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No 2024-11-27 19:13 active 1931 0 đŸ’„2 for $39.9, 3 for $49.9đŸ’„ 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
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Yes 2024-11-27 18:48 active 1930 0 Download Now👉👉👉 The Vampire and His Blood wife ONLY on Drama Time.🎬 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
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:13 active 1931 0 Read next chapter👉 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, Mitchel’s 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 it’s 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 Raegan’s 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
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No 2024-11-27 19:51 active 1932 0 Fall Savings! SHOP_NOW https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-N Cornerstone Equipment https://www.facebook.com/CornerstoneEquipmentKY/ 4,546 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Shop Now 0 kycornerstone.com CAROUSEL https://www.kycornerstone.com/New-Inventory-2024-New-Holland-Construction-Compact-Track-Loader-Compact-Track-Loaders-C345-Franklin-Furnace-OH-16430993?ref=list 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467942627_538614129147722_1959221494560926721_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ugx7muqqjVIQ7kNvgGJuUW-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ab8gd9HhX-a-RdcqnCeUGD4&oh=00_AYB5773PdnMA4atxdrK_rGT6eJCaFy5NXfR3tH0cTbRZKA&oe=674D8549 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Cornerstone Equipment 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:50 active 1932 0 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? 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No 2024-11-27 19:49 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "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 her—her 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 won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s 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 don’t 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 Barrett’s 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 estate’s 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, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t 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-" "That’s 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." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” 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 family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” 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 — 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 family’s former glory seemed impossible—at 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 family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... 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 Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” 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. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... 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
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No 2024-11-27 19:47 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "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 obligations—all 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
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Yes 2024-11-27 18:37 active 1929 0 BIGO LIVE - Live Stream, Live Games, Chat Rooms Online It’s time for ONE MORE BLACK FRIDAY GIVE AWAY! This time with a Brand New Dino 👀🍔 If you buy at least $10 worth of diamonds using our Fast Recharge (either at our link in bio or at m.bigopay.tv) you’ll 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 don’t worry, in addition we’ll also be selecting 3 random lucky spenders 👀 The Rules are simple: 🩃 Buy at least $10 worth of diamonds (using our link in bio or at m.bigopay.tv) 🩃 Follow us @bigolive.usa and repost this post on your story. Comment a 🍔 below when you’ve done both 🩃 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
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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
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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
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No 2024-11-27 19:58 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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... “Heart pacemaker! Quick! Increase the voltage!” The intern nurse is trembling, covered in blood. The operating room reeks of blood. The woman on the bed is pale and whispering, “ Juan
” “What?” The nurse leans closer. “ Juan
” He’s the powerful president of a major company! The doctor, panicking, misdials before finally reaching him: “President Juan, your wife is about to die. You might want to come say goodbye.” Coldly, he replies, “Is she still alive? Call me when she’s gone.” 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 self—she 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. “Madam, your husband wants to take you to the auction tonight. What do you want to wear?” A familiar voice pulls her back. Everything looks familiar, it’s her and Juan’s new home! This was five years ago when he needed her for an auction. Could it be
 she’s 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
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No 2024-11-27 18:33 active 1929 0 🎉 The Night Before Thanksgiving is here! We’ll be closed tomorrow, so join us tonight to celebrate with Crazy Norse and cheers to the holiday. Because we’re so thankful for YOU, we’re giving away a $50 gift card! 💌 Giveaway Time 💌 To enter: 1ïžâƒŁ Like this post 2ïžâƒŁ Share it 3ïžâƒŁ Comment your favorite Barleycorn’s memory Note: We’ll reply directly to the winner’s comment on this post. We’ll never send a friend request, DM a link, or ask for personal information. Winner announced Friday! Good luck! đŸ» #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
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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 💕 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
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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 fiancé 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?" 

 ==== "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
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:50 active 1932 0 ХбДжаĐČшая Đ–Đ”ĐœĐ° ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ Дё ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČЮруг ĐŸĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ° ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐč любĐČĐž. ДДĐČушĐșа ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° глазах ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, сĐșрыла Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ушла с Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±ĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ. ===== Â«Đ“ĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ! Ваш Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČ». Дарья Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČа ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐČ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș груЮо ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” заĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°! ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐč ĐČсё Дщё ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”. Đ“Đ»ŃƒĐżĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ, Дарья ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ńƒ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€, у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. На эĐșŃ€Đ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: Â«ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ прОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ "Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ Â«Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœĐ° туЮа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°? Дарья Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐșсО, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ŃŃƒ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу супруг Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Дё ĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžĐ” ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŽ. ВыĐčЮя Оз ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ±ŃŽĐ»ŃŒ уĐșŃ€Đ°ŃˆĐ”Đœ цĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșу. Дарья ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»Đ°, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ох сĐČĐ°ĐŽŃŒĐ±Ń‹. ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Дё ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЮа, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюрпрОз? Дарья ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Дарья ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃƒ, слОĐČаясь с ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃĐŽĐ”. ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșрасоĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ŃŃ срДЎО Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ‹. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ох Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа. Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ растягоĐČать ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшую Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœŃƒ, Đž Дё ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșа застыла. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČа! КаĐș ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽ? Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ проĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° разĐČлДĐșают ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃƒŃŽ пару. Đ”Ń€ŃƒĐ·ŃŒŃ ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ох Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, с Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đž. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ты ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. За ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČыпоть!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșох лДт ĐČы с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ!» ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃ‡Đ”. ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” Đž с ОзысĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. «ЄĐČатот ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ужД Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». Про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Дарьо ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ·Ń€Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒŃ? ĐŻ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃŽ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ бабушĐșу!» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° тДбД. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃ†Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃŃˆĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° заĐșаз ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒĐ”, ĐžĐ·Đ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒŃŽ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒŃƒŃŽ Ń…Đ°Ń€ĐžĐ·ĐŒŃƒ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, хĐČатот. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃƒ, - Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. - ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚. ĐŻ ĐČыпью за ĐœĐ”Ń‘Â». ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃˆŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒŃĐžĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. «ЭĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта? бы Дё Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» ХрДЎО ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșох ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐłĐŸĐ»Đșах Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃƒŃĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃ‘Đș ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшая Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‡ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. Эта ярĐșая Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃ†Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° сДрЎцД Дарьо. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž Đșапать Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČДтДр Đž Ń…Đ»Ń‹ĐœŃƒĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžĐČшОĐč Дё ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‚ĐșĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. Đ—Đ°Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČал Дё? ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșа, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ застаĐČоть Дё стать сĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ох любĐČĐž Đž уступоть ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒĐ” ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸ Юышать. Đ Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČшось, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ступая, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ…, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž блужЎалО гЎД-Ń‚ĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ДĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ Дарьо ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ спасто сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČыЮаĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за прДЎстаĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșазыĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-за Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ°Ń бабушĐșа ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ЎаĐČоть ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ…ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐč браĐș. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČŃŒĐ” бабушĐșĐž ŃƒĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, а ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČДщО Đž ŃƒĐ”Đ·Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° пДрДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐČуĐș аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐžĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°: Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ГлаĐČа 2 ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ В ĐŸŃ†Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ЕĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”Ń‰ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ? Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДт Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ сДĐčчас ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ с Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта ĐŸŃ‚ Дарьо. Đ’Ń‹ĐŒĐŸĐșшая ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșрую Đșрысу. Đ”Đ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ‹, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… стДĐșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, прОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ щДĐșĐ°ĐŒ, проЮаĐČая Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ, чёрт ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž, с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ?» - рДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚. Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ застаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дё сДрЎцД ŃĐ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸ-Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”. Пытаясь спраĐČоться с Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŽ, Дарья застаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃŒ, а у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃ‚ĐžĐșа, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». Đ’ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ° у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‡Đ”ŃĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡ĐžŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Дё, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. «йы ужД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая. ЕслО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, Ń‚ĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃ‹Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ тДбД ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ?» УлыбĐșа ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо застыла. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž...» «ИЎО Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃŃ, а Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃÂ», - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČыпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Дё Đž ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ĐłĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč Ўуш, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ЗаĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ путо Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐșтоĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșрДпчД сжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ” ĐœĐ° груЮо. Đ—Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐČ Đ”Ń‘ рДаĐșцою, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Đž раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ? ĐŻ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ужД ĐČОЎДл». Đ›ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дарьо Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșрасĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ”Đ±Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽŃ‹ Đž стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚, ĐČыпДĐč». Дарья ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° таблДтĐșу, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ та ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Ń‹ŃˆŃƒ. Â«Đ”ŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčЮусь бДз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” таĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐČОл ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. «йы ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”Ń€ĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? бы Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș проĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ЗаĐČтра ĐŒŃ‹ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабушĐșĐ”, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžŃˆŃŒ?» ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Дарья, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ ĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ”, ŃƒĐżĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČыпоть Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ Ń‚Ń‘ĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž ĐČсё. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșĐ”, праĐČЎа». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐČ Ń€ĐŸŃ‚ Đž сЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты... Ах!» ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Дарья успДла ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČышаясь ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ЗастаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœ ĐșрДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃƒĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Дё. йаблДтĐșа Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐŸ рту, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ»Đ°Đ±ĐžĐ» хĐČатĐșу, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° лДĐșарстĐČĐŸ. От ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*Ń†Đ”Đ»ŃƒŃ у Дарьо заĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČа, ŃĐŒŃ‹ĐČая ĐČсД Дё запрДты. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČать Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ°. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, я
 - ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, пытаясь ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. - ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒÂ». Её ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃĐžĐ»Đž ĐČсД Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. На Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОцД ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, застаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đ” глаза. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đž Дщё раз». ХДрЎцД Дарьо ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČоть Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ супруга. «Я сĐșазала, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». В глазах Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ?» Дарью ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. А ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ жД Дщё? ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ жД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČŃˆĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО Ń„ĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČыД Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž? Đ Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ оЮёт ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐ°Ń…? - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘. - Даша, ты разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ°? ЕслО тДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО. ĐĐ” ограĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đž огры, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ эту Ń‡ŃƒŃˆŃŒÂ». Дарья ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° сжала ĐșулаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃ‚ĐžŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ·ŃƒĐ±Ń‹. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Дё огр, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đșа ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать сотуацою ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń…? ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ глазах ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐșŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đœ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ ĐČсё раĐČĐœĐŸ разĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы, таĐș ĐșаĐșая Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°?» ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДчал, ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń…. Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дарью ĐČ Ń‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ, а ĐČ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ трДĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹. «ИлО... ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ?» ГлаĐČа 3 Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Про ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, сДрЎцД Дарьо Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»ĐŸ, а ĐČ ĐłŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ прДЎĐČĐșŃƒŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° Дё ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃ‹ĐČаĐč ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČыĐč Ń‚ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ» Дё, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - бы ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я буЎу ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - сĐČĐ”Ń€Đ»Ń Дё Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - Đ—Đ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, Даша, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ты ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° разĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚ĐŸ ушДл. Дарья ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃ‡Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ плача, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° руĐșу ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ‚, чуĐČстĐČуя, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ растёт ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ. Đ˜Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ буĐșĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ чДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Đ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ супруга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Дё Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ДажД ДслО ĐŸĐœĐž Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐčЮутся, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐČырастоть Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‰ŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° проступ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Đ‘Đ°Đ±ŃƒŃˆĐșа Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ уĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČсё ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Đž Đ”Đč ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ уĐčто с ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. На ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Дарья прОбыла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·ŃŒÂ», Дё ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đ” Đ·Đ°ŃĐŽĐ»Ń‹Đ” ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐŒŃ‹ жЎалО Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČсё ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐžĐœĐž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”?» Â«ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐžĐČаДт ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșу ĐČ Ń‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒĐœĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒĐżĐ”Ń€ĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, Ń€Đ°ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐșаĐș Đ»Đ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń€. ĐžĐœ прОгласОл ĐČсДх сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐŸĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃƒĐ±Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐČоть ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ…!» «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. ĐœĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» Дарья ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐ” слОшĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đž заĐșатОлО глаза. ОчДĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČДрОлО. «Да Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Даша! бы жД сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐč. КаĐș эта ĐžĐœŃ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐ°Ń†ĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐčто ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń? ДаĐČаĐč ĐČыĐșлаЎыĐČаĐč!» Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ВсД Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дарья Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ былО ĐČ ĐșŃƒŃ€ŃĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° таĐșжД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ°Ń„ĐžŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčчоĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽ, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČатот ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČоть ĐœĐ° Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐČала ох прДжЎД, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž успДлО ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Вас ĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČращаĐčŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ Đș Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ”!» Её ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОца ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ох, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ праĐČа, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ушла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐšĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎёт. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒÂ». «Да, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° тро ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŒŃ‹ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐșаĐșОД-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ с ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” брал ĐœĐ° ĐČстрДчО с ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐŒĐž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ, ĐœŃƒ Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Оз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ услаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń глаз!» «Её ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČыĐčЎДт Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, Дашу уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ‚ пДрĐČĐŸĐč. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» бы ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ”?» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» Их ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń‚ĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ Дарья, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Дё ĐČоЮят это, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бы, ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° с ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐžŃ‰Đ”ĐŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ” успДла, ĐșаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ» ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ сДĐșрДтарДĐč ужД Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČДщО, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°, ВарĐČара Đ›ŃƒĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐŒ. Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ…Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ВарĐČары, Дарья Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ праĐČЎа». ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта?!» За ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Дарья ĐČсё ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«Đ’ĐŸ-пДрĐČых, ĐŒŃ‹ с Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ОсĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșаĐșох чуĐČстĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабушĐșа. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ любОт, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться. ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃÂ». ВарĐČара оспытыĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Â«ĐĐŸâ€Š А ĐșаĐș жД Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș? РазĐČĐ” ты ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ сюрпрОз?» «А ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐ”Ń‚ лО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‡ŃƒĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃŃŽŃ€ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ИлО ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - Дарья ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃ‚Đ° Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. - В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, я ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĄĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœĐŸ, разĐČĐŸĐŽ? бы ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°? - с Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ВарĐČара. - ЕслО ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, тДбД проЮётся уĐčто с Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐœŃ‘Ń‚ растО». Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся, я ужД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžŃ‚ŃŃÂ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Дё ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ забытых ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Ń‚Đ°Ń… ĐČызĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо рДЎĐșую ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. Â«Đ‘ĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! Даша, ты ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒŃŃ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Đ”? - с ĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČыпалОла ВарĐČара. - Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ°ŃŽŃ‰Đ”! ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа ĐČДрОла ĐČ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń! бы ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń€! Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃ€Đ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹, ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČа! ĐĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ растрачоĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚, Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń ĐČсД это ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ‹ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚!» «ХĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČа...» - ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Дарья, ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ забытыĐč псДĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. РаЎО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž забыĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°Â», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. Đ’Đ·ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČ, Дарья ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž уĐČОЎДла за сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ГлаĐČа 4 Đ‘ŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșа ĐČ ĐŽŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... я ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŽ ĐČ ĐČОЎу, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДтД?» Дарью засталО ĐČŃ€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ заĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€, пытаясь ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹ŃĐșать ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ†Đ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° любыД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČа. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? КаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ бабушĐșу ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”?» - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ… ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°: «Я... ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŒŃ‹ĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ”Đ», Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. - ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐžŃˆĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ Дарья прДбыĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐž. ИспытыĐČая ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃƒŃŽ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° с трДĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đ» лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Дё Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ с ВарĐČĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ДслО бы супруг ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, Ń‚ĐŸ сДĐčчас ĐœĐ” был бы таĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐžĐœĐž сОЎДлО Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč Ń‚ĐžŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Про ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Дарьо ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бДз ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń… Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, слДгĐșа ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚?» Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Đ» Дарью, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČращая Đș Ń€Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Â«ĐĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ°. Â«ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž?» - с ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃ‘Ń ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ Дарьо Đ±Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐŸ заĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сДрЎцД. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đșрыла Ń€ĐŸŃ‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с Дё ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. «ЕслО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ пустяĐș, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸĐș. ĐšŃ€Đ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза Дарья Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === Đ”Đ»Ń ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°. За заĐșŃ€Ń‹Ń‚Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČал. Дарья была счастлОĐČа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, уĐČлёĐșся сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью. ĐĄ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Ń‘Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, oĐœ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»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
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'{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'
Yes 2024-11-27 19:52 active 1932 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ аĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тД ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы заĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚Đșазал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșа ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, а Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ за ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ за ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО за ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡Đșа. ЧуĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČаĐș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, а?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу за Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČа 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșазал ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё за руĐșу Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčтД ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČал запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČал Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșазал: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, а Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșазал Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč за ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșаĐș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был за Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ВыпДĐčтД Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” за Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșа. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ заĐčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșа сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČа 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČызĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČёл Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșа была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČЎаĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† заĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ заĐșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČёл ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșа. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČал ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșазал Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșазал ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČал Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČал Дё. ГлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșа ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčтД ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČа ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось за сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČызĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșазал глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșаĐș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČа Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ўа? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»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
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No 2024-11-27 19:50 active 1932 0 ХбДжаĐČшая Đ–Đ”ĐœĐ° ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ Дё ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČЮруг ĐŸĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ° ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐč любĐČĐž. ДДĐČушĐșа ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° глазах ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, сĐșрыла Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ушла с Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±ĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ. ===== Â«Đ“ĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ! Ваш Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČ». Дарья Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČа ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐČ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș груЮо ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” заĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°! ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐč ĐČсё Дщё ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”. Đ“Đ»ŃƒĐżĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ, Дарья ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ńƒ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșаĐș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€, у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. На эĐșŃ€Đ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: Â«ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ прОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ "Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ Â«Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœĐ° туЮа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°? Дарья Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐșсО, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ŃŃƒ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу супруг Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Дё ĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžĐ” ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŽ. ВыĐčЮя Оз ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ±ŃŽĐ»ŃŒ уĐșŃ€Đ°ŃˆĐ”Đœ цĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșу. Дарья ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»Đ°, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ох сĐČĐ°ĐŽŃŒĐ±Ń‹. ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Дё ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЮа, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюрпрОз? Дарья ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Дарья ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃƒ, слОĐČаясь с ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃĐŽĐ”. ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșрасоĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ŃŃ срДЎО Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ‹. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ох Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа. Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ растягоĐČать ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшую Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœŃƒ, Đž Дё ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșа застыла. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČа! КаĐș ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽ? Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ проĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° разĐČлДĐșают ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃƒŃŽ пару. Đ”Ń€ŃƒĐ·ŃŒŃ ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ох Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, с Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đž. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ты ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. За ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČыпоть!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșох лДт ĐČы с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ!» ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃ‡Đ”. ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” Đž с ОзысĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. «ЄĐČатот ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ужД Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». Про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Дарьо ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ·Ń€Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒŃ? ĐŻ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃŽ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ бабушĐșу!» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° тДбД. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃ†Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃŃˆĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° заĐșаз ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒĐ”, ĐžĐ·Đ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒŃŽ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒŃƒŃŽ Ń…Đ°Ń€ĐžĐ·ĐŒŃƒ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, хĐČатот. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃƒ, - Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ сĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. - ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚. ĐŻ ĐČыпью за ĐœĐ”Ń‘Â». ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃˆŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒŃĐžĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. «ЭĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта? бы Дё Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» ХрДЎО ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșох ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐłĐŸĐ»Đșах Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃƒŃĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃ‘Đș ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшая Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‡ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. Эта ярĐșая Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃ†Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° сДрЎцД Дарьо. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž Đșапать Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČДтДр Đž Ń…Đ»Ń‹ĐœŃƒĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžĐČшОĐč Дё ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‚ĐșĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. Đ—Đ°Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČал Дё? ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșа, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ застаĐČоть Дё стать сĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ох любĐČĐž Đž уступоть ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒĐ” ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸ Юышать. Đ Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČшось, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ступая, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ…, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž блужЎалО гЎД-Ń‚ĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ДĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ Дарьо ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ спасто сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČыЮаĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за прДЎстаĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșазыĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-за Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ°Ń бабушĐșа ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ЎаĐČоть ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ…ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐč браĐș. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČŃŒĐ” бабушĐșĐž ŃƒĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, а ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČДщО Đž ŃƒĐ”Đ·Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° пДрДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐČуĐș аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐžĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°: Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ГлаĐČа 2 ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ В ĐŸŃ†Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ЕĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”Ń‰ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ? Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДт Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-за ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ сДĐčчас ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ с Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта ĐŸŃ‚ Дарьо. Đ’Ń‹ĐŒĐŸĐșшая ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșрую Đșрысу. Đ”Đ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ‹, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… стДĐșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, прОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ щДĐșĐ°ĐŒ, проЮаĐČая Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ, чёрт ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž, с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ?» - рДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚. Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ застаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дё сДрЎцД ŃĐ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸ-Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”. Пытаясь спраĐČоться с Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŽ, Дарья застаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃŒ, а у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃ‚ĐžĐșа, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». Đ’ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ° у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‡Đ”ŃĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡ĐžŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Дё, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. «йы ужД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая. ЕслО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, Ń‚ĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃ‹Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ тДбД ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ?» УлыбĐșа ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо застыла. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž...» «ИЎО Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃŃ, а Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃÂ», - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČыпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, а Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Дё Đž ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ĐłĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč Ўуш, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ЗаĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ путо Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐșтоĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșрДпчД сжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ” ĐœĐ° груЮо. Đ—Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐČ Đ”Ń‘ рДаĐșцою, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Đž раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ? ĐŻ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ужД ĐČОЎДл». Đ›ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дарьо Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșрасĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ”Đ±Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽŃ‹ Đž стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚, ĐČыпДĐč». Дарья ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° таблДтĐșу, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ та ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Ń‹ŃˆŃƒ. Â«Đ”ŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčЮусь бДз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” таĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐČОл ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. «йы ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”Ń€ĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? бы Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș проĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ЗаĐČтра ĐŒŃ‹ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабушĐșĐ”, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžŃˆŃŒ?» ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Дарья, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ ĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ”, ŃƒĐżĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČыпоть Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ Ń‚Ń‘ĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž ĐČсё. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșĐ”, праĐČЎа». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐČ Ń€ĐŸŃ‚ Đž сЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты... Ах!» ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Дарья успДла ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČышаясь ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ЗастаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœ ĐșрДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃƒĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Дё. йаблДтĐșа Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐŸ рту, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ»Đ°Đ±ĐžĐ» хĐČатĐșу, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° лДĐșарстĐČĐŸ. От ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*Ń†Đ”Đ»ŃƒŃ у Дарьо заĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČа, ŃĐŒŃ‹ĐČая ĐČсД Дё запрДты. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČать Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ°. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, я
 - ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, пытаясь ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. - ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒÂ». Её ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃĐžĐ»Đž ĐČсД Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. На Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОцД ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, застаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đ” глаза. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đž Дщё раз». ХДрЎцД Дарьо ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČоть Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ супруга. «Я сĐșазала, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». В глазах Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ?» Дарью ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. А ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ жД Дщё? ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ жД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČŃˆĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО Ń„ĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČыД Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž? Đ Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ оЮёт ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐ°Ń…? - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘. - Даша, ты разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ°? ЕслО тДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО. ĐĐ” ограĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đž огры, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ эту Ń‡ŃƒŃˆŃŒÂ». Дарья ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° сжала ĐșулаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃ‚ĐžŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ·ŃƒĐ±Ń‹. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Дё огр, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đșа ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать сотуацою ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń…? ДДĐČушĐșа ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ глазах ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐșŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đœ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ ĐČсё раĐČĐœĐŸ разĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы, таĐș ĐșаĐșая Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°?» ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДчал, ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń…. Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дарью ĐČ Ń‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ, а ĐČ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ трДĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹. «ИлО... ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ?» ГлаĐČа 3 Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Про ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, сДрЎцД Дарьо Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»ĐŸ, а ĐČ ĐłŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ прДЎĐČĐșŃƒŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° Дё ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃ‹ĐČаĐč ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČыĐč Ń‚ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ» Дё, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - бы ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я буЎу ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - сĐČĐ”Ń€Đ»Ń Дё Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - Đ—Đ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, Даша, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ты ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° разĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚ĐŸ ушДл. Дарья ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃ‡Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ плача, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° руĐșу ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ‚, чуĐČстĐČуя, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ растёт ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ. Đ˜Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ буĐșĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ чДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Đ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ супруга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Дё Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ДажД ДслО ĐŸĐœĐž Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐčЮутся, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐČырастоть Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‰ŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° проступ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Đ‘Đ°Đ±ŃƒŃˆĐșа Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ уĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČсё ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Đž Đ”Đč ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ уĐčто с ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. На ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Дарья прОбыла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·ŃŒÂ», Дё ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đ” Đ·Đ°ŃĐŽĐ»Ń‹Đ” ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐŒŃ‹ жЎалО Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČсё ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐžĐœĐž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”?» Â«ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐžĐČаДт ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșу ĐČ Ń‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒĐœĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒĐżĐ”Ń€ĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, Ń€Đ°ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐșаĐș Đ»Đ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń€. ĐžĐœ прОгласОл ĐČсДх сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐŸĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃƒĐ±Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐČоть ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ…!» «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. ĐœĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» Дарья ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐ” слОшĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đž заĐșатОлО глаза. ОчДĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČДрОлО. «Да Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Даша! бы жД сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐč. КаĐș эта ĐžĐœŃ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐ°Ń†ĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐčто ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń? ДаĐČаĐč ĐČыĐșлаЎыĐČаĐč!» Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ВсД Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дарья Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ былО ĐČ ĐșŃƒŃ€ŃĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° таĐșжД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ°Ń„ĐžŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčчоĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽ, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČатот ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČоть ĐœĐ° Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐČала ох прДжЎД, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž успДлО ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Вас ĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČращаĐčŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ Đș Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ”!» Её ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОца ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ох, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ праĐČа, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ушла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐšĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎёт. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒÂ». «Да, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° тро ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŒŃ‹ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐșаĐșОД-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ с ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” брал ĐœĐ° ĐČстрДчО с ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐŒĐž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ, ĐœŃƒ Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Оз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ услаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń глаз!» «Её ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČыĐčЎДт Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ за ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, Дашу уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ‚ пДрĐČĐŸĐč. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» бы ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ”?» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» Их ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń‚ĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ Дарья, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Дё ĐČоЮят это, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бы, ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° с ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐžŃ‰Đ”ĐŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ” успДла, ĐșаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ» ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ сДĐșрДтарДĐč ужД Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČДщО, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°, ВарĐČара Đ›ŃƒĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐŒ. Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ…Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ВарĐČары, Дарья Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ праĐČЎа». ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта?!» За ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Дарья ĐČсё ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«Đ’ĐŸ-пДрĐČых, ĐŒŃ‹ с Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ОсĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșаĐșох чуĐČстĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабушĐșа. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ любОт, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться. ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃÂ». ВарĐČара оспытыĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Â«ĐĐŸâ€Š А ĐșаĐș жД Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș? РазĐČĐ” ты ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ сюрпрОз?» «А ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐ”Ń‚ лО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‡ŃƒĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃŃŽŃ€ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ИлО ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - Дарья ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃ‚Đ° Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. - В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, я ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĄĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœĐŸ, разĐČĐŸĐŽ? бы ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°? - с Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ВарĐČара. - ЕслО ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, тДбД проЮётся уĐčто с Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐœŃ‘Ń‚ растО». Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся, я ужД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžŃ‚ŃŃÂ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Дё ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ забытых ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Ń‚Đ°Ń… ĐČызĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо рДЎĐșую ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. Â«Đ‘ĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! Даша, ты ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒŃŃ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Đ”? - с ĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČыпалОла ВарĐČара. - Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ°ŃŽŃ‰Đ”! ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа ĐČДрОла ĐČ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń! бы ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń€! Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃ€Đ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹, ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČа! ĐĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ растрачоĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚, Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń ĐČсД это ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ‹ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚!» «ХĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČа...» - ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Дарья, ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ забытыĐč псДĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. РаЎО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž забыĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°Â», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. Đ’Đ·ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČ, Дарья ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž уĐČОЎДла за сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ГлаĐČа 4 Đ‘ŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșа ĐČ ĐŽŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... я ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŽ ĐČ ĐČОЎу, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДтД?» Дарью засталО ĐČŃ€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ заĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€, пытаясь ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹ŃĐșать ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ†Đ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° любыД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČа. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? КаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ бабушĐșу ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”?» - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ… ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°: «Я... ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŒŃ‹ĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ”Đ», Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. - ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐžŃˆĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ Дарья прДбыĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐž. ИспытыĐČая ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃƒŃŽ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° с трДĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đ» лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Дё Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ с ВарĐČĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ДслО бы супруг ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, Ń‚ĐŸ сДĐčчас ĐœĐ” был бы таĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐžĐœĐž сОЎДлО Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč Ń‚ĐžŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Про ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Дарьо ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бДз ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń… Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, слДгĐșа ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚?» Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Đ» Дарью, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČращая Đș Ń€Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Â«ĐĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ°. Â«ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž?» - с ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃ‘Ń ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ Дарьо Đ±Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐŸ заĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сДрЎцД. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đșрыла Ń€ĐŸŃ‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с Дё ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. «ЕслО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ пустяĐș, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё за Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸĐș. ĐšŃ€Đ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза Дарья Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === Đ”Đ»Ń ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°. За заĐșŃ€Ń‹Ń‚Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČал. Дарья была счастлОĐČа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, уĐČлёĐșся сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью. ĐĄ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Ń‘Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, oĐœ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” захĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” аĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»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
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Yes 2024-11-27 19:49 active 1932 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ 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
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No 2024-11-27 19:43 active 1932 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 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 grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured 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 boulder—each 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 objects—it 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 shares—the 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 Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and 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 Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed 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 up—her 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 mess—resignation 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 was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda 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 home—Lydia 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, thoughts—they'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 ship—the 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 Yagle—a 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 assistant—Daniel Harris—who 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 self—unresponsive 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 flickered—a 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 exceptional—tangy 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 notebook—her 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, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her 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 guess—it 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
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Yes 2024-11-27 18:33 active 1929 0 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
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