Theo's gaze turned even colder. "You're not in a position to judge what happened between me and Kaelyn. No matter her wrongs or the pain she caused, you don't measure up to her." A pain struck Elyse's heart. She realized that he had never truly forgotten Kaelyn. To him, she would never be as significant as Kaelyn was. "What did I do to deserve this? Why are you treating me this way? Please, just wait until the wedding is over. We're almost at the point of exchanging rings. You can leave after that." Theo dodged her hand and said with disgust, "You're more concerned with your wedding than a living person's life. You're so heartless. Let's reschedule the wedding." Without a glance at her pale face, he strode away from the ornate altar, oblivious to the puzzled looks of gathered guests. As the groom left, the crowd erupted into chaos. "No, please don't leave me, Theo! What should I do if you leave?" Elyse cried out, sitting pitifully on the floor. She trembled, tears ruining her carefully applied makeup. The man she had loved for three years, disregarding her dignity, had chosen another woman without a second thought on their big day. He was consumed with thoughts of Kaelyn's distress but seemed indifferent to how lost and humiliated she felt, left alone at the altar. All around her, countless eyes watched, some mocking, some pitying, and others even gloating. Elyse had never felt such torment! Her father, Lanny Lloyd, approached. She hoped for comfort, but instead, he scolded her sharply, "You can't even keep a man. How useless!" After berating her, he left with his wife, Glenda Lloyd, without a backward glance. Her sister, Mabel Lloyd, emerged from the crowd with a smirk. "Well, that's embarrassing, Elyse. Your groom ran off, and now you're a laughingstock. I'm embarrassed for you. Imagine how Mom and Dad feel." After saying that, she turned and left. One by one, all of Elyse's family members departed, leaving her completely alone. Initially, Theo's parents felt guilty, but upon witnessing her family's reaction, all traces of guilt dissipated. "Even her own parents didn't support her. It seems this isn't entirely Theo's fault." "Yes, if she were a good partner, why would her fiancĂ© leave her?" "Did she cheat on him? What else would make a groom leave like that?" The murmurs of criticism from the surrounding guests grew louder and harsher. Suddenly, there were noises nearby. Turning around, Elyse spotted a man in a suit sitting alone in a wheelchair. The officiant, looking flustered, asked, "Where is your bride?" Wiping away her tears, she halted a passing staff member and inquired, "That man is a groom, right? Where is his bride?" The staff member glanced at her and responded, "She didn't show up. I heard it was because she couldn't deal with her husband's disability." "And he's been waiting here all this time?" The staff member nodded. The wheelchair-bound groom was facing away from Elyse, and they were a fair distance apart. She couldn't see his expression, but she understood the pain of being left alone. They were both unfortunate souls, abandoned. After a moment of reflection, a determined look settled in Elyse's eyes. She had loved Theo for three years, but he had betrayed her. Why should she remain loyal to him? She realized she didn't need to be with him at all. As she suddenly stood up, the guests who had been whispering and mocking her fell silent. All eyes instinctively focused on her as she lifted the hem of her dress and confidently walked toward the man in the wheelchair. The sight of a bride in a white wedding dress approaching left the man's guests equally stunned. Hearing the rustle of her dress, the man in the wheelchair turned around slowly. Elyse halted and gazed at the handsome man before her, a spark of surprise in her eyes. She then extended her hand and said, "Hello, I heard you're in need of a bride. My groom just left me. How about we get married?" Chapter2 What Was She Up To? "My name is Elyse Lloyd. If it's all right with you, we can get married today," she proposed confidently. Her bold proposal left the crowd in shock, prompting several to capture the moment with their phones. "Miss Lloyd, are you certain about this decision? Given my disability, I may not be able to provide the future you envision," the man replied openly, without hiding his condition, and gently urged her to think it over. "I've made up my mind," Elyse responded with determination. "I'm Jayden," he introduced himself. Seeing her resolve, Jayden Owen grasped her hand and shared his concern, "I fear you might regret this choice later on." Elyse chose not to respond. She was sure of her decision. She had once been solely focused on marrying Theo, who never truly reciprocated her love. Now, who she married seemed inconsequential. After efficiently wrapping up the wedding formalities at City Hall, Elyse and Jayden were now bound by matrimony, officially united as husband and wife. With the marriage certificate in hand, Elyse experienced a profound sense of relief. Theo had broken her heart, and she was resolute in never returning to him. Regarding her father, since she would not be marrying into the Ward family, he had another daughter to think about. She understood her little sister Mabel too well. As someone driven by greed, how could Mabel resist the temptation to become Theo's wife and a member of the Ward family? Thus, marrying Jayden was Elyse's perfect escape from her family's clutches. She had no intention of going back home again. While she gazed thoughtfully at the marriage certificate, Jayden asked, "What's on your mind? Regretting your decision to marry a disabled man?" Elyse shook her head, took hold of the wheelchair, and replied, "I think it was a good decision." Jayden smiled slightly, though his eyes betrayed a hint of skepticism and mistrust. How could any woman genuinely want to marry a disabled man? He figured she was just putting on an act-an act that couldn't last forever. He needed a bride momentarily to distract his family while he pursued his own goals. Well, he decided, he might as well see what she was up to. Elyse helped Jayden into the car, and they drove to his house. Jayden's home was opulent, complete with a garden and a swimming pool, and staffed with a butler in a tuxedo and uniformed maids. As Elyse stepped onto the plush wool carpet, she truly realized that her new husband was far from ordinary. The butler, Driscoll Lee, approached them respectfully and inquired, "Mr. Owen, is this your bride?" Surveying the opulent house and recollecting her newlywed husband's full name, a sudden realization dawned on Elyse. The Owens were the most influential family in town, and Jayden Owen was particularly notable among his peers for his business acumen and exceptional talent. He was one of the wealthiest men around. However, after a car accident a year ago that cost him his legs, Jayden had faded from the public eye and his prior achievements were largely forgotten. So, she had married the legendary Jayden Owen? Elyse recalled hearing rumors about his engagement to a girl from the Foster family. The bride who had disappeared on her wedding day was supposed to be that Foster girl. Upon hearing Jayden's full name at City Hall, Elyse hadn't dwelled on it much. If she had known his background sooner, she wouldn't have had the courage to broach the topic of marriage with him. Jayden noticed the shock and panic on her face but remained silent. He still doubted that she truly hadn't recognized him. After all, his disability was well known. "This is Elyse Lloyd, my wife. From now on, she will be the hostess here," Jayden introduced her firmly. "Joanna Foster escaped on our wedding day because she didn't want to marry a disabled man," he added bluntly. "Joanna Foster disappeared on the wedding day?" Driscoll expressed his surprise. The Foster family had been eager to forge a union with the Owen family through marriage, pushing for Jayden to marry Joanna. On the wedding day, however, the bride had disappeared. Wasn't this a deliberate humiliation of Jayden? Driscoll felt sympathy for him and offered some consolation, "Sir, perhaps it's for the best that she left. It seems you might have found the right person after all." Elyse had shown no concern for Jayden's disability and was willing to marry him. That indeed counted for something. Chapter3 He Could Walk Fluidly Looking at Jayden's legs, Elyse felt a wave of sympathy for him. Jayden had once been at the pinnacle of success, and now he seemed so vulnerable. Just because he was disabled, his bride had callously abandoned him at the altar, showing him no respect whatsoever. He must have felt even more devastated than she did during the wedding. Approaching Jayden, Elyse took his hand and said earnestly, "Don't worry. We are husband and wife now. I will take care of you for the rest of our lives." Jayden's expression turned rigid. Could she really mean it, promising to take care of him for a lifetime? He doubted her sincerity, thinking she was just putting on an act of compassion. Without a word, Jayden maneuvered his wheelchair into the study on the first floor. "I'm sorry," Driscoll said apologetically. "Since his accident, he's been a bit more temperamental." "It's fine. I understand," Elyse replied, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. Anyone in his situation might change. She then followed Driscoll upstairs to a room on the second floor. -- "Sir." In the study stood a bald man named Vinny Bailey, clad in a tight black shirt that accentuated his prominent tendons. Respectfully, Vinny ignited a lighter and lit a cigar for Jayden. "Joanna has gone abroad. The Foster family is desperately trying to come up with a solution." "They've taken thirty million and five major projects from me. Is this their way of repaying me?" Jayden let out a puff of smoke and remarked casually, "If I don't teach them a lesson, others will see me as a pushover. The Fosters need to learn a few things." "Do you want us to bring Joanna back?" Vinny inquired, nodding. "And as for your new wife, should we make some introductions with our men?" "No need." Jayden, cigar clenched between his teeth, lifted a document from the desk and strolled over to the window. The wheelchair was tucked away in a corner of the room, ignored, as he moved fluidly across the floor. This document detailed Elyse's entire life, from her childhood through to her college life, even including her romance with Theo. He casually flipped through the pages and drawled, "An ordinary woman. She married me just for my money." Back then, the Owens had declared their search for a wife for Jayden, aiming simply to secure an heir. Upon the announcement, no wealthy family was eager to marry their daughter to him, except for the Fosters, who had enriched themselves through their daughters' marriage. The Fosters' motive was straightforward-to exchange their daughter for resources and money. Vinny saw no other reason for Elyse to marry Jayden but for financial gain. Yet, there was another twist. "She was originally going to marry Theo Ward." "Ward? The Ward family that's well-known?" Jayden lifted an eyebrow. "Yes. But apparently, the groom ran off to reunite with his ex-girlfriend after receiving a phone call." Vinny paused, then speculated, "Maybe she married you just to spite Theo Ward." Jayden ceased perusing the documents and glanced up at Vinny with a hint of annoyance. "You're looking at it too simplistically. By marrying me, she stands to gain more. That's the real reason she married me, despite my disability." In Jayden's eyes, Elyse hadn't yet revealed her true intentions. But he didn't mind her interest in his money. He needed a wife to appease his family. If she married him for gain, it would make a future divorce simpler for him. -- Perched on the edge of the bed, Elysee scrolled through her phone and noticed the trending topics. #Bridegroom Ran Away For His Ex #Bride Marries Stranger To Anger Her Ranaway Groom She casually scrolled through the comments. The public deemed the entire situation unbelievable and both parties' actions as unreasonable. Nevertheless, discussions had thrust Elyse's name into circulation because of it. Some even discovered she was a violinist in an orchestra and stumbled upon a video of her past performance. Unable to resist, Elyse was watching these videos when Theo called. "Where are you, Elyse? Let's meet and talk." Chapter4 Who Were You Married To? As Elyse descended the stairs to the villa's entrance, Driscoll approached her with concern. "It's quite late. Where are you off to? Shall I arrange a car for you?" "No, thanks. I'll be back soon." Driscoll watched her depart before heading to the study. Elyse, having agreed to meet Theo, called a taxi and was soon en route. Fifteen minutes later, she entered a coffee shop and instantly noticed Theo, who was in high spirits, busy texting on his phone. A flicker of sarcasm crossed her eyes as she approached and sat across from him. Theo looked up, his expression souring. "Why are you so late? Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting?" Staring back at him, Elyse felt a chill. They had been together for a long time, yet he was always domineering toward her, a stark contrast to his demeanor with Kaelyn. She had once loved him, believing she could endure anything. Only today had she realized how foolish that was. If she didn't love herself, how could she expect anyone else to love her? "If you don't want to wait, you can leave," Elyse retorted icily. Theo, taken aback by her response, grew visibly more upset. "You're holding a grudge about what happened at the wedding, aren't you? I get why you're upset, but you can't be more understanding and reasonable? I left because Kaelyn was in dire straits-she was depressed and contemplating suicide." "You can go to anyone you want. You don't need to explain anything to me-I don't care anymore." Elyse found humor in his words. Theo couldn't believe she was indifferent. They had been together for three years, and everyone knew how deeply she loved him. He thought her claim of indifference was merely a result of anger. But he was confident he could easily resolve this. Just a few sweet words and she'd come back to him. "It's not a big deal. I came back to you after handling everything, didn't I? I'll visit your parents soon, and we can start planning the wedding again," Theo said. "No need for that." "What?" "There won't be a wedding." Elyse's face was devoid of emotion. "We're done." "Why are you still upset? I left at the wedding, but I came back for you. Can't you forgive me?" Theo frowned. "Forgive you? Forgive you for abandoning me for another woman?" Elyse slammed her hand on the table. "Do you have any idea what I've been through since you left? Your family has been calling me names, even though you were the one who left me at the altar- just for another woman!" "Elyse Lloyd!" Theo shouted her name furiously. "What others say is their issue. Isn't our three-year relationship strong enough for you to trust me?" "Three years, and yet you never forgot your ex," Elyse countered, her face marked by disappointment. "I believed we'd be together forever, but it seems three years was our limit. We're done, Theo. It's clear we're not suited for each other." While speaking, she retrieved a ring from her bag and set it down on the table-the same ring he had used to propose. She recalled the joy she felt that day, now overshadowed by her current despair. Elyse gave Theo one last look, mentally closing the chapter on their three years together. She grabbed her bag and departed without a backward glance. Theo was stunned. Was Elyse dumping him? He always saw her as a simp, her family reliant on his. How could she just walk away? Humiliated, he chased after her, grabbed her shoulder, and said forcefully, "You have no right to break things off! Remember, your father's business relies on me. Without me, your family has nothing. Come back, and we'll marry in a few days to make up for today!" "Let me go!" Elyse fought back fiercely and yelled with defiance and frustration, "I'm married. Stop bothering me!" "So what if you are married! You will always belong to me." After blurting that out, he froze and asked incredulously, "What did you say? You're married? Who to?" While he was momentarily dazed, Elyse wriggled free from his grip. She hadn't anticipated turning around to find Jayden sitting in a wheelchair quietly a few meters behind her. "Jayden!" she exclaimed. Chapter5 You Can Stand? "Didn't I make it clear? I'm married. We're over. This is my husband," Elyse said as she quickly moved to Jayden's side, gripping his arm. Theo stared at Jayden, failing to recognize him. With a sneer, he said, "To get back at me, you married a disabled man?" He then extended his hand, commanding in a domineering tone, "Elyse, come here! I'll make it up to you when we get back." But Elyse looked at him as if he were a stranger. "Did you hear me? Come here!" Theo grew frustrated. Elyse reflected on how she would have responded in the past-she would definitely walk over to his side. She had loved him deeply for three years. Her feelings had been genuine. Yet, the depth of her affection made the betrayal harder to bear. On her first birthday after they got together, she wanted to celebrate it by the sea. To make her happy, Theo bought a camera, promising to capture beautiful photos of her. As they were about to board the plane for their trip to the seaside, Kaelyn was injured on a film set and called Theo. Without any hesitation, Theo left her stranded at the airport. It was the most disappointing birthday Elyse had ever experienced. Theo had once vowed to attend her debut performance with her orchestra, yet she ended up not seeing him there. She lingered in the hall all night, only to learn the next day that he had missed the performance because Kaelyn had become drunk at a dinner party while trying to land a role. He stayed because he was worried she might be taken advantage of. For three years, he had been Kaelyn's protector, but he had never offered Elyse the same safeguard. This accumulation of disappointments came to a head at the wedding. She knew she deserved love and respect, not neglect. "I am Jayden's wife now. I owe my loyalty to him," declared Elyse with a chill in her voice. "Elyse Lloyd!" Theo roared, enraged. He thought Elyse was merely being spiteful and fabricating things due to the day's incidents. As he tried to seize her hand, Jayden intervened, blocking him swiftly. Theo struggled to free his hand, but was unable to. He couldn't overpower a disabled man? The realization pissed him off. "Release me!" Theo exploded with anger. "She has no desire to leave with you. Can't you understand?" Jayden pressed slowly, his force causing Theo's features to twist in distress. Jayden held on until Theo cried out in pain before releasing him. "Remember this day, Elyse. You'll regret it in the future!" With a hint of embarrassment, Theo glared at Elyse and stormed off after his declaration. Watching him leave, Elyse felt a bitter smile form within her. She knew Theo would not easily let go of being humiliated, but there was no turning back for them now. "Let's go home, Elyse." "Okay." After helping Jayden into the car, they both sat silently, gazing out the window and avoiding any mention of Theo. "How did you know I was out here?" Elyse asked, her curiosity piqued. Without turning to face her, Jayden replied, "Driscoll mentioned it wasn't safe for you to be alone at this hour, so I came to pick you up." In truth, he had suspected she was up to something secretive, but it turned out she was merely meeting her ex. This revelation left him slightly disappointed. "Since you've married me, you should sever ties with your ex. My family members are strict, and I can't cover for you if they find out you're still seeing another man." "I won't see him again. I met him just to return a ring," Elyse responded, nodding. Jayden said nothing more. As long as Elyse respected his boundaries, she was free to make her own choices. When they arrived home, Elyse noticed Jayden heading straight for the study again. Curious, she asked Driscoll, "Why is he always in the study?" "The study is not only his workplace, but it has also become a sanctuary for his soul," Driscoll explained. "And why doesn't he return to his room?" "He does sometimes, but we rarely know when. He prefers that we don't fuss over him too much." With that, Driscoll departed. After freshening up in her room, Elyse was preparing for bed, but her thoughts lingered on the day's events with Jayden. She realized that despite his reserved nature, he was genuinely concerned for her safety. Feeling grateful and wanting to express her thanks, she left her room and walked towards the study. As she approached, she noticed the door was slightly ajar, casting a sliver of light into the hallway. Elyse pushed the door open and to her surprise, saw Jayden standing. She gasped and asked, "Jayden, you can stand?" âŠâŠ ==== "You need a bride, I need a groom. Why don't we get married?" Both abandoned at the altar, Elyse decided to tie the knot with the disabled stranger from the venue next door. Pitying his state, she vowed to spoil him once they were married. Little did she know that he was actually a powerful and healthy tycoon. Was Jayden's fake disability revealed just like that? What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &20& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/55905322-fb_contact-e | Dreamy books | https://www.facebook.com/61565834197209/ | 148 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/55905322-fb_contact-enp12_8-c2-0511-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=060236&accid=461757146675392&rawadid=120216458744790174 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467751121_1289241125764822_3502607752925058738_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BcI2KcttK0wQ7kNvgEyUOqf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGjq9WAdin52dKd24MQ-tHj&oh=00_AYAWQk0HJ8wIEiDejW5W6k1p6qbgnVWucPPDM7EzkSklbQ&oe=674D8C9C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Dreamy books | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ХбДжаĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа | ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃла ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐŒŃжа ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, ŃĐșŃŃла бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ŃŃла Ń ŃазбОŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ. ===== «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ! ĐĐ°Ń ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČ». ĐаŃŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа ĐČŃŃла Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐżŃĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” заĐșĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа! ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ Đž ŃаŃплŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”. ĐĐ»ŃĐżĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ±ŃаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń, Ń ĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. Đа ŃĐșŃĐ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” глаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: «ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»Ń "ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐŃĐ”Đ»Ń Â«ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃЎа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°? ĐаŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ ŃаĐșŃĐž, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ°ĐŽŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ”Ń ĐČОЎДŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃОД ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž лОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃДлŃ. ĐŃĐčĐŽŃ ĐžĐ· ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃОбŃĐ»Ń ŃĐșŃаŃĐ”Đœ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐžŃ ŃĐČаЎŃбŃ. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз? ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбалаŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃДагОŃŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ, ŃлОĐČаŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŽĐ”. ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃлДпОŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐČŃЎДлŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ. ĐĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃгОĐČаŃŃ ĐłŃĐ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ŃŃĐŸŃĐČŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșа заŃŃŃла. ĐŃĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČа! ĐаĐș ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽ? ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃЎаŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃазĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃĐœŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃĐ·ŃŃ ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ĐžŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃлО. «ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. Đа ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń ĐČŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ!» ĐĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ ĐłŃĐŸĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐ” плаŃŃĐ” Đž Ń ĐžĐ·ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. «ЄĐČаŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃжД Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». ĐŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃĐž ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃОД ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐżŃДзŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаŃŃŃ? ĐŻ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ!» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃДбД. ĐĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃа ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° заĐșаз ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ”, ОзлŃŃал Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐžĐŒŃŃ Ń Đ°ŃĐžĐ·ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ, - Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. - ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń. ĐŻ ĐČŃĐżŃŃ Đ·Đ° ĐœĐ”Ń». ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃŃĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč лОŃŃ ŃŃОлОлОŃŃ. «ĐĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа? ĐąŃ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃаДŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» ĐĄŃДЎО ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžĐŒŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐșĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃŃĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃĐș ĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž заŃŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. ĐŃа ŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŸŃДлŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐșапаŃŃ Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Ń Đž Ń Đ»ŃĐœŃĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐČŃĐžĐč Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа заŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČал Đ”Ń? ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃŃаŃŃ ŃĐČОЎДŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ĐžŃ Đ»ŃбĐČĐž Đž ŃŃŃŃпОŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? ĐаŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃŃаŃŃ. РаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжаŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃпаŃ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃДла ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐ° бДзŃŃаŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО блŃжЎалО гЎД-ŃĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ĐĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалОŃŃ ŃпаŃŃĐž ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČŃЎаĐČ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃĐ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐŸŃĐșазŃĐČалŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-за ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐ°Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ЎаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč бŃаĐș. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” бабŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, а ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃа ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ŃДзжаŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃла пДŃДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала Đ·ĐČŃĐș аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČОгаŃДлŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа: «ĐаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐлаĐČа 2 ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐč ŃŃĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ? ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐČ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐŃĐŒĐŸĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșŃŃŃ ĐșŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐŒĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ĐżŃОЎаĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. «ЧŃĐŸ, ŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž, Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ?» - ŃДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃалŃŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃĐŸ заŃŃаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ŃжаŃŃŃŃ. ĐĄŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸ-ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃŃаŃŃŃ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃалаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°ŃалŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ, а Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃĐžĐșа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». ĐĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃа Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃĐ”ŃĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ заŃĐ”ŃалŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐžŃ ĐœŃла. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”ŃŃ Đ”Ń, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ»ĐžŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃжД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșаŃ. ĐŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, ŃĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đž пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœŃŃŃ?» ĐŁĐ»ŃбĐșа ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž заŃŃŃла. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐž...» «ĐĐŽĐž Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃŃ, а ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ», - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ĐČŃпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đž ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐłĐœŃŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĄ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОла ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐŽŃŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃДлаŃŃ. ĐаĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč паŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃŃĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœĐ° Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃĐžĐœĐșŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐžĐČ Đ”Ń ŃДаĐșŃĐžŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń Đž ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐžŃаДŃŃ? ĐŻ ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжД ĐČОЎДл». ĐĐžŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”Đ±ŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽŃ Đž ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. «ĐĐŸŃ, ĐČŃпДĐč». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃаблДŃĐșŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ńа ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐČŃДЎОŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»ŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐČОл ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”ŃĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? ĐąŃ Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐžĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐаĐČŃŃа ĐŒŃ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабŃŃĐșĐ”, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžŃŃ?» ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșĐ”, ŃĐżĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ. «ĐĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃŃĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ Đž ĐČŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșĐ”, ĐżŃаĐČЎа». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ... ĐŃ !» ĐŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃпДла ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ĐаŃŃаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐșŃДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃОжалŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Đ”Ń. йаблДŃĐșа Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸ ŃŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃлабОл Ń ĐČаŃĐșŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃбДЎОлŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃОла лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*ŃДлŃŃ Ń ĐаŃŃĐž заĐșŃŃжОлаŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČа, ŃĐŒŃĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃЎа. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń⊠- ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. - ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ». ĐŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃОлО ĐČŃĐ” Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐ” глаза. «ĐĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐž Đ”ŃŃ Ńаз». ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ŃŃĐżŃŃга. «Я ŃĐșазала, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». Đ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃазОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃазОлОŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ¶Đ” Đ”ŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ жД, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. «ĐĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČŃĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐșазаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО ŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃĐž? Đ Đ”ŃŃ ĐžĐŽŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐłĐ°Ń ? - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń. - ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа? ĐŃлО ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО. ĐĐ” ОгŃаĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃĐž ОгŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃŃ ŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа Ńжала ĐșŃлаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃĐžŃĐœŃла Đ·ŃбŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃОл, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Đ”Ń ĐžĐłŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃĐșа ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ? ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Ń Đ°ŃаĐșŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃазĐČДлОŃŃ Đ±Ń, ŃаĐș ĐșаĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃа?» ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńал, глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń . ĐĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃ, а ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃДлОлаŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ. «ĐлО... ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ?» ĐлаĐČа 3 ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐŃĐž ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ»ĐŸ, а ĐČ ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃДЎĐČĐșŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃĐČаĐč ŃДбŃ, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐč ŃĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - ĐąŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃажаŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Ń Đ”Ń Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - ĐĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, ĐаŃа, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОла ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃДл. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃаŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ плаŃа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœŃŃŃĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ. ĐĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ бŃĐșĐČалŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐажД Đ”ŃлО ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐČŃŃаŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃŃОла ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃĐż бДŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐабŃŃĐșа Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃĐșŃДпОŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Đž Đ”Đč ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. Đа ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ŃŃŃĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃОбŃла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·Ń», Đ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐ” заŃĐŽĐ»ŃĐ” ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐŒŃ Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đž ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃŃĐŸ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐĐœĐž ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”?» «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃŃŃŃаОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃпДŃĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, ŃаŃĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐșаĐș лДŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐČŃĐ”Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐżŃблОŃĐœĐŸ заŃĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ !» «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃала, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃĐŽŃŃĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐĐŸŃлД ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐ” ŃлОŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž пДŃДглŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đž заĐșаŃОлО глаза. ĐŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОлО. «Đа Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐаŃа! ĐąŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐșŃĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐč. ĐаĐș ŃŃа ĐžĐœŃĐŸŃĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃДбŃ? ĐаĐČаĐč ĐČŃĐșлаЎŃĐČаĐč!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃала ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐœĐŸ лОŃŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐČ ĐșŃŃŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаĐșжД ŃĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл аŃĐžŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐčŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃОла: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń ĐŸŃДлО ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐČала ĐžŃ ĐżŃДжЎД, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ŃŃпДлО ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐœŃлО ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаĐčŃĐ”ŃŃ Đș ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”!» ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОŃа ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐžŃ , ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČа, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃлО». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐČĐŸŃŃаŃŃ. «ĐĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎŃŃ. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ». «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ, ĐŒŃ ŃĐ”ŃОлО, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșаĐșОД-ŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃЎДлŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” бŃал ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ, ĐœŃ Đž ŃŃĐŸ Оз ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃŃлаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·!» «ĐŃ ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐčĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃŃŃОл Đ±Ń ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°ŃĐžŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ”?» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» ĐŃ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž бДзŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Đ”Ń ĐČОЎŃŃ ŃŃĐž, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń, ĐŽŃŃжДлŃĐ±ĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃŃпДла, ĐșаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃпОл ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃĐ”Đč ŃжД ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃлОŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃала ĐČĐ”ŃĐž, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń Đ»ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃга, ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐŃĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ. ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐаŃĐČаŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐżŃаĐČЎа». ĐĐŸĐŽŃŃга Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа?!» Đа ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸ-пДŃĐČŃŃ , ĐŒŃ Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžŃĐșĐ»ŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșаĐșĐžŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабŃŃĐșа. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ»ŃбОŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐžŃĐżŃŃŃĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. «ĐĐŸâŠ Đ ĐșаĐș жД ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș? РазĐČĐ” ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз?» «РŃŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Ń Đ»Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃŃŃĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ĐлО ŃжаŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃа Đž ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. - Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ». «ХДŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ, ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ? ĐąŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ°? - Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃлО ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ŃДбД ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐœŃŃ ŃаŃŃО». «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ, Ń ŃжД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃДЎĐșŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃаŃĐŸĐč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”? - Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČŃпалОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃаŃŃĐ”! ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа ĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐČ ŃДбŃ! ĐąŃ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń! ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ, ĐĄĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа! ĐĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃаŃĐžĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ!» «ХĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа...» - ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃĐč ĐżŃĐ”ĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. РаЎО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃла ŃДбŃ, ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž забŃĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ. «ĐаŃа», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. ĐĐ·ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đž ŃĐČОЎДла за ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșа ĐČ ĐŽŃŃ ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐČŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”ŃĐ”?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃалО ĐČŃаŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ , Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. ĐапŃĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ заĐČĐ”ŃŃОла ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа Đ»ŃбŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČа. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”?» - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃ ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČаŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «Я... ĐŃĐŸŃŃО». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒŃĐșĐœŃĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃŃДл, бŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸĐŽŃ. - ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃДбŃĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃĐżŃŃŃĐČĐ°Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃŃал лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐаŃĐČаŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, ŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ±Ń ŃаĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐĐœĐž ŃОЎДлО ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐž ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ЧŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ?» ĐĐłĐŸ глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгал ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ°Ń Đș ŃДалŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. «ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ°. «ĐĐ”ŃжДлО?» - Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ ĐаŃŃĐž бДŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ заĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃŃла ŃĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ”Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. «ĐŃлО ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃŃŃĐș, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° заŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐș. ĐŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === ĐĐ»Ń ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа. Đа заĐșŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČал. ĐаŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ŃжаŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ. ĐĄ ŃŃжŃĐ»ŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ, oĐœ ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact- | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact-rur25_2-1115-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=254141414030583&rawadid=120213796282420752 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467556178_1264694981385621_1408561141787342949_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=TYdteH8ipSEQ7kNvgHpa_3y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjulZS9jthwP0GwFwmYGlKG&oh=00_AYBPa2Yr1raLgHYyzw-sH_fPSOX7Pvr5kOumS5NIo96lbg&oe=674DAE9E | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 19:52 | active | 1932 | 0 | ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 925 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | VIDEO | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381429180790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466139348_2360430320974709_7314756996736954959_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ksNNTFwvHX0Q7kNvgFR1NZQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ATr_G60ZXfb2zTLjCtJ76Tw&oh=00_AYBafDg4ESRAyomMTOnnMvpDacb_ao9B3C2WpOZqjmMU1g&oe=674DA8F7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ХбДжаĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа | ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃла ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐŒŃжа ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, ŃĐșŃŃла бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ŃŃла Ń ŃазбОŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ. ===== «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ! ĐĐ°Ń ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČ». ĐаŃŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа ĐČŃŃла Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐżŃĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” заĐșĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа! ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ Đž ŃаŃплŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”. ĐĐ»ŃĐżĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ±ŃаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń, Ń ĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. Đа ŃĐșŃĐ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” глаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: «ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»Ń "ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐŃĐ”Đ»Ń Â«ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃЎа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°? ĐаŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ ŃаĐșŃĐž, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ°ĐŽŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ”Ń ĐČОЎДŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃОД ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž лОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃДлŃ. ĐŃĐčĐŽŃ ĐžĐ· ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃОбŃĐ»Ń ŃĐșŃаŃĐ”Đœ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐžŃ ŃĐČаЎŃбŃ. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз? ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбалаŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃДагОŃŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ, ŃлОĐČаŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŽĐ”. ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃлДпОŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐČŃЎДлŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ. ĐĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃгОĐČаŃŃ ĐłŃĐ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ŃŃĐŸŃĐČŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșа заŃŃŃла. ĐŃĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČа! ĐаĐș ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽ? ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃЎаŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃазĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃĐœŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃĐ·ŃŃ ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ĐžŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃлО. «ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. Đа ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń ĐČŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ!» ĐĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ ĐłŃĐŸĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐ” плаŃŃĐ” Đž Ń ĐžĐ·ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. «ЄĐČаŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃжД Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». ĐŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃĐž ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃОД ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐżŃДзŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаŃŃŃ? ĐŻ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ!» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃДбД. ĐĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃа ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° заĐșаз ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ”, ОзлŃŃал Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐžĐŒŃŃ Ń Đ°ŃĐžĐ·ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ, - Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. - ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń. ĐŻ ĐČŃĐżŃŃ Đ·Đ° ĐœĐ”Ń». ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃŃĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč лОŃŃ ŃŃОлОлОŃŃ. «ĐĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа? ĐąŃ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃаДŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» ĐĄŃДЎО ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžĐŒŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐșĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃŃĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃĐș ĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž заŃŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. ĐŃа ŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŸŃДлŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐșапаŃŃ Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Ń Đž Ń Đ»ŃĐœŃĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐČŃĐžĐč Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа заŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČал Đ”Ń? ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃŃаŃŃ ŃĐČОЎДŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ĐžŃ Đ»ŃбĐČĐž Đž ŃŃŃŃпОŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? ĐаŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃŃаŃŃ. РаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжаŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃпаŃ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃДла ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐ° бДзŃŃаŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО блŃжЎалО гЎД-ŃĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ĐĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалОŃŃ ŃпаŃŃĐž ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČŃЎаĐČ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃĐ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐŸŃĐșазŃĐČалŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-за ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐ°Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ЎаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč бŃаĐș. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” бабŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, а ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃа ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ŃДзжаŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃла пДŃДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала Đ·ĐČŃĐș аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČОгаŃДлŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа: «ĐаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐлаĐČа 2 ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐč ŃŃĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ? ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐČ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐŃĐŒĐŸĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșŃŃŃ ĐșŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐŒĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ĐżŃОЎаĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. «ЧŃĐŸ, ŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž, Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ?» - ŃДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃалŃŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃĐŸ заŃŃаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ŃжаŃŃŃŃ. ĐĄŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸ-ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃŃаŃŃŃ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃалаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°ŃалŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ, а Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃĐžĐșа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». ĐĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃа Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃĐ”ŃĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ заŃĐ”ŃалŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐžŃ ĐœŃла. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”ŃŃ Đ”Ń, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ»ĐžŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃжД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșаŃ. ĐŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, ŃĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đž пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœŃŃŃ?» ĐŁĐ»ŃбĐșа ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž заŃŃŃла. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐž...» «ĐĐŽĐž Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃŃ, а ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ», - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ĐČŃпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đž ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐłĐœŃŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĄ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОла ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐŽŃŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃДлаŃŃ. ĐаĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč паŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃŃĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœĐ° Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃĐžĐœĐșŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐžĐČ Đ”Ń ŃДаĐșŃĐžŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń Đž ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐžŃаДŃŃ? ĐŻ ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжД ĐČОЎДл». ĐĐžŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”Đ±ŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽŃ Đž ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. «ĐĐŸŃ, ĐČŃпДĐč». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃаблДŃĐșŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ńа ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐČŃДЎОŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»ŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐČОл ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”ŃĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? ĐąŃ Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐžĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐаĐČŃŃа ĐŒŃ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабŃŃĐșĐ”, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžŃŃ?» ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșĐ”, ŃĐżĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ. «ĐĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃŃĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ Đž ĐČŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșĐ”, ĐżŃаĐČЎа». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ... ĐŃ !» ĐŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃпДла ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ĐаŃŃаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐșŃДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃОжалŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Đ”Ń. йаблДŃĐșа Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸ ŃŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃлабОл Ń ĐČаŃĐșŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃбДЎОлŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃОла лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*ŃДлŃŃ Ń ĐаŃŃĐž заĐșŃŃжОлаŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČа, ŃĐŒŃĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃЎа. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń⊠- ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. - ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ». ĐŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃОлО ĐČŃĐ” Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐ” глаза. «ĐĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐž Đ”ŃŃ Ńаз». ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ŃŃĐżŃŃга. «Я ŃĐșазала, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». Đ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃазОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃазОлОŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ¶Đ” Đ”ŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ жД, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. «ĐĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČŃĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐșазаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО ŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃĐž? Đ Đ”ŃŃ ĐžĐŽŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐłĐ°Ń ? - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń. - ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа? ĐŃлО ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО. ĐĐ” ОгŃаĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃĐž ОгŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃŃ ŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа Ńжала ĐșŃлаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃĐžŃĐœŃла Đ·ŃбŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃОл, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Đ”Ń ĐžĐłŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃĐșа ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ? ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Ń Đ°ŃаĐșŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃазĐČДлОŃŃ Đ±Ń, ŃаĐș ĐșаĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃа?» ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńал, глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń . ĐĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃ, а ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃДлОлаŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ. «ĐлО... ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ?» ĐлаĐČа 3 ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐŃĐž ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ»ĐŸ, а ĐČ ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃДЎĐČĐșŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃĐČаĐč ŃДбŃ, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐč ŃĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - ĐąŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃажаŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Ń Đ”Ń Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - ĐĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, ĐаŃа, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОла ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃДл. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃаŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ плаŃа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœŃŃŃĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ. ĐĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ бŃĐșĐČалŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐажД Đ”ŃлО ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐČŃŃаŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃŃОла ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃĐż бДŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐабŃŃĐșа Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃĐșŃДпОŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Đž Đ”Đč ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. Đа ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ŃŃŃĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃОбŃла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·Ń», Đ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐ” заŃĐŽĐ»ŃĐ” ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐŒŃ Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đž ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃŃĐŸ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐĐœĐž ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”?» «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃŃŃŃаОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃпДŃĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, ŃаŃĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐșаĐș лДŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐČŃĐ”Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐżŃблОŃĐœĐŸ заŃĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ !» «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃала, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃĐŽŃŃĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐĐŸŃлД ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐ” ŃлОŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž пДŃДглŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đž заĐșаŃОлО глаза. ĐŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОлО. «Đа Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐаŃа! ĐąŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐșŃĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐč. ĐаĐș ŃŃа ĐžĐœŃĐŸŃĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃДбŃ? ĐаĐČаĐč ĐČŃĐșлаЎŃĐČаĐč!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃала ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐœĐŸ лОŃŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐČ ĐșŃŃŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаĐșжД ŃĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл аŃĐžŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐčŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃОла: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń ĐŸŃДлО ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐČала ĐžŃ ĐżŃДжЎД, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ŃŃпДлО ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐœŃлО ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаĐčŃĐ”ŃŃ Đș ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”!» ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОŃа ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐžŃ , ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČа, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃлО». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐČĐŸŃŃаŃŃ. «ĐĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎŃŃ. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ». «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ, ĐŒŃ ŃĐ”ŃОлО, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșаĐșОД-ŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃЎДлŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” бŃал ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ, ĐœŃ Đž ŃŃĐŸ Оз ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃŃлаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·!» «ĐŃ ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐčĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃŃŃОл Đ±Ń ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°ŃĐžŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ”?» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» ĐŃ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž бДзŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Đ”Ń ĐČОЎŃŃ ŃŃĐž, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń, ĐŽŃŃжДлŃĐ±ĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃŃпДла, ĐșаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃпОл ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃĐ”Đč ŃжД ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃлОŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃала ĐČĐ”ŃĐž, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń Đ»ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃга, ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐŃĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ. ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐаŃĐČаŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐżŃаĐČЎа». ĐĐŸĐŽŃŃга Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа?!» Đа ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸ-пДŃĐČŃŃ , ĐŒŃ Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžŃĐșĐ»ŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșаĐșĐžŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабŃŃĐșа. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ»ŃбОŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐžŃĐżŃŃŃĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. «ĐĐŸâŠ Đ ĐșаĐș жД ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș? РазĐČĐ” ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз?» «РŃŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Ń Đ»Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃŃŃĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ĐлО ŃжаŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃа Đž ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. - Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ». «ХДŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ, ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ? ĐąŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ°? - Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃлО ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ŃДбД ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐœŃŃ ŃаŃŃО». «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ, Ń ŃжД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃДЎĐșŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃаŃĐŸĐč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”? - Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČŃпалОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃаŃŃĐ”! ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа ĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐČ ŃДбŃ! ĐąŃ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń! ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ, ĐĄĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа! ĐĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃаŃĐžĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ!» «ХĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа...» - ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃĐč ĐżŃĐ”ĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. РаЎО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃла ŃДбŃ, ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž забŃĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ. «ĐаŃа», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. ĐĐ·ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đž ŃĐČОЎДла за ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșа ĐČ ĐŽŃŃ ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐČŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”ŃĐ”?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃалО ĐČŃаŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ , Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. ĐапŃĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ заĐČĐ”ŃŃОла ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа Đ»ŃбŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČа. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”?» - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃ ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČаŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «Я... ĐŃĐŸŃŃО». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒŃĐșĐœŃĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃŃДл, бŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸĐŽŃ. - ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃДбŃĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃĐżŃŃŃĐČĐ°Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃŃал лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐаŃĐČаŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, ŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ±Ń ŃаĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐĐœĐž ŃОЎДлО ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐž ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ЧŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ?» ĐĐłĐŸ глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгал ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ°Ń Đș ŃДалŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. «ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ°. «ĐĐ”ŃжДлО?» - Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ ĐаŃŃĐž бДŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ заĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃŃла ŃĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ”Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. «ĐŃлО ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃŃŃĐș, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° заŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐș. ĐŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === ĐĐ»Ń ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа. Đа заĐșŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČал. ĐаŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ŃжаŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ. ĐĄ ŃŃжŃĐ»ŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ, oĐœ ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact- | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact-rur25_2-1115-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=24136114349335317&rawadid=120214476964950319 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467352055_544286385008436_5759413136266443956_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UrUahlki278Q7kNvgGFxiax&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A8hrHaz8lCl9tyvqPmIIHAR&oh=00_AYD4AFUHsVIVupeNCBWyGTWeHYLgCKXm33HKKyW5auGHjg&oe=674D78DB | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Neil Somner entrusts his granddaughter, Freya Somner, to an old patient he saved back in the day. The patient promises that he'll have his grandson marry Freya. The man disappears right after he and Freya register their marriage. When they meet again two years later, he's an army captain, and she's a brave, calm doctor in the emergency room. To keep Freya out of danger, Daniel Talbot uses his influence and clout to transfer her out of the emergency room. Unbeknownst to him, his rival in love is waiting for Freya in the new department. It's one of Daniel's rare moments of failure. One day, Daniel asks Freya, "What do you think of me?" She looks at him. "I'm not going to comment on that. I don't know you." He stands in her way, refusing to let her go. "You can get to know me now." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465363118_1068771147804090_8770423159999719943_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mtwzBuZETpkQ7kNvgHGSZal&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AS76z34zUrbEUjV0Zlyt9QC&oh=00_AYBjd4GJM6Zdc_R3Q516r5UsCmlEO-TeW0t2uJTuCnI0cg&oe=674DAA14 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⊠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⊠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⊠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⊠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=41iAW8r1fuMQ7kNvgHdJ9e3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYDAfcyeO8Wm1wg4St4hBWJimUl_Z5G74KZ5rVCn-UTZnw&oe=674D7E5F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Illinois Basketball Ticket Giveaway | Big Four Customers are invited to come out and try their hand at WINNING 4 Illinois basketball tickets (December 10 Wisconsin at Illinois Game). Names will be drawn to compete in a contest to be announced that night. | EVENT_RSVP | https://www.facebook.com/events/2046616029091894/ | The Big Four Tavern | https://www.facebook.com/100063673238924/ | 1,700 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | INTERESTED | 0 | Illinois Basketball Ticket Giveaway | EVENT | Big Four Customers are invited to come out and try their hand at winning 4 Illinois basketball tickets (December 10 Wisconsin at Illinois Game). Names will be drawn to compete in a contest to be announced that night. | https://www.facebook.com/events/2046616029091894/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468553895_512206661799532_5526824829928452085_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hXwLi8NFjQkQ7kNvgGAFPEW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AYvsDREgfR0CC8zQwCqcWIO&oh=00_AYB77GQ2t3GdZabCh0dnPaYIVBCumGpO7cfgQoaCZhlB3A&oe=674D8409 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | The Big Four Tavern | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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