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No | 2024-11-27 19:40 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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๐Read the next chapters๐ | It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurtsโฆ Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. โฆ That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexterโ" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. โฆ Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naรฏve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcaseโthis was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stopโฆ" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meantโthe lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last centuryโrustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you againโGrandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintilyโa signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good womanโdon't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey womanโฆ You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush thingsโshe had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why youโฆ Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" โฆ Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. โฆ Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a jobโshe could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been sparedโeven her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford familyโ" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. โฆ Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlierโ"You're sick!"โseemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscularโeven his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furiousโshe had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&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=15824&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/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dwa39QfmafoQ7kNvgEdl7jm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AMMWvBoSe5XmW65H7LbzbOr&oh=00_AYCYuRkcgGbBxSvbekB_slV2ecxtCGqIikPBVGSCGX-VMw&oe=674D9043 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/kelly_klnk | kelly_klnk | https://www.facebook.com/100069633113491/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram Profile | 0 | instagram.com | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/kelly_klnk | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468653539_1111739937258087_7034839791820801396_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rS-cV3hNGAoQ7kNvgEhkpQY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AobEG7-OUOGB-fNee6MTZh7&oh=00_AYBkhhefp7Ezv_Qmd0_IsJAKNEP4609UQEpabNHtZHTmFQ&oe=674D87D7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | kelly_klnk | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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๐Attention! Do not read in public๏ผ๐ | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Whereโd Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a womanโs sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husbandโs so-called best friend. โWhat were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!โ โI did it willingly for my wife,โ I heard Jaredโs steady, deep voice. โYou changed, Jared. This isnโt you. What has your wife done to you?โ โHuh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?โ โStop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!โ Sofiaโs shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? โShut up! Donโt drag me into your divorce!โ Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didnโt ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotionalโฆ A sob escape Sofiaโs throat. She moved into Jaredโs arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. โI have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,โ I said coldly. โAnd if I donโt? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?โ She asked, hands akimbo. โStop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.โ โYou still donโt see the truth, do you?โ She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, โWho do you think Jared would save first?โ What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending weโd both fallen. God, sheโs so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldnโt speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but thenโhe turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461799208_1242524663617254_3104861789061602762_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_w_-UL6mkhYQ7kNvgGKBKSc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOiwW-Ti-eFEKHKfUlz0E5T&oh=00_AYDQ26VAXvRWgxtlY9bfvYKIUIIXwtkiWh_FLYKGSXBk9Q&oe=674D90F3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ะงะธัะฐัั ัะปะตะดััััั ะณะปะฐะฒั๐ | ะะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ัะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฝะตะทะฝะฐะบะพะผัะน ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ, ั ะบะพัะพััะผ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟัะพะฒะตะปะฐ ัะฒะพั ะฟะตัะฒัั ะฑัะฐัะฝัั ะฝะพัั, ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ะตะต ะทะฐะบะพะฝะฝัะผ ะผัะถะตะผ ะฟะพ ะดะพะณะพะฒะพัะตะฝะฝะพััะธ, ะพะฝะฐ ัะพัะปะฐ ั ัะผะฐ! ===== ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะะตััะพะฒะฐ ัะตะณะพะดะฝั ะฒััะปะฐ ะทะฐะผัะถ. ะ ะฝะตััะฐัััั ะดะปั ะฝะตั, ะถะตะฝะธั ะฐ ะฝะธะณะดะต ะฝะต ะฑัะปะพ ะฒะธะดะฝะพ. ะะฝะฐ ะพะณะปัะดะตะปะฐ ะฟััััั ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั, ะธ ะตั ะปะธัะพ ััะฐะปะพ ะฑะตะปัะผ, ัะปะพะฒะฝะพ ะฟัะพัััะฝั. ะะฝะฐ ััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะตะฑั ัะพะฒะตััะตะฝะฝะพ ัะฝะธะถะตะฝะฝะพะน. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะต ะถะตะปะฐะปะฐ ัะตัะฟะตัั ััะพ ะพัะบะพัะฑะปะตะฝะธะต! ะะพ ััะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะผะพะณะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะตะปะฐัั? ะก ัะฐะผะพะณะพ ัะพะถะดะตะฝะธั ะฒัะต ะฐัะฟะตะบัั ะตั ะถะธะทะฝะธ ะบะพะฝััะพะปะธัะพะฒะฐะปะธัั ะดััะณะธะผะธ ะปัะดัะผะธ. ะกะฐะผะพ ัะพะฑะพะน ัะฐะทัะผะตะตััั, ััะพ ะบะฐัะฐะปะพัั ะธ ะตั ะทะฐะผัะถะตััะฒะฐ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะฟัะธะฝัะดะธะป ะบ ััะพะผั ัะพัะทั ะพัะตั, ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบ, ะบะพัะพััะผ ัะฟัะฐะฒะปัะปะฐ ะถะฐะดะฝะพััั. ะั ะดะตะดััะบะฐ ัะฐะฑะพัะฐะป ัะพัััะพะผ ั ะ ะพะดะธะพะฝะฐ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะฐ, ะณะปะฐะฒั ะผะพะณััะตััะฒะตะฝะฝะพะน ัะตะผัะธ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั . ะะพ ะดะพัะฐะดะฝะพะน ัะปััะฐะนะฝะพััะธ ะพะฝะธ ะฟะพะฟะฐะปะธ ะฒ ัะถะฐัะฝัั ะฐะฒะฐัะธั, ะฒ ะบะพัะพัะพะน ะดะตะด ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะฟะพะณะธะฑ, ัะฟะฐัะฐั ะ ะพะดะธะพะฝะฐ. ะ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะธะต ะผะตัััั ะฝะตะฑะพะปััะฐั ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธั, ะบะพัะพัะพะน ัะฟัะฐะฒะปัะปะฐ ะตั ัะตะผัั, ะฒะตะทะดะต ะธ ะฒััะดั ะฟะพะณััะทะปะฐ ะฒ ะพะณัะพะผะฝัั ะดะพะปะณะฐั . ะะฝะธ ะฝะฐั ะพะดะธะปะธัั ะฝะฐ ะณัะฐะฝะธ ะฑะฐะฝะบัะพัััะฒะฐ. ะะตัะผะพััั ะฝะฐ ััะพ, ะตั ั ะธัััะน ะพัะตั ะพัะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ะฟัะพัะธัั ะฟะพะผะพัะธ ั ัะตะผัะธ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั , ะทะฝะฐั, ััะพ ััะพ ะพัะผะตะฝะธั ะดะพะปะณ, ะบะพัะพััะน ะพะฝะธ ะดะพะปะถะฝั ะฑัะปะธ ัะตะผัะต ะะตััะพะฒัั . ะะผะตััะพ ััะพะณะพ ะพะฝ ะฟัะธะดัะผะฐะป ะฟะปะฐะฝ, ัะพะณะปะฐัะฝะพ ะบะพัะพัะพะผั ะฒะฝัะบ ะ ะพะดะธะพะฝะฐ, ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ, ะถะตะฝะธััั ะฝะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะต. ะฃัะธััะฒะฐั ะฑะพะณะฐัััะฒะพ ัะตะผัะธ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั , ะพะฝะธ ะฑัะปะธ ัะฒะตัะตะฝั, ััะพ ัะต ะดะฐะดัั ะฑะพะปััะธะต ะดะตะฝัะณะธ ะฒ ะพะฑะผะตะฝ ะฝะฐ ััะบั ะธ ัะตัะดัะต ะะฐะผะธะปะปั. ะ, ะฒ ะบะฐัะตััะฒะต ะดะพะฟะพะปะฝะธัะตะปัะฝะพะณะพ ะฑะพะฝััะฐ, ะพะฝะธ, ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั, ัััะฐะฝะพะฒะธะปะธ ะฑั ะฑะพะปะตะต ะฟัะพัะฝัั ัะฒัะทั ั ัะตะผััะน ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั , ะบะพัะพัะฐั ะฑัะปะฐ ะฑั ะทะฐะบะพะฝะฝะพ ัะบัะตะฟะปะตะฝะฐ. ะ ะฐะทัะผะตะตััั, ัะตะผัั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั ะฝะต ะผะพะณะปะฐ ะฟะพะทะฒะพะปะธัั ัะตะฑะต ะพัะบะฐะทะฐัััั ะพั ััะพะณะพ ะฟัะตะดะปะพะถะตะฝะธั, ะธะฝะฐัะต ะพะฝะธ ัะธัะบะพะฒะฐะปะธ ะฟะพัะตัััั ะปะธัะพ ะฒ ัะพะผ ะธะปะธ ะธะฝะพะผ ัะปััะฐะต. ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ัะตัะธะป ะฒััะฐะทะธัั ัะฒะพั ะฝะตะดะพะฒะพะปัััะฒะพ ะฒัะตะผ ััะธะผ, ะฝะต ัะฒะธะฒัะธัั ะฝะฐ ะฑะฐะฝะบะตั, ั ะพัั ะฝะฐ ะฝัะผ ะฝะต ะฟัะธัััััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะพ ะฝะธะบะพะณะพ, ะบัะพะผะต ัะปะตะฝะพะฒ ัะตะผะตะน. ะะฝ ัะฐะบะถะต ะพัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะะฐะผะธะปะปะต ะฒ ะธัะฟะพะปัะทะพะฒะฐะฝะธะธ ัะฐะผะธะปะธะธ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั ะธ ะทะฐะฟัะตัะธะป ะตะน ะณะพะฒะพัะธัั ะปัะดัะผ, ััะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะตะณะพ ะถะตะฝะฐ. ะะฐ ะฟัะพััะถะตะฝะธะธ ะฒัะตะณะพ ััะพะณะพ, ะพั ะฝะฐัะฐะปะฐ ะธ ะดะพ ะบะพะฝัะฐ, ะฝะธะบัะพ ะฝะต ะฟะพัััะดะธะปัั ัะฟัะพัะธัั ะผะฝะตะฝะธะต ัะฐะผะพะน ะะฐะผะธะปะปั. ะกะตะนัะฐั ะพะฝะฐ ััะพะธั ั ะฟััะผะพะน ัะฟะธะฝะพะน ะธ ัะฐัะฟัะฐะฒะปะตะฝะฝัะผะธ ะฟะปะตัะฐะผะธ. ะั ัะตัะฝะธัั, ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ัะปะตะณะบะฐ ะดัะพะถะฐะปะธ, ะฝะพ ะฒ ะณะปะฐะทะฐั ัะธัะฐะปะพัั ัะฟััะผััะฒะพ. ะะฝะฐ ะฝะต ัะพะฑะธัะฐะปะฐัั ะฟะพะดะดะฐะฒะฐัััั ัะฝะธะถะตะฝะธั. ะะพ ะบะฐะบ ะตะน ัะปะตะดัะตั ะฟะพัััะฟะธัั? ะ ัะพ ะฒัะตะผั, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ัะฐะทะผััะปัะปะฐ ะพ ัะพะผ, ะบะฐะบ ะฟัะพะฒะตะดัั ะฟะตัะฒัั ะฑัะฐัะฝัั ะฝะพัั, ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปััะธะปะฐ ัะพะพะฑัะตะฝะธะต ะพั ะพะดะฝะพะน ะธะท ัะฒะพะธั ะบะพะปะปะตะณ. ะะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ ะฟัะพัะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะฟะพะดะผะตะฝะธัั ะตั ะฝะฐ ะฝะพัะฝะพะน ัะผะตะฝะต. ะขะฐ ะฝะต ััะฐะปะฐ ะดะพะปะณะพ ัะฐะทะดัะผัะฒะฐัั. ะะฝะฐ ะฒััะปะฐ ะธะท ะทะฐะปะฐ ะธ ะฒัะทะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะฐะบัะธ, ััะพะฑั ะพัะฟัะฐะฒะธัััั ะฒ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั. ะะณะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธะตะผ ะฟะพะทะถะต ะพะฝะฐ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐัั ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัะต ะพัะดัั ะฐ ะฟะตััะพะฝะฐะปะฐ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั, ะฟัะพะฒะตััั ะทะฐะฟะธัะธ ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะพะฒ, ะฐ ะตั ะฒะตัะตัะฝะตะต ะฟะปะฐััะต ะดะฐะฒะฝะพ ัะผะตะฝะธะปะพัั ะฑะตะปัะผ ะปะฐะฑะพัะฐัะพัะฝัะผ ั ะฐะปะฐัะพะผ. ะะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ะดะฒะตัั ั ะณัะพะผะบะธะผ ัััะบะพะผ ัะฐัะฟะฐั ะฝัะปะฐัั ั ะฒะฝะตัะฝะตะน ััะพัะพะฝั ะธ ัะดะฐัะธะปะฐัั ะพ ััะตะฝั. ะะต ััะฟะตะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝััั ะณะปะฐะทะฐ, ััะพะฑั ะฒะทะณะปัะฝััั, ััะพ ะฟัะพะธัั ะพะดะธั, ะบะฐะบ ะดะฒะตัั ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ะทะฐั ะปะพะฟะฝัะปะฐัั. ะะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝะฐ ััะปััะฐะปะฐ ัะตะปัะพะบ ะฒัะบะปััะฐัะตะปั, ะธ ะฒ ะฟะพะผะตัะตะฝะธะธ ััะฐะปะพ ัะตะผะฝะพ. ะะพ ะตั ัะฟะธะฝะต ะฟัะพะฑะตะถะฐะป ั ะพะปะพะดะพะบ. ยซะัะพ...ยป ะะต ััะฟะตะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะดะพะณะพะฒะพัะธัั, ะบะฐะบ ะตั ัะพะปะบะฝัะปะธ ะฝะฐ ััะพะป. ะััะฐ ะบะฐะฝัะตะปัััะบะธั ะฟัะธะฝะฐะดะปะตะถะฝะพััะตะน ัะฟะฐะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะป, ะธ ะฒ ััะพั ะผะพะผะตะฝั ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ, ะบะฐะบ ะบ ะตั ัะตะต ะฟัะธะถะฐะปัั ั ะพะปะพะดะฝัะน ะพััััะน ะบ*ะฐะน ะฝ*ะถะฐ. ยซะขะธั ะพ!ยป - ัะฒะธัะตะฟะพ ะฟัะพัะตะฟัะฐะป ะฝะฐะฟะฐะดะฐะฒัะธะน. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะตะดะฒะฐ ะผะพะณะปะฐ ัะฐะทะณะปัะดะตัั ะปะธัะพ ะผัะถัะธะฝั, ั ะพัั ะตะณะพ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะฒัะดะตะปัะปะธัั. ะะฝะธ ะผะตััะฐะปะธ ะฒ ัััะบะปะพะผ ัะฒะตัะต, ะตะณะพ ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะฑัะป ะฟะพะปะพะฝ ะฑะดะธัะตะปัะฝะพััะธ. ะ ะฒะพะทะดัั ะต ะฒะพะบััะณ ะฝะธั ะฒะธัะฐะป ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผัะน ะทะฐะฟะฐั ะถะตะปะตะทะฐ, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฝัะปะฐ, ััะพ ััะพั ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบ ัะฐะฝะตะฝ. ะะปะฐะณะพะดะฐัั ะผะฝะพะณะพะปะตัะฝะตะผั ะพะฑััะตะฝะธั ะธ ะพะฟััั ะฒัะฐัะฐ, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะผะพะณะปะฐ ัะพั ัะฐะฝะธัั ัะฟะพะบะพะนััะฒะธะต. ะะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝะฐ ะผะตะดะปะตะฝะฝะพ ัะพะณะฝัะปะฐ ะพะดะฝั ะฝะพะณั, ะฟะปะฐะฝะธััั ะฐัะฐะบะพะฒะฐัั ะผัะถัะธะฝั ะบะพะปะตะฝะพะผ. ะะพ ัะพั ะฒะธะดะตะป ะตั ะฝะฐัะบะฒะพะทั. ะะฐะบ ัะพะปัะบะพ ะพะฝ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะป ะตั ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธะต, ัะพ ั ัะธะปะพะน ัะถะฐะป ะตั ะฝะพะณะธ ะฒะผะตััะต ะธ ะฟัะธะถะฐะป ะบ ััะพะปั ัะฒะพะธะผะธ ะผะพัะฝัะผะธ ะฑัะดัะฐะผะธ. ะะดััะณ ะฒ ะบะพัะธะดะพัะต ะฟะพัะปััะฐะปัั ััะผ ัะฐะณะพะฒ. ะะฝะธ ะฝะฐะฟัะฐะฒะปัะปะธัั ะฟััะผะพ ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั ะพัะดัั ะฐ ะฟะตััะพะฝะฐะปะฐ. ยซะััััะตะต, ั ะฒะธะดะตะปะฐ, ะบะฐะบ ะพะฝ ััะป ััะดะฐ!ยป ะะพััะฐัะพัะฝะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะพะดะฝะพะณะพ ะบัะธะบะฐ ะพ ะฟะพะผะพัะธ, ะธ ััะธ ะปัะดะธ ะฒะพัะฒะฐะปะธัั ะฑั ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั. ะััะฐัะฒัะธัั, ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะพะฟัััะธะป ะณะพะปะพะฒั ะธ ะฟะพ**ะปะพะฒะฐะป ะะฐะผะธะปะปั. ะะฝะฐ ััะฐะปะฐ ะฑะพัะพัััั ะธ ะฑัะปะฐ ัะดะธะฒะปะตะฝะฐ ัะตะผ, ััะพ ัะผะพะณะปะฐ ะปะตะณะบะพ ะพััะพะปะบะฝััั ะตะณะพ. ะขะตะผ ะฑะพะปะตะต, ััะพ ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะฑะพะปััะต ะฝะต ัะณัะพะถะฐะป ะตะน ะฝ*ะถะพะผ. ะััะปะธ ะดะตะฒััะบะธ ะทะฐะผะตัะฐะปะธัั. ะ ััะพั ะผะพะผะตะฝั ัะพั, ะบัะพ ะฝะฐั ะพะดะธะปัั ะฟะพ ัั ััะพัะพะฝั ะดะฒะตัะธ, ัั ะฒะฐัะธะปัั ะทะฐ ัััะบั. ะัะธะฝัะฒ ัะตัะตะฝะธะต, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟัะธััะฝัะปะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝั ะบ ัะตะฑะต ะธ ะพะฑะฒะธะปะฐ ััะบะฐะผะธ ะตะณะพ ัะตั. ะะฐ ััะพั ัะฐะท ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพ**ะปะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะตะณะพ. ยซะฏ ะผะพะณั ะฒะฐะผ ะฟะพะผะพััยป, - ะฟัะพะฑะพัะผะพัะฐะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะด ะฝะพั, ะฝะฐะดะตััั, ััะพ ะตั ัััะฐั ะฝะต ะฑัะป ะทะฐะผะตัะตะฝ. ะัะถัะธะฝะฐ ััะผะฝะพ ัะณะปะพัะฝัะป. ะะผั ะฟะพััะตะฑะพะฒะฐะปะฐัั ัะตะบัะฝะดะฐ, ััะพะฑั ะฟัะธะฝััั ัะตัะตะฝะธะต, ะทะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะตะณะพ ะณะพัััะตะต ะดัั ะฐะฝะธะต ั ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ัั ะฐ: ยซะฏ ะฒะพะทัะผั ะฝะฐ ัะตะฑั ะพัะฒะตัััะฒะตะฝะฝะพััั ะทะฐ ััะพยป. ะะณะพ ะณะพะปะพั ะฑัะป ะฝะธะทะบะธะผ ะธ ะฟัะธััะณะฐัะตะปัะฝัะผ. ะะพ ะพะฝ, ะฟะพั ะพะถะต, ะฝะตะฟัะฐะฒะธะปัะฝะพ ะฟะพะฝัะป. ะะฝะฐ ั ะพัะตะปะฐ, ััะพะฑั ะฒัั ััะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะฟัะธัะฒะพัััะฒะพะผ. ะะฝ ะฝะต ะดะพะปะถะตะฝ ะฑัะป ะฝะธ ะทะฐ ััะพ ะฑัะฐัั ะพัะฒะตัััะฒะตะฝะฝะพััั. ะ ัะปะตะดััััั ัะตะบัะฝะดั ะดะฒะตัั ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ัะฐัะฟะฐั ะฝัะปะฐัั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะธ ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ััั ะถะต ัะปะธะปะธัั ะฒ ะพัะตัะตะดะฝะพะผ ะฟะพ**ะปัะต. ะะตัะผะพััั ะฝะฐ ะธั ะทะฐัััะดะฝะธัะตะปัะฝะพะต ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต, ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะพะฑะฝะฐััะถะธะป, ััะพ ะตะณะพ ัะตะปะพ ััะตะฐะณะธัะพะฒะฐะปะพ ะฝะฐ ะทะฒัะบ. ะะฝ ะผะพะณ ะฑั ะฟะพัะตัััััั ะฒ ะฝัะผ, ะตัะปะธ ะฑั ะปัะดะธ ะทะฐ ะดะฒะตััั ะฝะต ะทะฐะณะพะฒะพัะธะปะธ. ยซะง*ัั ะฒ*ะทัะผะธ! ะะฐ ััะพ ะถะต ะฟัะพััะพ ั**ัััะฐััั ะฟะฐัะพัะบะฐ. ะงัะฒะฐะบ, ะพะฝะธ ะธ ะฒะฟัะฐะฒะดั ะทะฐะฝะธะผะฐัััั ััะธะผ ะฒ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัะต. ะะผะตะนัะต ั ะพัั ะฝะตะผะฝะพะณะพ ะฟัะธะปะธัะธั!ยป ะกะฒะตั ะธะท ะบะพัะธะดะพัะฐ ะฟัะพะฝะธะบะฐะป ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั, ะพะฑะฝะฐะถะฐั ะฟะฐัั. ะะดะฝะฐะบะพ ัะตะปะพ ะผัะถัะธะฝั ะฑัะปะพ ะพะฑั ะฒะฐัะตะฝะพ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะพะน, ัะบััะฒะฐั ะตะณะพ ะปะธัะพ ะพั ะปัะฑะพะฟััะฝัั ะณะปะฐะท ะฝะตะทะฒะฐะฝัั ะณะพััะตะน. ยซะงัะพ ะถ, ััะพ ัะพัะฝะพ ะฝะต ะะธัะฐะปะธะน. ะญัะพั ัะฑะปัะดะพะบ ััะถะตะปะพ ัะฐะฝะตะฝ. ะะตะฒะฐะถะฝะพ, ะฝะฐัะบะพะปัะบะพ ัะพะฑะปะฐะทะฝะธัะตะปัะฝะฐ ะถะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ, ั ัะพะผะฝะตะฒะฐััั, ััะพ ั ะฝะตะณะพ ั ะฒะฐัะธั ัะธะป ัะดะตะปะฐัั ั ะฝะตะน ััะพ-ะฝะธะฑัะดัยป. ยซะะพ, ััะฒะฐะบ, ััะฐ ะถะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ ะธะทะดะฐัั ะดะพะฒะพะปัะฝะพ ะฟัะธััะฝัะต ะทะฒัะบะธ, ะฐ?ยป ยซะะฐัะบะฝะธัั ะธ ะฟะพัะตะฒะตะปะธะฒะฐะนัั! ะะฐะผ ะฝัะถะฝะพ ะฝะฐะนัะธ ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะบะฐะบ ะผะพะถะฝะพ ัะบะพัะตะต, ะธะฝะฐัะต ะผั ะฟะพัะตััะตะผ ะณะพะปะพะฒั!ยป ะะพัะปััะฐะปัั ัะพัะพั ะธ ัะพะฟะพั ะฝะพะณ, ะธ ะผัะถัะธะฝั ะฑัะพัะธะปะธัั ะฟัะพัั, ะฐ ะดะฒะตัั ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐัั ะฒ ัะฒะพั ะธัั ะพะดะฝะพะต ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต. ะัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะทะฝะฐะป, ััะพ ะตะณะพ ะฟัะตัะปะตะดะพะฒะฐัะตะปะธ ััะปะธ, ะฝะพ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะฝะธะต ัะพะณะพ, ััะพ ัะตะฟะตัั ะพะฝะธ ะพััะฐะปะธัั ะพะดะฝะธ, ะฟะพะดะตะนััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะพ ะฝะฐ ะตะณะพ ัะฐะผะพะพะฑะปะฐะดะฐะฝะธะต. ะะฝ ะฟัะพััะพ ัะพัะฒะฐะปัั, ะธ ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะฐั ะฒะพะปะฝะฐ ะฟ**ะพัะธ ะทะฐั ะปะตััะฝัะปะฐ ะตะณะพ. ะญัะพั ะฟะพัะพะบ ะถะต**ะฝะธั ะฝะต ะพะฑะพััะป ััะพัะพะฝะพะน ะธ ะะฐะผะธะปะปั. ะะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ะดะตะปะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะฒ ะธั ะฑะปะธะทะพััะธ, ะธะปะธ ะฒ ัะพะผ, ะบะฐะบ ะธะฝัะธะผะฝะพ ะพะฝะธ ะบะฐัะฐะปะธัั ะดััะณ ะดััะณะฐ, ะฐ ะผะพะถะตั ะฑััั, ะฒะพ ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพะผ ะฟัะธะปะธะฒะต ะฐะดัะตะฝะฐะปะธะฝะฐ, ะฝะพ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฒะตัั ะฝะพััั ะฟะพะดะฝัะปะฐัั ะฑัะฝัะฐััะบะฐั ะถะธะปะบะฐ, ะพ ะบะพัะพัะพะน ะพะฝะฐ ะดะฐะถะต ะฝะต ะฟะพะดะพะทัะตะฒะฐะปะฐ. ะะพ ััะพะณะพ ะผะพะผะตะฝัะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะถะธะปะฐ ัะตัะพะน ะพะดะฝะพะพะฑัะฐะทะฝะพะน ะถะธะทะฝัั, ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ะฟะพะดัะธะฝัััั ะฟัะฐะฒะธะปะฐะผ ะธ ะฟะปะฐะฝะฐะผ, ัััะฐะฝะพะฒะปะตะฝะฝัะผ ะดะปั ะฝะตั ะดััะณะธะผะธ. ะะฐ ััะพั ัะฐะท - ั ะพัั ะฑั ัะฐะท - ะพะฝะฐ ัะพะฑะธัะฐะปะฐัั ะฟะพะฑะฐะปะพะฒะฐัั ัะตะฑั. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะพัะฑัะพัะธะปะฐ ัะฒะพะธ ะทะฐะฟัะตัั ะธ ะฟัะตะดะพััะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝะต ัะฒะพะฑะพะดั ะดะตะนััะฒะธะน, ััะพะฑั ะพะฝ ะดะตะปะฐะป ะฒัั, ััะพ ะทะฐั ะพัะตั. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะธ ะทะฐะบะพะฝัะธะปะธ, ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะฝะตะถะฝะพ ะฟะพัะตะปะพะฒะฐะป ะตั ะฒ ััะบั. ยซะฏ ะฟัะธะดั ะทะฐ ัะพะฑะพะนยป, - ะฟัะพัะตะฟัะฐะป ะพะฝ, ะฒ ะตะณะพ ะณะพะปะพัะต ะฒัั ะตัั ัะปััะฐะปะธัั ะพัะณะพะปะพัะบะธ ะฝะฐัะปะฐะถะดะตะฝะธั. ะ ะทะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝ ัััะป, ัะฐะบ ะถะต ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะธ ะฟัะธััะป. ะัะพัะปะพ ะฝะตะผะฐะปะพ ะฒัะตะผะตะฝะธ, ะฟัะตะถะดะต ัะตะผ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะผะพะณะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝััััั ะฝะฐ ะฝะพะณะธ. ะขะธัะธะฝั ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัะต ะฝะฐัััะธะป ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ ะตั ัะตะปะตัะพะฝะฐ. ะะฝะฐ ะพะณะปัะดะตะปะฐัั ะธ ะพะฑะฝะฐััะถะธะปะฐ, ััะพ ะพะฝ ะปะตะถะธั ะฝะฐ ะบัะฐั ััะพะปะฐ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัั ะฒะฐัะธะปะฐ ัะตะปะตัะพะฝ, ะฟะพะบะฐ ะพะฝ ะฝะต ัะฟะฐะป, ะธ ะฝะฐะถะฐะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะบะฝะพะฟะบั ะพัะฒะตัะฐ. ยซะะพะบัะพั! - ัะฐะทะดะฐะปัั ะฒะทะฒะพะปะฝะพะฒะฐะฝะฝัะน ะณะพะปะพั. -ะ ัะตะฝัั ะฝะตะพัะปะพะถะฝะพะน ะฟะพะผะพัะธ ัะพะปัะบะพ ััะพ ะฟัะธะฒะตะทะปะธ ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะฐ. ะะฝ ะฟะพะฟะฐะป ะฒ ะฐะฒะฐัะธั ะธ ะฟะพะปััะธะป ัะตัััะทะฝัะต ััะฐะฒะผั. ะะฐะผ ะฝัะถะฝะพ, ััะพะฑั ะฒั ะฝะตะผะตะดะปะตะฝะฝะพ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะธ ะตะผั ะฟะพะผะพัั!ยป ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟัะพัะธััะธะปะฐ ะณะพัะปะพ, ััะพะฑั ะณะพะปะพั ะทะฒััะฐะป ัะพะฒะฝะพ: ยซะฅะพัะพัะพ, ั ะฑัะดั ัะตัะตะท ะผะธะฝัััยป. ะะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปะพะถะธะปะฐ ัััะฑะบั ะธ ะฝะฐะฟัะฐะฒะธะปะฐัั ะบ ะดะฒะตัะธ, ะฝะพ ะพััะฐะฝะพะฒะธะปะฐัั ะฝะฐ ะฟะพัะพะณะต. ะะฝะฐ ะพะณะปัะดะตะปะฐ ัะตะฑั. ะะฝะฐ ะธ ะฒะฟัะฐะฒะดั ะทะฐะฝัะปะฐัั ั*ะบัะพะผ ั ะฝะตะทะฝะฐะบะพะผัะตะผ ะฒ ัะฒะพั ะฑัะฐัะฝัั ะฝะพัั. ะญัะพ ะฑัะป ัะฐะผัะน ะฒะพะทะผััะธัะตะปัะฝัะน ะฟะพัััะฟะพะบ ะฒ ะตั ะถะธะทะฝะธ! ะะพ ัะตะนัะฐั ะฑัะปะพ ะฝะต ะฒัะตะผั ะฟัะฐะทะดะฝะพะฒะฐัั ัะฒะพะน ะฟะพัััะฟะพะบ ะธะปะธ ัะฐะทะผััะปััั ะพ ะตะณะพ ะฟะพัะปะตะดััะฒะธัั . ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟัะธะฒะตะปะฐ ัะตะฑั ะฒ ะฟะพััะดะพะบ ะธ ะพัะฟัะฐะฒะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ัะตะฝัั ัะบัััะตะฝะฝะพะน ะฟะพะผะพัะธ. ะะตัั ะพััะฐัะพะบ ะฝะพัะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะทะฐะฝััะฐ ัะฐะฑะพัะพะน. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั ะพัะฒะพะฑะพะดะธะปะฐัั, ัะถะต ะฑะปะธะทะธะปัั ัะฐััะฒะตั. ะะตัะฝัะฒัะธัั ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั ะพัะดัั ะฐ ะฟะตััะพะฝะฐะปะฐ, ะพะฝะฐ ะพะฑะฝะฐััะถะธะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัะต ะฑัะปะพ ะฒัั ัะฐะบ ะถะต ะณััะทะฝะพ. ะ ัะบะธ ะดะตะฒััะบะธ ัะถะฐะปะธัั ะฒ ะบัะปะฐะบะธ, ะฐ ะฒ ะณะพะปะพะฒะต ะฟัะพะฝะตัะปะธัั ะฒะพัะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะฝะธั ะพ ะฑััะฝะพะผ ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพััั. ยซะกะฟะฐัะธะฑะพ, ััะพ ะฟะพะดะผะตะฝะธะปะฐ ะผะตะฝั, ะดะพะบัะพั ะะตััะพะฒะฐยป, - ะบะพะปะปะตะณะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปั, ะฏะฝะฐ ะะณะฐัะพะฝะพะฒะฐ, ะฒะพัะปะฐ ั ะฑะปะฐะณะพะดะฐัะฝะพะน ัะปัะฑะบะพะน. ะขะฐ ะฒัะดะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะธะท ัะตะฑั ัะปัะฑะบั: ยซะะพะถะฐะปัะนััะฐยป. ยซะะฐะปััะต ั ัะฟัะฐะฒะปััั ัะฐะผะฐ. ะขะตะฑะต ัะปะตะดัะตั ะฒะตัะฝััััั ะธ ะฝะตะผะฝะพะณะพ ะพัะดะพั ะฝััั, - ะฏะฝะฐ ะฟะพัะผะพััะตะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะฑัะผะฐะณะธ, ัะฐะทะฑัะพัะฐะฝะฝัะต ะฟะพ ะฟะพะปั, ะธ ะฟัะธะฟะพะดะฝัะปะฐ ะฑัะพะฒะธ. - ะงัะพ ะทะดะตัั ะฟัะพะธะทะพัะปะพ? ะะพัะตะผั ะฒัั ะฒะฐะปัะตััั ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปั?ยป ะะฐะผะธะปะฐ ะฒ ะฟะฐะฝะธะบะต ะพัะฒะตะปะฐ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะธ ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ: ยซะะน, ั ัะปััะฐะนะฝะพ ััะพะฝะธะปะฐ ะธั . ะะพะถะฐะปัะนััะฐ, ะฟัะธะฑะตัะธัั ะทะดะตัั. ะฏ ัััะฐะปะฐ, ะฟะพััะพะผั ะฟะพะนะดัยป. ะฏะฝะต ะฟะพะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ัััะฐะฝะฝัะผ ะพัะฒะตั ะะฐะผะธะปะปั, ะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะฟัะธะดะฐะปะฐ ััะพะผั ะทะฝะฐัะตะฝะธั. ะะฝะธ ะฟะพะฟัะพัะฐะปะธัั, ะธ ะถะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ ะฟัะธะฝัะปะฐัั ัะพะฑะธัะฐัั ัะฐะทะฑัะพัะฐะฝะฝัะต ะฒะตัะธ. ะะฝะฐ ะตะดะฒะฐ ััะฟะตะปะฐ ะฝะฐัะฐัั, ะบะฐะบ ะฒ ะดะฒะตััั ะฟะพัะฒะธะปัั ัะฐะผ ะดะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั, ะฐ ะทะฐ ะฝะธะผ - ะฟะพะผะพัะฝะธะบ ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ะะปะฐะฒะฐ 2 ะงัะฒััะฒะพ ะฒะธะฝั ยซะญัะพ ะฒัะฐั, ะดะตะถััะธะฒัะฐั ะฒัะตัะฐ ะฒะตัะตัะพะผ, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะดะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั. - ะะพะบัะพั ะฏะฝะฐ ะะณะฐัะพะฝะพะฒะฐยป. ะััะธััะตะฝั ะะธัะฐะปะธั, ะะตะฝะธั ะัะปะพะฒ, ะฒะพััะป ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั ะธ ะฟะพัะผะพััะตะป ะฝะฐ ัะฐะฑะปะธัะบั ั ะธะผะตะฝะตะผ ะฝะฐ ะปะฐะฑะพัะฐัะพัะฝะพะผ ั ะฐะปะฐัะต ะฏะฝั. ยซะะพะนะดัะผัะต ัะพ ะผะฝะพะนยป. ะฏะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฒ ะทะฐะผะตัะฐัะตะปัััะฒะต. ยซะัะดะฐ ะผั ะธะดัะผ?ยป ะะพ ะดะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั ะฝะต ะทะฐั ะพัะตะป ะพัะฒะตัะฐัั ะฝะฐ ะตั ะฒะพะฟัะพั. ะะฝ ั ัะธะปะพะน ะฟะพััะฝัะป ะตั ะทะฐ ััะบั ะธ ัะบะฐะทะฐะป: ยซะัะพััะพ ะฟะพะนะดัะผัะต. ะะต ะทะฐััะฐะฒะปัะนัะต ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝะฐ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะฐ ะถะดะฐััยป. ะัะบะพัะต ะพะฝะฐ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐัั ะฒ ะบะฐะฑะธะฝะตัะต ะดะธัะตะบัะพัะฐ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั. ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ัะธะดะตะป ะฝะฐ ะดะธะฒะฐะฝะต, ะตะณะพ ั ัะดะพัะฐะฒะพะต ะธ ะผััะบัะปะธััะพะต ัะตะปะพ ะพัะบะธะฝัะปะพัั ะฝะฐะทะฐะด ะฒ ะฝะตะฟัะธะฝัะถะดัะฝะฝะพะน ะฟะพะทะต, ะฐ ะดะปะธะฝะฝัะต ะฝะพะณะธ ะฑัะปะธ ัะบัะตัะตะฝั ะฟะตัะตะด ะฝะธะผ. ะัะถะฝะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะธะผะตัั ะพััััะน ะณะปะฐะท ะธ ะฟัะธัะผะพััะตัััั ะฟะพะฒะฝะธะผะฐัะตะปัะฝะตะต, ััะพะฑั ะฟะพะฝััั, ััะพ ะตะณะพ ะณัะฑั ะฑัะปะธ ะฑะปะตะดะฝะตะต ะพะฑััะฝะพะณะพ. ะ ััะฐัััั, ัะตะทะบะธะน ะทะฐะฟะฐั ะดะตะทะธะฝัะธัะธััััะตะณะพ ััะตะดััะฒะฐ, ะบะพัะพััะผ ะฑัะปะธ ะฟัะพะฟะธัะฐะฝั ััะตะฝั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั, ัะบััะฒะฐะป ะทะฐะฟะฐั ะบ**ะฒะธ ะฝะฐ ะตะณะพ ะบะพะถะต. ะะฝ ะฑัะป ะพะดะตั ะฒ ัะธัััะน ัััะฝัะน ะบะพัััะผ, ะบะพัะพััะน ัะฐะบะถะต ะฟะพะผะพะณ ัะบัััั ะบัะฐัะฝัะต ะฟััะฝะฐ, ะฒ ะฟัะพัะธะฒะฝะพะผ ัะปััะฐะต ะฒัััะตะฒะพะถะธะฒัะธะต ะฑั ะฒัะตั ะพะบััะถะฐััะธั . ะ ะตะณะพ ะฒััะฐะถะตะฝะธะธ ะปะธัะฐ ััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐัั ะถัััะบะพััั, ะบะพัะพัะฐั ัะฐะบ ะธ ะณะพะฒะพัะธะปะฐ, ะฑัะดัะพ ะพะฝ ะฟะพะฑัะฒะฐะป ะฒ ัะฐะผะพะผ ะฐะดั, ะธ ััะพ ั ะฝะธะผ ะฝะต ััะพะธั ัััะธัั. ะะตะฝะธั ะฟะพะดะพััะป ะบ ะดะธะฒะฐะฝั ะธ ะฝะฐะบะปะพะฝะธะปัั ะฟะพะฑะปะธะถะต, ััะพะฑั ะฟัะพัะตะฟัะฐัั ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะฝะฐ ัั ะพ: ยซะะธะดะตะพะทะฐะฟะธัะธ ั ะบะฐะผะตั ะฝะฐะฑะปัะดะตะฝะธั ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพัะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะฝะฐะผะตัะตะฝะฝะพ ะฟะพะดะดะตะปะฐะฝั, ัะบะพัะตะต ะฒัะตะณะพ, ััะพ ัะดะตะปะฐะปะธ ะฒะฐัะธ ะฝะฐะฟะฐะดะฐะฒัะธะต. ะะฝะธ ะฟะพะดัะธััะธะปะธ ัะปะตะดั ะธ ัะฑัะฐะปะธ ะฒัะต ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝัะต ัะปะธะบะธ. ะญัะพ ะดะพะบัะพั ะฏะฝะฐ ะะณะฐัะพะฝะพะฒะฐ, ะดะตะถััะธะฒัะฐั ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพััั. ะะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั ัะฐะผ ะฟะพะดัะฒะตัะดะธะป ััะพ. ะฏ ัะฐะบะถะต ะฟะตัะตะฟัะพะฒะตัะธะป ะทะฐะฟะธัะธ. ะญัะพ ะดะตะนััะฒะธัะตะปัะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐยป. ะขะพะปัะบะพ ัะพะณะดะฐ ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ะฟะพะดะฝัะป ะณะปะฐะทะฐ. ะฃ ะฏะฝั ัะตะทะบะพ ะฟะตัะตั ะฒะฐัะธะปะพ ะดัั ะฐะฝะธะต ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฝัะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฟะตัะตะด ะฝะตะน ัะฐะผ ะฑะพัั ะบะพัะฟะพัะฐัะธะธ ยซะะฐัะฐะผะฐัะฝัยป. ยซะั ัะพั ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบ, ะบะพัะพััะน ะฟะพะผะพะณ ะผะฝะต ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพััั?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน, ะพะณะปัะดัะฒะฐั ะตั ั ะณะพะปะพะฒั ะดะพ ะฝะพะณ. ะฏะฝะฐ ััั ะถะต ะฟัะธะณะฝัะปะฐ ะณะพะปะพะฒั, ะฝะต ัะตัะฐััั ะฒัััะตัะธัััั ั ะณัะพะทะฝัะผ ะฒะทะณะปัะดะพะผ ะผัะถัะธะฝั. ยซะะฐ... ะญ-ััะพ ะฑัะปะฐ ัยป, - ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ัะพะฒัะตะผ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐะปะฐ, ะพ ััะผ ะธะดัั ัะตัั, ะฝะพ ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฒ ะตั ะธะฝัะตัะตัะฐั ะฒะพะนัะธ ะฒ ะดะพะฒะตัะธะต ะบ ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒั. ะัะณะพะดะฐ ะฝะต ะทะฐััะฐะฒะธั ัะตะฑั ะถะดะฐัั. ะขะฐะบ ัะปััะธะปะพัั, ััะพ ะฒ ะฆะตะฝััะฐะปัะฝะพะผ ะฒะพะตะฝะฝะพะผ ะณะพัะฟะธัะฐะปะต ัะพะฑะธัะฐะปะธัั ะพัะพะฑัะฐัั ะบะฐะฝะดะธะดะฐัะพะฒ ะดะปั ะฟัะพั ะพะถะดะตะฝะธั ะฟัะฐะบัะธะบะธ. ะ ั ะพัั ััะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะพะฑะพะทะฝะฐัะตะฝะพ ะบะฐะบ ัะฐะบะพะฒะพะต, ะฒัะต ะฒ ััะพะน ะพััะฐัะปะธ ะทะฝะฐะปะธ, ััะพ ะธะฝัะตัะฝั ะฒ ะบะพะฝะตัะฝะพะผ ะธัะพะณะต ะฑัะดัั ะฟัะธะฝััั ะฝะฐ ัะฐะฑะพัั ะธ ะดะพะถะธะฒัั ะดะพ ะบะพะฝัะฐ ัะฒะพะตะน ะบะฐััะตัั ะฒ ััะพะผ ัััะตะถะดะตะฝะธะธ. ะัะปะธ ัะถ ะฝะฐ ัะพ ะฟะพัะปะพ, ะฆะตะฝััะฐะปัะฝัะน ะฒะพะตะฝะฝัะน ะณะพัะฟะธัะฐะปั ะธะผะตะป ะดะพัััะฟ ะบ ัะตััััะฐะผ, ะบะพัะพััะต ะฑัะปะธ ะฝะฐะผะฝะพะณะพ ะปัััะต, ัะตะผ ะฒ ััะพะน ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัะต. ะฏะฝะฐ ะฟะปะฐะฝะธัะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะฟะพะดััะถะธัััั ั ะะธัะฐะปะธะตะผ ะฒ ะฝะฐะดะตะถะดะต ะธัะฟะพะปัะทะพะฒะฐัั ะตะณะพ ัะฒัะทะธ, ััะพะฑั ะฟะพะฟะฐััั ะฒ ะปััััั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั. ยซะฏ ะผะพะณั ะบะพะผะฟะตะฝัะธัะพะฒะฐัั ัะตะฑะต ะฒัะตะผ, ัะตะผ ัั ะทะฐั ะพัะตัั, ะดะฐะถะต ะฑัะฐะบะพะผยป, - ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ะฟัะตัะฒะฐะป ะตั ะผััะปะธ ั ะพะปะพะดะฝัะน ะณะพะปะพั ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ะะณะพ ะปะธัะพ ะพััะฐะฒะฐะปะพัั ะพััััะฐะฝัะฝะฝัะผ, ะฝะพ ะผััะปั ะพ ะฒัะตัะฐัะฝะตะน ะฝะพัะธ ัะผัะณัะธะปะฐ ะถัััะบัั ะปะธะฝะธั ะตะณะพ ััะฐ. ยซะงัะพ ะถ... ะฏ...ยป - ััะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะฝะฐััะพะปัะบะพ ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพ, ัะตะผ ะฏะฝะฐ ะผะพะณะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต ะฟัะตะดััะฐะฒะธัั, ััะพ ะพะฝะฐ ั ัััะดะพะผ ะผะพะณะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะพะฑัะฐัั ัะปะพะฒะฐ. ยซะัะธั ะพะดะธ ะบะพ ะผะฝะต, ะบะฐะบ ัะพะปัะบะพ ะฟัะธะผะตัั ัะตัะตะฝะธะตยป, - ะฒััะฐะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ะธ ะถะตััะพะผ ะฟะพะฟัะพัะธะป ะะตะฝะธัะฐ ะดะฐัั ะตะน ัะฒะพะน ะบะพะฝัะฐะบัะฝัะน ัะตะปะตัะพะฝ. ะะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั ะฟะพัะฟะตัะธะป ะธ ะฟัะตะดะปะพะถะธะป ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะฟัะพะฒะพะดะธัั ะตะณะพ ะบ ะฒัั ะพะดั. ยซะ ััะพะผ ะฝะตั ะฝะตะพะฑั ะพะดะธะผะพััะธยป, - ะพัะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ัะพั, ะธ ะฒัั ะตะณะพ ะฟะพะฒะตะดะตะฝะธะต ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ััะฐะปะพ ั ะพะปะพะดะฝัะผ. ะะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝ ะพััะฐะฝะพะฒะธะปัั, ะบะฐะบ ะฑัะดัะพ ะตะณะพ ะบะพะต-ััะพ ะพัะตะฝะธะปะพ. ะะฝ ะพะฑะตัะฝัะปัั ะบ ะดะธัะตะบัะพัั ะธ ัะบะฐะทะฐะป: ยซะะพะถะฐะปัะนััะฐ, ะฟะพะทะฐะฑะพัััะตัั ะพ ะฝะตะนยป. ยซะะพะฝะตัะฝะพยป, - ะทะฐะฒะตัะธะป ะตะณะพ ะดะธัะตะบัะพั ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั ั ะฒะตะถะปะธะฒะพะน ัะปัะฑะบะพะน. ะฃะฑะตะดะธะฒัะธัั, ััะพ ะพะฝะธ ะฝะฐั ะพะดัััั ะฒะฝะต ะฟัะตะดะตะปะพะฒ ัะปััะธะผะพััะธ, ะะตะฝะธั ะฟะพะดะพััะป ะบ ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ยซะะฐัะฐะปัะฝะธะบ, - ะพะฑัะฐัะธะปัั ะพะฝ ัะธั ะธะผ, ะฝะพ ะฝะฐััะพััะตะปัะฝัะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ, - ะฒั ะฒะตะดั ัะถะต ะถะตะฝะฐัั. ะฏ ะฝะต ะดัะผะฐั, ััะพ ะฑัะฐะบ ัะฒะปัะตััั ะฟัะธะตะผะปะตะผัะผ ะฒะฐัะธะฐะฝัะพะผ ะดะปั ะณะพัะฟะพะถะธ ะะณะฐัะพะฝะพะฒะพะน. ะะฐะผ ัะปะตะดัะตั ะพัะบะฐะทะฐัััั ะพั ััะพะณะพ ะฟัะตะดะปะพะถะตะฝะธัยป. ะัะฑั ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะดััะฝัะปะธัั ะฟัะธ ัะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะฝะธะธ ะพ ะตะณะพ ะฑัะฐะบะต, ะฐ ะปะธัะพ ะตัั ะฑะพะปััะต ะฟะพะผัะฐัะฝะตะปะพ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝ ะฟะพะดัะผะฐะป ะพ ะถะตะฝัะธะฝะต, ะฝะฐ ะบะพัะพัะพะน ะตะณะพ ะทะฐััะฐะฒะธะปะธ ะถะตะฝะธัััั. ยซะขะตะฑะต ััะพ, ะถะธัั ะฝะฐะดะพะตะปะพ?ยป - ะฟัะธะณัะพะทะธะป ะพะฝ ัะฒะพะตะผั ะฟะพะผะพัะฝะธะบั. ะขะพั ะฟะพะฝัะป, ััะพ ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ัะพ, ัะตะณะพ ะฝะต ัะปะตะดะพะฒะฐะปะพ, ะธ ััั ะถะต ะทะฐะดัะพะถะฐะป. ะ ััะพั ะผะพะผะตะฝั ะพะฝ ะฝะต ะทะฝะฐะป, ะบัะพ ะฑะพะปััะต ะฒัะตะณะพ ะทะปะธั ะตะณะพ ะฑะพััะฐ - ะฝะพะฒะฐั ะฝะตะฒะตััะฐ ะธะปะธ ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบ, ััะพััะธะน ะทะฐ ะฒัะตัะฐัะฝะธะผ ะฝะฐะฟะฐะดะตะฝะธะตะผ. ะขะตะผ ะฒัะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐัั ะฝะฐ ะฒะธะปะปั, ะบะพัะพััั ะดะพะปะถะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะดะตะปะธัั ั ะผัะถะตะผ. ะญะบะพะฝะพะผะบะฐ ััะตะดะฝะธั ะปะตั, ะะธะบัะพัะธั ะ ะพะผะฐะฝะพะฒะฐ, ะฒัััะตัะธะปะฐ ะตั ะฒ ัะพะนะต, ะฝะฐ ะตั ะปะธัะต ะฑัะปะพ ะฝะฐะฟะธัะฐะฝะพ ะฑะตัะฟะพะบะพะนััะฒะพ. ยซะะพัะตะผั ะฒะฐั ะฝะต ะฑัะปะพ ะฒัะตัะฐ ะฒะตัะตัะพะผ, ะณะพัะฟะพะถะฐ?ยป ยซะฏ ะดะพะปะถะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะผะตะฝะธัั ะบะพะปะปะตะณัยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ัะฐ. ะั ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะฑัะปะธ ะฟะพะบัะฐัะฝะตะฒัะธะผะธ ะธ ัะปะตะทะธะปะธัั ะพั ัััะฐะปะพััะธ. ะฃะฒะธะดะตะฒ ััะพ, ะะธะบัะพัะธั ัะตัะธะปะฐ ะฝะต ะฝะฐััะฐะธะฒะฐัั ะฝะฐ ัะฒะพัะผ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝัะปะฐัั ะฝะฐะฒะตัั ะธ ะฟะพะณััะทะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ะฒะฐะฝะฝั. ะั ะผััะปะธ ะฝะตะฒะพะปัะฝะพ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะธัั ะบ ะฟัะตะดัะดััะตะน ะฝะพัะธ, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ, ะบะฐะบ ะตั ััะบะธ ะฝะฐัะฐะปะธ ะณะพัะตัั. ะะฝะฐ ะฒะทะดะพั ะฝัะปะฐ ะธ ะฟะพะณััะทะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ะฒะพะดั, ะบะฐะบ ะฑั ัะฟะฐัะฐััั ะพั ััะตะฒะพะถะฝัั ะฒะพัะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะฝะธะน. ะั ััะฒััะฒะฐ ะฟะพ ััะพะผั ะฟะพะฒะพะดั ะฑัะปะธ ัะผะตัะฐะฝะฝัะผะธ, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ั ัะตะณะพ ะฝะฐัะฐัั. ะะฝะฐ ะดะฐะถะต ะฝะต ะฟัะตะดััะฐะฒะปัะปะฐ, ััะพ ััะพ ะฑัะป ะทะฐ ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบ. ะะพะปะตะต ัะพะณะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ัะตะฟะตัั ะฑัะปะฐ ะทะฐะผัะถะตะผ. ะั ััะพะน ะผััะปะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะฒะธะฝั. ะะตัะผะพััั ะฝะฐ ะพะฑััะพััะตะปัััะฒะฐ, ะบะพัะพััะต ะฟัะธะฒะตะปะธ ะธั ะบ ะฝัะฝะตัะฝะตะผั ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธั, ัะฐะบั ะพััะฐะฒะฐะปัั ัะฐะบัะพะผ: ะพะฝะฐ ะธ ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ัะฒะปััััั ะผัะถะตะผ ะธ ะถะตะฝะพะน. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒััะปะฐ ะธะท ะฒะฐะฝะฝั, ะพะดะตะปะฐัั ะธ ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ะฟัะธะณะพัะพะฒะธะปะฐัั ะบ ะฒัั ะพะดั. ะะฐะบ ัะพะปัะบะพ ะพะฝะฐ ัะฟัััะธะปะฐัั ะฒะฝะธะท, ะะธะบัะพัะธั ััั ะถะต ะทะฐััะตัะธะปะฐัั ะฒะพะบััะณ ะฝะตั: ยซะั ะพะฟััั ัั ะพะดะธัะต ัะฐะบ ัะบะพัะพ? ะะพัะตะผั ะฑั ะฒะฐะผ ัะฝะฐัะฐะปะฐ ะฝะต ะฟะพะทะฐะฒััะฐะบะฐัั?ยป ะขะฐ ะฟะพัะผะพััะตะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะฒัะตะผั. ยซะะตั, ั ะพะฟะพะทะดะฐั ะฝะฐ ัะฐะฑะพััยป. ะะธะบัะพัะธั ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒัะฐั, ะฟะพััะพะผั ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะดะปั ััะพะน ะผะพะปะพะดะพะน ะดะตะฒััะบะธ ัะฒะปัะตััั ะฝะพัะผะพะน ะฟัะพะฒะพะดะธัั ะฝะฐ ัะฐะฑะพัะต ะฝะตัะผะตัะตะฝะฝะพะต ะบะพะปะธัะตััะฒะพ ะฒัะตะผะตะฝะธ. ะขะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟัะพััะฝัะปะฐ ะตะน ััะฐะบะฐะฝ ะผะพะปะพะบะฐ: ยซะัะฟะตะนัะต ั ะพัั ะฑั ััะพ. ะััะพัะพะถะฝะพ, ะพะฝะพ ะณะพัััะตะตยป. ยซะกะฟะฐัะธะฑะพยป, - ัะธั ะพ ะฟัะพะธะทะฝะตัะปะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ, ัะพะณัะตัะฐั ะทะฐะฑะพัะพะน ัะบะพะฝะพะผะบะธ. ยซะะต ะทะฐ ััะพยป, - ะปัะฑะตะทะฝะพ ัะปัะฑะฝัะปะฐัั ัะบะพะฝะพะผะบะฐ. ะะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ััะพั ะฑัะฐะบ ะธ ะฑัะป ะฒัะฝัะถะดะตะฝะฝัะผ, ะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะดะพััะฐัะพัะฝะพ ั ะพัะพัะพ ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฝะตะปัะทั ัะผะพััะตัั ะฝะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ัะฒััะพะบะฐ. ะะฐะถะต ะฑะตะท ัะธััะปะฐ ะถะตะฝั ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ - ะฟัะพัะตััะธะพะฝะฐะปัะฝัะน ะฒัะฐั, ะธ ััะพ ะดะตะปะฐะตั ะตั ะฑะพะปะตะต ัะตะผ ะดะพััะพะนะฝะพะน ัะฒะฐะถะตะฝะธั. ะะพะฟะธะฒ ะผะพะปะพะบะพ, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐ ััะฐะบะฐะฝ ะะธะบัะพัะธะธ ะธ ะฝะฐะฟัะฐะฒะธะปะฐัั ะบ ะฒัั ะพะดั. ะะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะฟะพัะปะฐ ััะฐะทั ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั ะพัะดัั ะฐ ะฟะตััะพะฝะฐะปะฐ. ะะฝะฐ ะฒััะปะฐ ะธะท ะดะพะผะฐ ะฟะพัะฐะฝััะต, ะฟะพัะพะผั ััะพ ะตะน ะฝัะถะฝะพ ะฑัะปะพ ะทะฐะนัะธ ะฒ ััะฐัะธะพะฝะฐั. ะั ะผะฐัั ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟะพะผะตัะตะฝะฐ ะฒ ะพัะดะตะปะตะฝะธะต ะธะฝัะตะฝัะธะฒะฝะพะน ัะตัะฐะฟะธะธ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะผะพะปัะฐ ะฒะพัะปะฐ ะฒ ะฟะฐะปะฐัั ะธ ะฟัะพะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ัะพััะพัะฝะธะต ะผะฐัะตัะธ. ะะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพ-ะฟัะตะถะฝะตะผั ะฝะฐั ะพะดะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ะฟะปะพั ะพะผ ัะพััะพัะฝะธะธ. ะกะตัะดัะต ะดะตะฒััะบะธ ะทะฐะฝัะปะพ. ะั ะผะฐัั ัััะฐะดะฐะปะฐ ะพั ัะตัะดะตัะฝะพะน ะฝะตะดะพััะฐัะพัะฝะพััะธ ะธ ะฝะฐั ะพะดะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ะบัะธัะธัะตัะบะพะผ ัะพััะพัะฝะธะธ. ะะดะธะฝััะฒะตะฝะฝัะผ ัะฟะพัะพะฑะพะผ ัะพั ัะฐะฝะธัั ะถะธะทะฝั ะผะฐัะตัะธ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟะตัะตัะฐะดะบะฐ ัะตัะดัะฐ, ะบะพัะพัะฐั, ะตััะตััะฒะตะฝะฝะพ, ะพะฑะพัะปะฐัั ะฑั ะฒ ัะตะปะพะต ัะพััะพัะฝะธะต. ะัะฝะพะฒะฝะพะน ะฟัะธัะธะฝะพะน, ะฟะพ ะบะพัะพัะพะน ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะพะณะปะฐัะธะปะฐัั ะฝะฐ ะฑัะฐะบ, ะฑัะปะพ ัะพ, ััะพ ะตั ะพัะตั ัะณัะพะถะฐะป ัะดะตัะถะฐัั ะดะตะฝัะณะธ, ะฝะตะพะฑั ะพะดะธะผัะต ะดะปั ะพะฟะตัะฐัะธะธ. ะขะตะฟะตัั, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒััะปะฐ ะทะฐะผัะถ, ะบะฐะบ ัะพะณะพ ััะตะฑะพะฒะฐะป ะตั ะพัะตั, ะฒัั, ััะพ ะธะผ ะฑัะปะพ ะฝัะถะฝะพ, ััะพ ะฝะฐะนัะธ ะฟะพะดั ะพะดััะตะณะพ ะดะพะฝะพัะฐ ัะตัะดัะฐ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฑัะพัะธะปะฐ ะณะพััะบะธะน ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะฝะฐ ะผะฐัั: ยซะะฐะผะฐ, ั ัะตะฑั ะฒัะปะตัั. ะฏ ะพะฑะตัะฐัยป. ะั ะผะฐัั ะฑัะปะฐ ัะฐะผัะผ ะฑะปะธะทะบะธะผ ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบะพะผ, ะตั ะณะปะฐะฒะฝะพะน ะฟะพะดะดะตัะถะบะพะน ะธ ะฝะฐะดัะถะฝัะผ ะดะพะฒะตัะตะฝะฝัะผ ะปะธัะพะผ. ะะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพ ะทะฐะทะฒะพะฝะธะป ัะตะปะตัะพะฝ. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะดะพััะฐะปะฐ ัะตะปะตัะพะฝ ะธะท ะบะฐัะผะฐะฝะฐ ะธ ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ. ยซะะธะปะฐ, - ัะฐะทะดะฐะปัั ะผัะถัะบะพะน ะณะพะปะพั. - ะะฝะต ะฝัะถะฝะพ, ััะพะฑั ัั ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะผะฝะต ะพะดะฝั ััะปัะณัยป. ะะปะฐะฒะฐ 3 ะงะฐััะฝัะน ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝั ะะฐะผะธะปะปะต ะฟะพะทะฒะพะฝะธะป ะคัะดะพั ะคะฐะปัะบะพะฒ. ะะฝะธ ััะธะปะธัั ะฒ ะพะดะฝะพะผ ะผะตะดะธัะธะฝัะบะพะผ ัะฝะธะฒะตััะธัะตัะต, ั ะพัั ะพะฝ ะฑัะป ะฝะฐ ะดะฒะฐ ะณะพะดะฐ ััะฐััะต ะตั. ะะฐัะตะผ ะพะฝ ัะตั ะฐะป ะทะฐ ะณัะฐะฝะธัั, ััะพะฑั ะฟัะพะดะพะปะถะธัั ะพะฑััะตะฝะธะต, ะธ ัะตะฟะตัั ะฑัะป ะธะทะฒะตััะฝัะผ ัะบัะฟะตััะพะผ ะฒ ัะฒะพะตะน ะพะฑะปะฐััะธ. ะคัะดะพั ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ั ะพัะพัะพ ะทะฐะฑะพัะธะปัั ะพ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะต, ะฟะพััะพะผั ะพะฝะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะดะพะฒะพะปัะฝะพ ะฑะปะธะทะบะธ. ยซะ ะบะฐะบะพะน ััะปัะณะต ะธะดัั ัะตัั?ยป - ะฟััะผะพ ัะฟัะพัะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ยซะฃ ะผะตะฝั ะตััั ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝั, ะฝัะถะดะฐััะธะนัั ะฒ ะปะตัะตะฝะธะธ, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ ั ะผะตะฝั ะฟะพัะฒะธะปะพัั ะฝะตะพัะปะพะถะฝะพะต ะดะตะปะพ, ะธ ั ะฝะต ะดัะผะฐั, ััะพ ัะผะพะณั ะทะฐะฝััััั ััะธะผ ะฒ ะฑะปะธะถะฐะนัะตะต ะฒัะตะผั. ะะพะถะฐะปัะนััะฐ, ะฒะพะทัะผะธ ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะฐ ะฟะพะด ัะฒะพั ะบััะปะพยป, - ะฟะพะฟัะพัะธะป ะคัะดะพั. ะะฐะผะธะปะฐ ะฒะทะณะปัะฝัะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ัะฒะพั ัะฐัะฟะธัะฐะฝะธะต. ะกะตะณะพะดะฝั ั ะฝะตั ะฝะต ะฑัะปะพ ะดะตะป ะฒ ะพัะธัะต, ะธ, ะตัะปะธ ะฝะต ััะธัะฐัั ะดะฒัั ะพะฟะตัะฐัะธะน, ะทะฐะฟะปะฐะฝะธัะพะฒะฐะฝะฝัั ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปะดะตะฝั, ะพะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟัะฐะบัะธัะตัะบะธ ัะฒะพะฑะพะดะฝะฐ. ยซะะฐ, ะบะพะฝะตัะฝะพ. ะัะดะฐ ะผะฝะต ะฟะพะดัะตั ะฐัั?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ยซะฏ ะฝะฐะฟะธัั ัะตะฑะต ะฐะดัะตั. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะดะพะฑะตัััััั ััะดะฐ, ะฟัะพััะพ ัะบะฐะถะธ ะพั ัะฐะฝะฝะธะบะฐะผ, ััะพ ัั ะฟัะธะตั ะฐะปะฐ ะบ ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝั ะะฐะปะฐัะฝะธะบะพะฒั, ะธ ะพะฝะธ ะพะฑะพ ะฒััะผ ะฟะพะทะฐะฑะพัััััยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะป ะคัะดะพั. ยซะะพะณะพะฒะพัะธะปะธััยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ. ยซะัั ะบะพะต-ััะพ, - ะดะพะฑะฐะฒะธะป ะคัะดะพั, ะธ ะตะณะพ ัะพะฝ ััะฐะป ัะตัััะทะฝัะผ. - ะะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะธะบะพะผั ะพะฑ ััะพะผ ะฝะต ะณะพะฒะพัะธ ะธ ะฝะต ะทะฐะดะฐะฒะฐะน ะปะธัะฝะธั ะฒะพะฟัะพัะพะฒ. ะัั, ััะพ ัะตะฑะต ะฝัะถะฝะพ ัะดะตะปะฐัั, ััะพ ะฒัะปะตัะธัั ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะฐยป. ยซะฏัะฝะพ. ะะต ะฒะพะปะฝัะนััยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ะะฝะธ ะฟะพะฟัะพัะฐะปะธัั, ะธ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒัะทะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะฐะบัะธ, ััะพะฑั ะดะพะฑัะฐัััั ะบ ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัั. ะะตััะพ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะพัั ะฒ ะฟัะตััะธะถะฝะพะผ ัะฐะนะพะฝะต, ะทะฐะฟะพะปะฝะตะฝะฝะพะผ ะฒะธะปะปะฐะผะธ, ะพัะฝะฐััะฝะฝัะผะธ ัะธััะตะผะฐะผะธ ะฑะตะทะพะฟะฐัะฝะพััะธ ะฒัััะตะณะพ ััะพะฒะฝั. ะะฐะบ ะธ ะพะถะธะดะฐะปะพัั, ะฝะฐ ะฒั ะพะดะต ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ััะพะปะบะฝัะปะฐัั ั ัััะพะฒะพะน ะพั ัะฐะฝะพะน. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะธะฝััััะบัะธัะผ ะธ ัะฟะพะผัะฝัะปะฐ ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝะฐ ะะฐะปะฐัะฝะธะบะพะฒะฐ. ะกะดะตะปะฐะฒ ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ, ััะพะฑั ัะฑะตะดะธัััั ะฒ ะฟัะฐะฒะดะธะฒะพััะธ ะตั ัะปะพะฒ, ะพั ัะฐะฝะฝะธะบ ะฟัะธะณะปะฐัะธะป ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะฒะฝัััั. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะปะตะณะบะพ ะฝะฐัะปะฐ ะฒะธะปะปั. ะะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝัะปะฐัั ะฟะพ ัััะฟะตะฝัะบะฐะผ ะธ ะฟะพะทะฒะพะฝะธะปะฐ ะฒ ะดะฒะตัั. ะงะตัะตะท ะฝะตัะบะพะปัะบะพ ัะตะบัะฝะด ะดะฒะตัั ะพัะบััะปะฐัั. ะะฐะทะฐะปะพัั, ััะพ ัะธััะฐัะธั ะดะตะนััะฒะธัะตะปัะฝะพ ะฑัะปะฐ ััะพัะฝะพะน. ะะตะฝะธั ะฝะฐั ะผััะธะปัั. ะะฝะธ ะถะดะฐะปะธ ะคัะดะพัะฐ, ะฝะพ ะฒะผะตััะพ ััะพะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพัะพะณะต ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐัั ะฝะตะทะฒะฐะฝะฐั ะณะพัััั. ยซะัะพััะธัะต, ะฒัโฆยป - ะฝะฐัะฐะปะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ. ะะท ัะบะฐะทะฐะฝะธะน ะคัะดะพัะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะถะต ัะดะตะปะฐะปะฐ ะฒัะฒะพะด, ััะพ ััะพั ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝั ัะตะฝะธั ัะฒะพั ะปะธัะฝะพะต ะฟัะพัััะฐะฝััะฒะพ, ะธ ััะพะฑั ะธะทะฑะตะถะฐัั ะฝะตะฟัะธััะฝะพััะตะน, ะพะฝะฐ ัะพัะปะฐ ัะฐะทัะผะฝัะผ ะฝะฐะดะตัั ะผะฐัะบั. ะะตะทะพะฟะฐัะฝะพััั ะฑัะปะฐ ะฒ ะฟัะธะพัะธัะตัะต. ยซะะพะบัะพั ะคะฐะปัะบะพะฒ ะฟะพะฟัะพัะธะป ะผะตะฝั ะฟัะธะตั ะฐัั ััะดะฐยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ะะตะฝะธั ะผะตะปัะบะพะผ ะฒะทะณะปัะฝัะป ะฝะฐ ะฐะฟัะตัะบั, ะบะพัะพััั ะพะฝะฐ ะดะตัะถะฐะปะฐ: ยซะั ะทะฝะฐะตัะต, ััะพ ะดะตะปะฐัั?ยป ยซะะฐ, ะดะพะบัะพั ะคะฐะปัะบะพะฒ ะดะฐะป ะผะฝะต ะธะฝััััะบัะธะธ. ะฏ ัะพั ัะฐะฝั ะฒัั ะฒ ัััะพะณะพะน ะบะพะฝัะธะดะตะฝัะธะฐะปัะฝะพััะธยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ. ะะตะฝะธั ะทะฝะฐะป, ััะพ ะคัะดะพั ะฝะต ะฟะตัะตะดะฐะป ะฑั ัะฒะพะธ ะพะฑัะทะฐะฝะฝะพััะธ ัะพะผั, ะบัะพ ะฝะต ะทะฐัะปัะถะธะฒะฐะตั ะดะพะฒะตัะธั ะธะปะธ ะฝะตะบะพะผะฟะตัะตะฝัะตะฝ, ะฟะพััะพะผั ััะฒะตัะดะธัะตะปัะฝะพ ะบะธะฒะฝัะป ะธ ะฒะฟัััะธะป ะะฐะผะธะปะปั. ะะฝ ะฟัะพะฒัะป ะตั ะผะธะผะพ ัะพัะบะพัะฝะพะน ะณะพััะธะฝะพะน, ะทะฐัะตะผ ะฒะฒะตัั ะฟะพ ะปะตััะฝะธัะต ะฒ ัะฟะฐะปัะฝั. ะ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัะต ะฑัะปะพ ัะตะผะฝะพ. ยซะะฐะบ ั ะฑัะดั ะฟัะพะฒะพะดะธัั ะปะตัะตะฝะธะต ะฑะตะท ัะฒะตัะฐ?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ััะปััะฐะป ะถะตะฝัะบะธะน ะณะพะปะพั, ัะพ ะฟะพัะฟะตัะฝะพ ัั ะฒะฐัะธะป ัะฒะพะน ะฟะธะดะถะฐะบ ะธ ะฝะฐััะฝัะป ะตะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะปะธัะพ. ยซะะบะปััะธ ัะฒะตัยป, - ะฟัะธะบะฐะทะฐะป ะพะฝ ัะบะฒะพะทั ัะบะฐะฝั. ะะตะฝะธั ััะปะบะฝัะป ะฒัะบะปััะฐัะตะปะตะผ, ะธ ะบะพะผะฝะฐัั ะทะฐะปะธะป ััะบะธะน ัะฒะตั. ะะตัะฒะพะน ะผััะปัั ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะฑัะปะพ ัะพ, ััะพ ะณะพะปะพั ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะฐ ะฑัะป ะดะพะฒะพะปัะฝะพ ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผัะผ, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะพัะผะฐั ะฝัะปะฐัั ะพั ััะธั ะผััะปะตะน. ะะฝะฐ ัะฒะธะดะตะปะฐ ัะตะปะพะฒะตะบะฐ, ะปะตะถะฐัะตะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะบัะพะฒะฐัะธ, ััั ะฑะตะปะฐั ะฟะฐัะฐะดะฝะฐั ััะฑะฐัะบะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฒ ะฟััะฝะฐั ะดะฐะฒะฝะพ ะทะฐัะพั ัะตะน ะบัะพะฒะธ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะต ั ะพัะตะปะฐ ะฒะดะฐะฒะฐัััั ะฒ ะฟะพะดัะพะฑะฝะพััะธ ะธ ัะตัะธะปะฐ ัะพััะตะดะพัะพัะธัััั ะฝะฐ ัะฐะฝะฐั . ะัะถัะธะฝะฐ ัะฒะฝะพ ะฝะต ั ะพัะตะป ะฒัะดะฐะฒะฐัั ัะฒะพั ะปะธัะฝะพััั, ะฟะพััะพะผั ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะตััะตััะฒะตะฝะฝัะผ ะพะฑัะฐะทะพะผ ัะฒะฐะถะฐะปะฐ ะตะณะพ ะณัะฐะฝะธัั ะธ ะฒะตะปะฐ ัะตะฑั ะฟัะธะปะธัะฝะพ. ะะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ัะฒะพั ะฐะฟัะตัะบั ะฝะฐ ััะผะฑะพัะบั ะธ ะดะพััะฐะปะฐ ั ะธัััะณะธัะตัะบะธะต ะธะฝััััะผะตะฝัั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะพะถะฝะธัะฐะผะธ ัะฐะทัะตะทะฐะปะฐ ััะฑะฐัะบั ะฟะฐัะธะตะฝัะฐ, ะพะฑะฝะฐะถะธะฒ ะตะณะพ ัะฐะฝั, ะบะพัะพััะต ะฑัะปะธ ะฟะพะบัััั ัะพะฝะบะธะผ ัะปะพะตะผ ะผะฐัะปะธ. ะะฝะฐ ัะฑัะฐะปะฐ ะฒัั ะธ, ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั, ัะฒะธะดะตะปะฐ ะดะฒะต ะทะธัััะธะต ัะฐะฝั ะฝะฐ ะฟัะฐะฒะพะน ััะพัะพะฝะต ัะพััะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะฐัะฐะปะฐ ะปะตัะตะฝะธะต, ะพะฑัะฐะฑะพัะฐะฒ ัะฐะฝั ัะฒะพะธะผะธ ะปะพะฒะบะธะผะธ ััะบะฐะผะธ. ะัั ััะพ ะฒัะตะผั ะพะฝะฐ ะพััะฐะฒะฐะปะฐัั ัะฟะพะบะพะนะฝะพะน, ะฐ ะตั ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธั ะฑัะปะธ ะฑัััััะผะธ ะธ ัััะตะบัะธะฒะฝัะผะธ. ยซะััั ะปะธ ั ะฒะฐั ะฐะปะปะตัะณะธั ะฝะฐ ะฐะฝะตััะตะทะธั?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ัะตัะตะท ะฝะตะบะพัะพัะพะต ะฒัะตะผั. ะ ััะฐัััั, ัะฐะฝั ะฑัะปะธ ะฝะตะณะปัะฑะพะบะธะต ะธ ะฟะพะฒัะตะดะธะปะธ ะปะธัั ะฝะตะฑะพะปัััั ัะฐััั ะบะพะถะธ, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ ััะตะฑะพะฒะฐะปะพัั ั ะธัััะณะธัะตัะบะพะต ะฒะผะตัะฐัะตะปัััะฒะพ. ะัะพัะตัั ััะตะฑะพะฒะฐะป ะฟัะธะผะตะฝะตะฝะธั ะผะตััะฝะพะน ะฐะฝะตััะตะทะธะธ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะณะพะฒะพัะธะปะฐ ัะฟะพะบะพะนะฝะพ, ะฟะพััะธ ัะธั ะพ, ััะพ ัะตะทะบะพ ะบะพะฝััะฐััะธัะพะฒะฐะปะพ ั ะตั ะฑะตะทัะผะฝัะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพััั. ะะพััะพะผั, ะฝะตัะผะพััั ะฝะฐ ะพะฑะผะตะฝ ะฝะตัะบะพะปัะบะธะผะธ ัะปะพะฒะฐะผะธ, ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ัะพะฒัะตะผ ะฝะต ัะทะฝะฐะป ะตั. ยซะะตัยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะพะฝ ัะฒะพะธะผ ะพะฑััะฝัะผ ั ะพะปะพะดะฝัะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ, ะฟัะพ ัะตะฑั ะฒะพัั ะฒะฐะปัั ะตั ะฟัะพัะตััะธะพะฝะฐะปะธะทะผ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟัะธัััะฟะธะปะฐ ะบ ะฟัะธะณะพัะพะฒะปะตะฝะธั ะฐะฝะตััะตะทะธะธ, ะฐ ะทะฐัะตะผ ะฒะฒะตะปะฐ ะตั ะฒ ะพะฑะปะฐััั ะฒะพะบััะณ ัะฐะฝ. ะะผ ะฟัะธัะปะพัั ะฟะพะดะพะถะดะฐัั ะฟะฐัั ะผะธะฝัั, ะฟะพะบะฐ ะฝะฐัะฐะปะพัั ะดะตะนััะฒะธะต ะฟัะตะฟะฐัะฐัะฐ, ะฟะพัะปะต ัะตะณะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะปะพะถะธะปะฐ ัะฒั. ะัะธะผะตัะฝะพ ัะตัะตะท ัะฐั ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั ะทะฐะบะพะฝัะธะปะฐ. ะ ัะตะปะพะผ, ะปะตัะตะฝะธะต ะฟัะพัะปะพ ะฑััััะพ ะธ ััะฟะตัะฝะพ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพัะผะพััะตะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ัะฒะพะธ ะพะบ**ะฒะฐะฒะปะตะฝะฝัะต ััะบะธ ะธ ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ: ยซะะฝะต ะฝัะถะฝะพ ะฒ ัะฑะพัะฝััยป. ยซะั ะผะพะถะตัะต ะธัะฟะพะปัะทะพะฒะฐัั ัั, ััะพ ะฒะฝะธะทัยป, - ะพัะฒะตัะธะป ะะตะฝะธั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพัะฟะตัะฝะพ ะฟะพะบะธะฝัะปะฐ ัะฟะฐะปัะฝั. ะฃะฑะตะดะธะฒัะธัั, ััะพ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐัั ะฝะฐ ะฟะตัะฒัะน ััะฐะถ, ะะตะฝะธั ะทะฐะบััะป ะดะฒะตัั ะธ ะฟะพัะฟะตัะธะป ะบ ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ยซะฏ ัะทะฝะฐะป, ััะพ ะฑะฐะฝะดะธัั, ะฝะฐะฟะฐะฒัะธะต ะฝะฐ ะฒะฐั ะฒัะตัะฐ, ะฟะพะดะพัะปะฐะฝั ะัััะผะพะผ. ะะฝ, ะฒะตัะพััะฝะพ, ะพััะฐัะฝะฝะพ ั ะพัะตั ะธะทะฑะฐะฒะธัััั ะพั ะฒะฐั, ะพัะพะฑะตะฝะฝะพ ะฟะพัะปะต ัะพะณะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะฒั ะฒััะธัะปะธะปะธ ะตะณะพ ัะฟะธะพะฝะพะฒ ะฒ ะฒะฐัะตะน ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธะธยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะะตะฝะธั. ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ะทะฐััะพะฝะฐะป ะพั ะฑะพะปะธ, ััะฐะถะธะฒะฐััั, ะฐ ะทะฐัะตะผ ะฟะพะดััะฝัะปัั ะบ ะบัะฐั ะบัะพะฒะฐัะธ ะธ ะพะฟัััะธะป ะฝะพะณะธ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะป. ะะฝ ะฒัะณะปัะดะตะป ัะปะฐะฑัะผ, ะฝะพ ะตะณะพ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะฒัะฟัั ะฝัะปะธ ะพะฟะฐัะฝัะผ ะฑะปะตัะบะพะผ. ะัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะฟะตัะตะฒัะป ะฟัะพะฝะทะธัะตะปัะฝัะน ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะฝะฐ ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะฟะพะผะพัะฝะธะบะฐ. ยซะญัะฐ ะถะตะฝัะธะฝะฐ, ะฝะฐ ะบะพัะพัะพะน ั ะฑัะป ะฒัะฝัะถะดะตะฝ ะถะตะฝะธัััั, ะธะผะตะตั ะบะฐะบะพะต-ะปะธะฑะพ ะพัะฝะพัะตะฝะธะต ะบ ะัััะผั?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะป ะพะฝ. ะะตะฝะธั ะฟะพะฝะธะทะธะป ะณะพะปะพั: ยซะะฐ ัะฐะผะพะผ ะดะตะปะต, ะัััะผ ัะฒัะทะฐะปัั ั ะฒะฐัะธะผ ัะตััะตะผ, ะะธัะพะฝะพะผ. ะะฝ ัััะตะผะธะปัั ะฒัะดะฐัั ัะฒะพั ะดะพัั ะทะฐะผัะถ ะทะฐ ัะปะตะฝะฐ ัะตะผัะธ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัั , ะฝะพ, ะฟะพั ะพะถะต, ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะต ัะฐััะผะฐััะธะฒะฐะป ะฒะฐัะตะณะพ ะบัะทะตะฝะฐ ะะปัั, ะบะฐะบ ะฟะพะดั ะพะดััะตะณะพ ะบะฐะฝะดะธะดะฐัะฐ. ะะพะปะถะฝะพ ะฑััั, ะัััะผ ะดะพะณะพะฒะพัะธะปัั ั ะฝะธะผยป. ยซะะฝ ะฝะต ะฟะตัะตััะฐัั ะผะตะฝั ัะดะธะฒะปััั ะบะฐะถะดัะน ะดะตะฝั. ะก ะผะพะตะน ััะพัะพะฝั ะฑัะดะตั ะฝะต ะฒะตะถะปะธะฒะพ ะฟัะพะผะพะปัะฐัั ะฒ ะพัะฒะตัยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน. ะะฐ ะฒัะตะผั ะพััััััะฒะธั ะะธัะฐะปะธั, ะฒ ะณะพัะพะดะต ะฟัะพะธะทะพัะปะพ ะผะฝะพะณะพ ัะพะฑััะธะน, ะฒ ะบะพัะพััั ะฑัะป ะทะฐะผะตัะฐะฝ ะะปัั. ยซะฏ ัะปััะฐะป, ััะพ ั ะะปัะธ ะตััั ะทะฐั ัะดะฐะปัะน ะฑะฐั "ะจะฐัะผ" ะฝะฐ ัะปะธัะต ะัะฑะฐััะบะฐัยป, - ะฟัะพััะฝัะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน. ะะตะฝะธั ะฒัั ะฟะพะฝัะป ั ะฟะพะปััะปะพะฒะฐ. ยซะะฐ, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัะบั ัะฟะธะพะฝะพะฒ ะฒัะณะฝะฐะปะธ ะธะท ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธะธ, ััะพั ะบะปัะฑ ััะฐะป ะธั ะตะดะธะฝััะฒะตะฝะฝัะผ ะธััะพัะฝะธะบะพะผ ะดะพั ะพะดะฐ, ะธ ะตัะปะธ ะตะณะพ ะทะฐะบัะพัั, ัะพ ะธะผ ะฟัะธะดัััั ะดะพะฒะพะปัะฝะพ ััะณะพยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะะตะฝะธั. ยซะะพะผะพะณะธ ะธะผ ะฒ ััะพะผยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน, ะธ ะตะณะพ ะณะพะปะพั ััะฐะป ะฝะฐ ะพะบัะฐะฒั ะฝะธะถะต. ะะตะฝะธั ััะพะปะบะฝัะปัั ั ะะฐะผะธะปะปะพะน, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ัะฟััะบะฐะปัั ะฒะฝะธะท. ะะฝ ะฟัะตะดะฟะพะปะพะถะธะป, ััะพ ะคัะดะพั ะฟัะพะธะฝััััะบัะธัะพะฒะฐะป ะดะตะฒััะบั ะทะฐัะฐะฝะตะต, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ ัะตัะธะป ะฝะตะผะฝะพะณะพ ะตั ะฝะฐะฟัะณะฐัั ะดะปั ะฑะพะปััะตะณะพ ัััะตะบัะฐ: ยซะัะปะธ ะฒั ัะฐััะบะฐะถะตัะต ะพะฑ ััะพะผ ะบะพะผั-ะฝะธะฑัะดั, ะฒะฐั ะฝะฐััะธะณะฝะตั ัะถะฐัะฝะฐั ัะผะตัััยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะพะฝ. ะัะปะธ ัะปัั ะพ ััะฐะฒะผะฐั ะะธัะฐะปะธั ะดะพะนะดัั ะดะพ ะัััะผะฐ ะธะปะธ ะตะณะพ ััะฝะฐ ะะปัะธ, ะพะฝะธ ะพะฑัะทะฐัะตะปัะฝะพ ะฟะพะฒะตัะฝัั ััะพ ะฒ ัะฒะพั ะฟะพะปัะทั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะบะธะฒะฝัะปะฐ: ยซะฏ ัะพั ัะฐะฝั ััะพ ะฒ ัะฐะนะฝะต. ะฏ ัะพะปัะบะพ ะฒะพะทัะผั ัะฒะพั ะฐะฟัะตัะบั ะธ ะฝะตะผะตะดะปะตะฝะฝะพ ัะนะดัยป. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐัั ะฒ ัะฟะฐะปัะฝั, ัะพ ะพะฑะฝะฐััะถะธะปะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝั, ััะพััะตะณะพ ั ะพะบะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะฟัะพัะธะฒ ะดะฒะตัะธ. ะะฝ ััะพัะป ะบ ะฝะตะน ัะฟะธะฝะพะน, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะผะพะณะปะฐ ัะฐััะผะพััะตัั ะตะณะพ ัะธัะพะบะธะต ะฟะปะตัะธ ะธ ะผััะบัะปะธัััั ัะฟะธะฝั. ะะณะพ ัะตะปะพ ะฑัะปะพ ัััะพะนะฝัะผ, ะฟัะพััะพ ะธะดะตะฐะปัะฝัะผ. ยซะั ัะฐะทะฒะต ะฝะต ััะปะธ?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะป ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะฝะฐัะผะตัะปะธะฒัะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ. ะะฝ ะฝะต ะพะฑะตัะฝัะปัั, ะฝะพ ะบะฐะบะธะผ-ัะพ ะพะฑัะฐะทะพะผ ะฟะพะฝัะป, ััะพ ะพะฝะฐ ัะผะพััะธั ะฝะฐ ะฝะตะณะพ. ะะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ะพะฝ ะฟะพััะฒััะฒะพะฒะฐะป ะตั ะณะพัััะธะน ะฒะทะณะปัะด. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะผัััะฝะฝะพ ะพะฟัััะธะปะฐ ะณะพะปะพะฒั. ะะฐะบ ะฑั ะตะน ะฝะต ั ะพัะตะปะพัั ััะพ ะฟัะธะทะฝะฐะฒะฐัั, ะฝะพ ััะพั ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะทะฐะธะฝัะตัะตัะพะฒะฐะป ะตั. ะะปะฐะฒะฐ 4 ะกัะฐะถะธัะพะฒะบะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ, ะพะฟัััะธะฒ ะณะพะปะพะฒั, ัะพัะพะฟะปะธะฒะพ ะฒะทัะปะฐ ัะฒะพั ะฐะฟัะตัะบั. ะัะพัะธััะธะฒ ะณะพัะปะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ะดะฐะปะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝะต ะฝะตัะบะพะปัะบะพ ัะบะฐะทะฐะฝะธะน. ะะฐะบ ะฑั ัะฐะผ ะฝะธ ะฑัะปะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฒัั ะถะต ะฑัะปะฐ ะฒัะฐัะพะผ. ยซะะฐะผ ะฝะตะปัะทั ะฟะพะบะฐ ะผะพัะธัั ัะฒะพะธ ัะฐะฝั. ะะตะทะธะฝัะธัะธััะนัะต ะธั ัะฐะท ะฒ ะดะตะฝั ะธ ะฝะพัะธัะต ัะฒะพะฑะพะดะฝัะต ััะฑะฐัะบะธ, ััะพะฑั ะฝะต ัะฐะทะดัะฐะถะฐัั ัะฐะฝัยป. ะะฝะฐ ะฟะพััะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะฑัััะปะพัะบั ั ัะฐะฑะปะตัะบะฐะผะธ ะธ ััะฑะธะบ ั ะผะฐะทัั ะฝะฐ ััะผะฑะพัะบั. ยซะฏ ะพััะฐะฒะปัั ะฒะฐะผ ััะธ ะปะตะบะฐัััะฒะฐยป. ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ััะพ-ัะพ ะฟัะพะฑะพัะผะพัะฐะป ะฒ ะทะฝะฐะบ ะฟัะธะทะฝะฐัะตะปัะฝะพััะธ, ะฝะพ ะฝะต ะพะฑะตัะฝัะปัั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะพะถะต ะฑะพะปััะต ะฝะธัะตะณะพ ะฝะต ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะธ ััะฐะทั ะถะต ะฟะพะบะธะฝัะปะฐ ะฒะธะปะปั. ะะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะตัะฝัะปะฐัั ะฒ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั, ะฑัะปะพ ัะถะต ะฟะพััะธ ะพะดะธะฝะฝะฐะดัะฐัั ะดะฝั. ะะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะฟัะฐะฒะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ััะพะปะพะฒัั, ััะพะฑั ะฟะตัะตะบััะธัั. ะะดะฒะฐ ััััะพะธะฒัะธัั ะทะฐ ัะฒะพะธะผ ััะพะปะพะผ, ะตั ะฒัะทะฒะฐะปะธ ะฒ ะบะฐะฑะธะฝะตั ะณะปะฐะฒะฒัะฐัะฐ. ยซะฏ ะพัะฟัะฐะฒะปัั ะฏะฝั ะฒ ะฆะตะฝััะฐะปัะฝัะน ะฒะพะตะฝะฝัะน ะณะพัะฟะธัะฐะปั ะฝะฐ ััะฐะถะธัะพะฒะบัยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะณะปะฐะฒะฒัะฐั ัะพะฝะพะผ, ะฝะต ัะตัะฟััะธะผ ะฒะพะทัะฐะถะตะฝะธะน. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟะพััััะตะฝะฐ ะธ ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ: ยซะะพ ั ะดัะผะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฒั ัะถะต ัะตัะธะปะธ ะพัะฟัะฐะฒะธัั ะผะตะฝั?ยป ยซะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ, ั ัะฒะตัะตะฝ, ััะพ ัั ะทะฝะฐะตัั ะพ ัะพะผ, ััะพ ะฒัั ะฒััะพะบะพัะตั ะฝะพะปะพะณะธัะฝะพะต ะพะฑะพััะดะพะฒะฐะฝะธะต ะฝะฐัะตะน ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั ัะฟะพะฝัะธัะพะฒะฐะปะพัั ะบะพัะฟะพัะฐัะธะตะน "ะะฐัะฐะผะฐัะฝั". ะัะตะทะธะดะตะฝั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ ะปะธัะฝะพ ะฟะพะฟัะพัะธะป ะผะตะฝั ะฟะพะทะฐะฑะพัะธัััั ะพ ะฏะฝะต. ะฏ ะฝะต ะผะพะณั ะฟะพะทะฒะพะปะธัั ัะตะฑะต ะฟะพะนัะธ ะฟัะพัะธะฒ ะตะณะพ ะฒะพะปะธยป. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะพัะตัะธะฝะธะปะฐัั ะฟัะธ ัะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะฝะธะธ ะธะผะตะฝะธ ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ะฅะพัั ะพะฝะธ ะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะพัะธัะธะฐะปัะฝะพ ะถะตะฝะฐัั, ะฝะพ ะพะฝะธ ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะต ะฒัััะตัะฐะปะธัั. ะะฝะฐ ะฒะธะดะตะปะฐ ะผัะถัะธะฝั ัะพะปัะบะพ ะฒ ะถััะฝะฐะปะฐั ะธ ะธะฝะพะณะดะฐ ะฒ ะฝะพะฒะพัััั ะฟะพ ัะตะปะตะฒะธะทะพัั. ะะฝะฐัะธั, ะพะฝ ะธ ะฏะฝะฐ? ะกะตัะดัะต ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ัะบะฝัะปะพ, ะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะพััะฐะฒะฐะปะฐัั ัะฟะพะบะพะนะฝะพะน. ยซะะพั ะบะฐะบ?ยป ยซะะฐ, ะฑะพััั, ั ะผะตะฝั ัะฒัะทะฐะฝั ััะบะธ. ะะพัะปััะฐะน, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ, ะผั ะพะฑะฐ ะทะฝะฐะตะผ ะพ ัะฒะพะธั ัะฟะพัะพะฑะฝะพัััั , ะฝะพ...ยป - ะณะปะฐะฒะฒัะฐั ั ะพัะตะป ััะฟะพะบะพะธัั ะดะตะฒััะบั, ะฝะพ ะฝะต ะทะฝะฐะป, ะบะฐะบ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒัะดะตะปัะปะฐัั ััะตะดะธ ัะฒะพะธั ัะฒะตัััะฝะธะบะพะฒ ะฑะปะฐะณะพะดะฐัั ะฝะตะฒะตัะพััะฝะพะผั ัะฐะปะฐะฝัั ะธ ะฟัะพัะตััะธะพะฝะฐะปัะฝะพะน ััะธะบะต. ะะปะฐะฒะฒัะฐั ัะตะฝะธะป ะตั ะฑะพะปััะต ะฒัะตั ะพััะฐะปัะฝัั . ยซะฏ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐัยป, - ะฟัะพะฑะพัะผะพัะฐะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต ะฟะพะด ะฝะพั. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะณะพะฒะพัะธะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต, ััะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฝะต ะฒ ัะพะผ ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธะธ, ััะพะฑั ัะฐััััะฐะธะฒะฐัััั ะธะท-ะทะฐ ะฒะผะตัะฐัะตะปัััะฒะฐ ะะธัะฐะปะธั. ะะฝ ะฑัะป ะฒัะฝัะถะดะตะฝ ะถะตะฝะธัััั ะฝะฐ ะฝะตะน, ะธ, ะตััะตััะฒะตะฝะฝะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะผะพะณะปะฐ ัะฐัััะธััะฒะฐัั ะฝะฐ ัะพ, ััะพ ะพะฝ ะฑัะดะตั ะทะฐะฑะพัะธัััั ะพ ะฝะตะน. ยซะะฝะต ะตัั ะฝัะถะฝะพ ะฟะพะดะณะพัะพะฒะธัััั ะบ ะพะฟะตัะฐัะธะธ, ัะฐะบ ััะพ ั ะฟะพะนะดัยป, - ัะผะธัะตะฝะฝัะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐะปะฐ, ััะพ ะฝะธัะตะณะพ ะฝะต ะผะพะถะตั ัะดะตะปะฐัั, ััะพะฑั ะธะทะผะตะฝะธัั ัะธััะฐัะธั. ะะปะฐะฒะฒัะฐั ะฟัะพััะพ ะฒะทะดะพั ะฝัะป ะธ ัะผะพััะตะป, ะบะฐะบ ะพะฝะฐ ัั ะพะดะธั. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ั ัะฝััะทะธะฐะทะผะพะผ ะฟะพะณััะทะธะปะฐัั ะฒ ัะฐะฑะพัั, ะฟััะฐััั ะฝะต ะดัะผะฐัั ะพ ััะฐะถะธัะพะฒะบะต. ะะฝะฐ ะฑะตะท ะทะฐะผะธะฝะบะธ ะฟัะพะฒะตะปะฐ ัะฒะพั ะฒัะพััั ะพะฟะตัะฐัะธั, ะทะฐัะตะผ ัะฝัะปะฐ ัะฒะพั ั ะธัััะณะธัะตัะบัั ัะพัะผั ะธ, ะฟะพัะผะพััะตะฒ ะฒะฒะตัั , ัััะฐะปะพ ะฟะปัั ะฝัะปะฐัั ะฝะฐ ัััะป. ะะผะตะฝะฝะพ ะฒ ััะพั ะผะพะผะตะฝั ะฒ ะณะพััะธะฝัั ะฒะพัะปะฐ ะฏะฝะฐ ะธ ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ: ยซะะดัะฐะฒััะฒัะน, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ, - ะฟะพะฟัะธะฒะตัััะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ, ััะบะพ ัะปัะฑะฐััั. - ะขั ัะฒะพะฑะพะดะฝะฐ ะฒะตัะตัะพะผ? ะะพะทะฒะพะปั ัะณะพััะธัั ัะตะฑั ัะถะธะฝะพะผยป. ยซะะทะฒะธะฝะธ, ะฝะพ ั ะผะตะฝั ะตััั ะดะตะปะฐ, ั ะบะพัะพััะผะธ ะฝัะถะฝะพ ัะฐะทะพะฑัะฐัััั ะฟะพะทะถะตยป, - ะฒะตะถะปะธะฒะพ ะพัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐัั ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ะะตะฒััะบะฐ ะฝะต ะฑัะปะฐ ะฒ ั ะพัะพัะธั ะพัะฝะพัะตะฝะธัั ั ะฏะฝะพะน. ะะฝะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะฟัะพััะพ ะบะพะปะปะตะณะฐะผะธ, ะฐ ะฝะต ะฟะพะดััะณะฐะผะธ. ะะฑะต ะพะบะพะฝัะธะปะธ ะพะดะธะฝ ะธ ัะพั ะถะต ัะฝะธะฒะตััะธัะตั ะฒ ะพะดะฝะพ ะธ ัะพ ะถะต ะฒัะตะผั. ะัั ัะพะณะดะฐ ะฏะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ัะพะน ะตัั ััััะบะพะน. ะะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ะพัะตะฝั ะฐะผะฑะธัะธะพะทะฝะพะน ะธ ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ั ะพัะตะปะฐ ะฟะพะบัะฐัะพะฒะฐัััั ะธ ะฟัะธะฒะปะตะบะฐัั ะฒัะตะพะฑัะตะต ะฒะฝะธะผะฐะฝะธะต. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ, ะฒ ัะฒะพั ะพัะตัะตะดั, ะฟัะตะดะฟะพัะธัะฐะปะฐ ะพััะฐะฒะฐัััั ะฝะตะทะฐะผะตัะฝะพะน ะธ ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟะพะณััะถะตะฝะฐ ะฒ ัะฒะพะธ ะบะฝะธะณะธ. ะะพะถะฝะพ ัะบะฐะทะฐัั, ััะพ ะดะตะฒััะบะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะฐะฑัะพะปััะฝะพ ัะฐะทะฝัะผะธ. ะะพะฝััะฝะพะต ะดะตะปะพ, ััะพ ะพะฝะธ ะฝะต ะพัะตะฝั ั ะพัะพัะพ ะปะฐะดะธะปะธ. ยซะ, ะพัะตะฝั ะถะฐะปั, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะฏะฝะฐ, ะฒัะณะปัะดั ะฟะพัะตะผั-ัะพ ัะผัััะฝะฝะพะน. - ะะพะพะฑัะต-ัะพ ั ั ะพัะตะปะฐ ั ัะพะฑะพะน ะบะพะต ะพ ััะผ ะฟะพะณะพะฒะพัะธััยป. ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฒััะฐะปะฐ ะธ ะฟะพะดะพัะปะฐ ะบ ัะฒะพะตะผั ัะบะฐััะธะบั, ััะพะฑั ะฟะพะฒะตัะธัั ั ะฐะปะฐั. ยซะะพะฒะพัะธยป, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ, ะฝะต ะณะปัะดั ะฝะฐ ะฏะฝั. ะขะพั ัะฐะบั, ััะพ ะตั ะบะพะปะปะตะณะฐ ัะฐะบ ะธะปะธ ะธะฝะฐัะต ัะฒัะทะฐะปะฐัั ั ะะธัะฐะปะธะตะผ, ะตัั ะฑะพะปััะต ะพัะดะฐะปะธะป ะะฐะผะธะปะปั ะพั ะฏะฝั. ยซะขั, ะดะพะปะถะฝะพ ะฑััั, ัะปััะฐะปะฐ, ะดะฐ? ะะฝะต ะพัะตะฝั ะถะฐะปั. ะฏ ะฟะพะฝััะธั ะฝะต ะธะผะตะปะฐ, ััะพ ะดะธัะตะบัะพัโฆยป ยซะัั ะฒ ะฟะพััะดะบะตยป, - ะฟะตัะตะฑะธะปะฐ ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ. ะะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะฏะฝะฐ ะตัั ะฝะต ะฒัั ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะธ ะฟัะพะดะพะปะถะธะปะฐ: ยซะ ะตัั, ะผะพะถะตัั ัะพั ัะฐะฝะธัั ะฒ ัะตะบัะตัะต ัะพ, ััะพ ะฒัะตัะฐ ะฒะตัะตัะพะผ ัั ะฒััะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ัะผะตะฝั ะฒะผะตััะพ ะผะตะฝั? ะะฝะฐะตัั, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัะบั ั ัะพะฑะธัะฐััั ะฒ ะฆะตะฝััะฐะปัะฝัะน ะฒะพะตะฝะฝัะน ะณะพัะฟะธัะฐะปั, ั ะฝะต ั ะพัั, ััะพะฑั ััะพ ะฟัะธัะธะฝะธะปะพ ะบะฐะบะธะต-ะปะธะฑะพ ะฟัะพะฑะปะตะผัยป. ะะตัะผะพััั ะฝะฐ ัะพ, ััะพ ะฟัะพััะฑะฐ ะฏะฝั ะฑัะปะฐ ะฝะตะพะฑััะฝะพะน, ะะฐะผะธะปะปะฐ ะฝะต ะดัะผะฐะปะฐ ะพะฑ ััะพะผ ะธ ะพัะฒะตัะธะปะฐ: ยซะฏ ะฝะธะบะพะผั ะฝะต ัะบะฐะถัยป. ะ ะปัะฑะพะผ ัะปััะฐะต, ะฝะต ะฑัะปะพ ะฝะธัะตะณะพ ัััะฐะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะฒ ัะพะผ, ััะพะฑั ะฒะทััั ะฝะฐ ัะตะฑั ัะผะตะฝั ะบะพะปะปะตะณะธ. ะัะตะผั ะพั ะฒัะตะผะตะฝะธ ะธะผ ะฟัะธั ะพะดะธะปะพัั ััะฐะปะบะธะฒะฐัััั ั ะปะธัะฝัะผะธ ััะตะทะฒััะฐะนะฝัะผะธ ะพะฑััะพััะตะปัััะฒะฐะผะธ. ะะฐ ัะตััะธัะพัะธะธ ะฑะพะปัะฝะธัั. ะคัะดะพั ัะธะดะตะป ะฝะฐ ะทะฐะดะฝะตะผ ัะธะดะตะฝัะต ะดะพัะพะณะพะน ัััะฝะพะน ะผะฐัะธะฝั, ะบะพัะพัะฐั ะฑัะปะฐ ะฟัะธะฟะฐัะบะพะฒะฐะฝะฐ ั ะฒะพัะพั. ยซะั, - ัะบะฐะทะฐะป ะพะฝ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ, ะฟะตัะตะฟะพะปะฝะตะฝะฝัะผ ะณะพัะดะพัััั, - ััะพ ะดัะผะฐะตัั ะพ ะผะพะตะน ััะตะฝะธัะต? ะฃ ะฝะตั ะพัะปะธัะฝัะต ัะฟะพัะพะฑะฝะพััะธ, ะฝะต ัะฐะบ ะปะธ?ยป ะ ัะดะพะผ ั ะผัะถัะธะฝะพะน ัะธะดะตะป ะะธัะฐะปะธะน, ะพัะบะธะฝัะฒัะธัั ะฝะฐ ัะฟะธะฝะบั ัะธะดะตะฝัั. ะะฝ ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ะฟะพะดัะผะฐะป ะพ ะฒัะฐัะต, ะบะพัะพััะน ะปะตัะธะป ะตะณะพ, ะธ ะฒัะฟะพะผะฝะธะป, ะบะฐะบะธะผะธ ัะฟะพะบะพะนะฝัะผะธ ะธ ัะพัะฝัะผะธ ะฑัะปะธ ะตั ะดะตะนััะฒะธั. ะะฐ ัะฐะผะพะผ ะดะตะปะต, ะผัะถัะธะฝะฐ ะฑัะป ะฟะพัะฐะถะตะฝ ะตั ัะฟะพัะพะฑะฝะพัััะผะธ. ยซะญัะพ ะณะพัะฟะพะถะฐ ะะพะปะบะพะฒะฐยป, - ะฒะดััะณ ะทะฐะณะพะฒะพัะธะป ะะตะฝะธั. ะะธัะฐะปะธะน ะพะฟัััะธะป ััะตะบะปะพ ะบะฐะบ ัะฐะท ะฒ ัะพั ะผะพะผะตะฝั, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฏะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดะพัะปะฐ ะบ ะผะฐัะธะฝะต. ะัะพะฒะธ ะคัะดะพัะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝัะปะธัั, ะธ ะพะฝ ัะบะฐะทะฐะป: ยซะฏะฝะฐ?ยป ะะตะฝะธั ะพะฑะตัะฝัะปัั ั ะฒะพะดะธัะตะปััะบะพะณะพ ะผะตััะฐ ะธ ัะฟัะพัะธะป: ยซะั ะทะฝะฐะตัะต ะตั?ยป ะคัะดะพั ะบะธะฒะฝัะป, ะตะณะพ ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะทะฐะฑะปะตััะตะป ะพั ะปัะฑะพะฟััััะฒะฐ. ยซะะฝะฐ ะฑัะปะฐ ัััะดะตะฝัะบะพะน ะฝะฐ ะณะพะด ะผะปะฐะดัะต ะฒ ะผะพัะผ ัะฝะธะฒะตััะธัะตัะตยป. ะะธัะฐะปะธั ััะฐะปะพ ะปัะฑะพะฟััะฝะพ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝ ััะปััะฐะป ััะพ. ะะฝะฐัะธั, ััะฐ ะดะตะฒััะบะฐ ะฝะต ัะพะปัะบะพ ัะฟะฐัะปะฐ ะตะณะพ ะฟัะพัะปะพะน ะฝะพััั, ะฝะพ ะธ ะทะฐะปะตัะธะปะฐ ะตะณะพ ัะฐะฝั? ยซะญัะพ ััะดัะฑะฐ?ยป - ะฒะพัะบะปะธะบะฝัะป ะะตะฝะธั. ะัะตะปะตะฝะฝะฐั ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั ัะตัะธะปะฐ ะดะฐัั ะตะณะพ ะฑะพััั ัะฐะฝั ะฝะฐ ะปัะฑะพะฒั? ยซะะฐะบะพะณะพ ััััะฐ ัั ะฝะตัััั?ยป - ัะฟัะพัะธะป ะคัะดะพั, ะฝะฐั ะผััะธะฒัะธัั, ะฟะตัะตะฒะพะดั ะฒะทะณะปัะด ั ะพะดะฝะพะณะพ ะผัะถัะธะฝั ะฝะฐ ะดััะณะพะณะพ. ...... ะงัะพ ะฑัะดะตั ะดะฐะปััะต? ะะพะปะธัะตััะฒะพ ะณะปะฐะฒ ะทะดะตัั ะพะณัะฐะฝะธัะตะฝะพ, ะฝะฐะถะผะธัะต ะฝะฐ ะบะฝะพะฟะบั ะฝะธะถะต, ััะพะฑั ัััะฐะฝะพะฒะธัั ะฟัะธะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต ะธ ะฟัะพะดะพะปะถะธัั ััะตะฝะธะต ะฑะพะปะตะต ะทะฐั ะฒะฐััะฒะฐััะธั ะณะปะฐะฒ! (ะั ะฑัะดะตัะต ะฐะฒัะพะผะฐัะธัะตัะบะธ ะฟะตัะตะฝะฐะฟัะฐะฒะปะตะฝั ะฝะฐ ะบะฝะธะณั, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพัะบัะพะตัะต ะฟัะธะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Hello reading | 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/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195263050476 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466044180_1779432665927248_1001558972601753771_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4LI7rC753csQ7kNvgEMorW5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjsGx4JH5qucJVMRezwrbsy&oh=00_AYAnnFTRqr6Nm4_6D9K7sXFqzhXR-04zP-ZLgDuLEI6nPQ&oe=674DA218 | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 18:49 | active | 1930 | 0 | Ease into financial planning | A thriving practice is only as strong as its financial planning. Learn how Kelley Stevens set herself up for success. | LEARN_MORE | https://www.simplepractice.com/resource/how-to-sta | SimplePractice | https://www.facebook.com/simplepractice/ | 26,926 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | simplepractice.com | DCO | {{product.description}} | https://www.simplepractice.com/resource/how-to-start-a-private-practice/financial-planning/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468049457_435835689366915_6378920454097819810_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MRlXb_cy5NwQ7kNvgE1jn9P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A9HcJAXKiy4b_qU6fSGixMw&oh=00_AYBOktIn0w3u3i_VeEfExle6mO6x2fEnogSl8zX1kOdcfQ&oe=674D8974 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | SimplePractice | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 18:49 | active | 1930 | 0 | Stevia vs. Sugar? ๐ง | Stevia vs. sugar? Hereโs your answer. ๐ง | SHOP_NOW | https://www.waterdrop.com/collections/must-haves | Kelly Jensen | https://www.facebook.com/61553210913399/ | 28 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | waterdrop.com | DCO | Let's talk about it.. | https://www.waterdrop.com/collections/must-haves | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468527706_1120834692932517_6593455218638776227_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5n9bqODD-VsQ7kNvgFf7itQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUw6duP76TqZQWRU_qqnHcC&oh=00_AYAFoQPSKyzRV18y42bTTv17hNOPL29f4bAXw3Kb0MSfxg&oe=674DA3FE | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Kelly Jensen | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 18:50 | active | 1930 | 0 |
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Kelly | MESSAGE_PAGE | Kelly Kimbesrs Olsen | https://www.facebook.com/61569353784700/ | 10 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Send Message | 0 | CAROUSEL | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468430256_9500171906664305_6795466882488088718_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6XeEefCSWpEQ7kNvgFXTTya&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ArEFfo3P43gCVJi1IDZ2InE&oh=00_AYCd7S9tACx6VGKwODhBCXHY0qz8Ftrpq3CFrdOSi_ZRQg&oe=674DA719 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Kelly Kimbesrs Olsen | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:10 | active | 1931 | 0 |
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โค๏ธ๐What happens next๐Click Here to read on๐ | "Goodnight baby." My best friend Bryson fixed the soft cover over me. But I didn't expect the night came this way. "Bryson, what are you doing here?" I whispered and opened my sleepy eyes, looking into his startling green eyes that shone with love. I must be dreaming. Why was he staring at me with so much love? Bryson takes a step forward, his eyes darkening with lust when they fall to my parted mouth. I let out a gasp of air from the intensity of the fire of desire swirling in his foresty gaze. His eyes cause my body to burn with heat and I bit my bottom mouth to stop myself from moaning out loud. I'm like a flickering match under the weight of his stare and when he spoke in a husky tone next, I burn alive. "Em, I want you," He groaned, his eyes darkening until they swirled with red. His wolf was aroused too. It wasn't only him. "I've wanted you for so long. I want you Em. I want you so badly it hurts." His hands reach up and he bunches his shirt in his hand. Where his heart beat. "I want you and I'm going to claim you. I'm claiming you as mine Em. You're mine, I knew it. You're my luna- - I gasped, my upper half snapping up in a sitting position. I gripped the covers around my body as I try to relax my pounding heart. Great Em, now you're dreaming of your best friend claiming you.... You can't be any more obsessed than this. Pang. My brows furrowed. Pang. Another pang cracks the silence in the room. The only person or should I say wolf who would do this was none other than my best friend. The boy I just dreamt about. "Now can you tell me why you're here so late?" I asked, trying to move his attention away from me. "I came here for you." "What?" I breathed out, my heart rate kicking up a notch. Bryson voiced. "I can't sleep. I desired to see you-" That word. Desire.... He clears his throat and lifts his hand in his hair where he scratches behind his nape. "I want you to join me for a run Em." I looked around. "It' really not a good idea to be here with you, especially since in a few days there's going to be your ceremony." And he'll be mated... "Let's go to our special place." He murmured. | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14662&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 1,562 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | wwwedb.com | DCO | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14662&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/t39.35426-6/462593743_554049917280327_1091688798459121906_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bcIRCq8MNq8Q7kNvgFOy4je&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AxQeQ-4oDNFqeJDW-e_QrH4&oh=00_AYA5yJ3I5GEgiNkwNQUGUWIXQy8vRKhxv34zb29PFQjFYA&oe=674DA48D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 19:07 | active | 1931 | 0 |
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๐Attention! Do not read in public๏ผ๐ | One Neah โWhere the heck is she?โ I hear the Beta scream. I already knew Beta Kyle was talking about me, the only servant of the house. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I donโt make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times and only speak when spoken too, even if what they are doing to me hurts. โAlpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were asked.โ Beta Kyle spits at me I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. I resisted, he was stronger than me and I didnโt need locking up for another week with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. โWe are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!โ I donโt answer, I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. I keep my eyes low so that I didnโt have to look at his face. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. Words exchanged between the other pack members when I was in the room. From what I gathered, he was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didnโt mess around and he had the largest pack. โHe is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!โ Beta Kyle continues. Yet he doesnโt tell me why. We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the but as he shoves me towards the office. โUseless Wolf.โ He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned eighteen, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of drink. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that donโt quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. โIs this the way you greet all Alphaโs?โ His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. โIโm sorry.โ I whisper, getting to my feet. โIโฆI thought I was alone.โ I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. He doesnโt introduce himself either, why should he? โCome forward.โ He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to finish me. I step around the corner, doing as Iโm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. โYou smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?โ I nod, though I couldnโt tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. โI would prefer it if you spoke to me.โ He growls, โIโm not in the mood to play games.โ โYes.โ I whisper. I couldnโt help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? โWhy do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.โ โIโฆ..โ I hated the question. โSpit it out, I havenโt got all day!โ He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldnโt scent him. I knew why I hadnโt been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is laugh and mock me. โYou should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Itโs rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?โ His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. โMy Wolf abilities were bound,โ I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasnโt interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, โWhy would someone do that?โ If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. โIt was a punishment.โ I whisper. It wasnโt far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. Thereโs a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldnโt tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me โNeah, what the heck are you doing in my office?โ He turns to the crimson eyed man. โI am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.โ Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. โI wouldnโt do that if I were you.โ Alpha Daneโs voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. โNeah,โ My name rolls off of his tongue, โwas kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.โ What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. โGo and get Beta Kyle.โ Alpha Trey seethes. โTell him that our guest is here.โ I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. โBeta Kyle,โ I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. โAlpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.โ He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. โYouโre lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.โ Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesnโt speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesnโt last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. โNeah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.โ I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should haveโฆ. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. โNeah is your sister, correct?โ Alpha Dane questions my brother. โShe is.โ Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. โWhy do you treat her like vermin?โ Straight to the point, my brother wouldnโt like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didnโt know what to do. I couldnโt move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. โNeah was responsible for our parents' death.โ Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. โResponsible how?โ Alpha Daneโs voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. โShe served them Wolfsbane.โ Two Neah Donโt make a sound. Donโt make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesnโt squeeze. โYou poisoned your parents?โ โI was six.โ I splutter. โI just made them lemonade.โ My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. โHardly seems fair to blame a six year old.โ โA six year old should know the difference between plants.โ Alpha Trey snaps โSounds to me like she was set up.โ Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. โWe all know that standard wolfsbane doesnโt affect us anymore. We evolved from that thing centuries ago.โ What? What did he mean? Wolfsbane wasnโt lethal. It had been drummed into me since I could walk. โWhich only leaves Blood of Wolfsbane.โ Alpha Dane mutters โYou werenโt there, Alpha Dane.โ My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. โIt was Wolfsbane.โ He nods his head. โYou are right, I was not present.โ Great, now there was someone else who could remind me of something I had done by accident, years ago. โBut tell me this, where would a six year old get Blood of Wolfsbane?โ โI didnโt ask you here to talk about my slave!โ Alpha Trey spits. โOr what happened to my parents.โ Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alphaโs he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alphaโs, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. โYouโre right and now I have a few things to mull over.โ โI thought we agreed.โ My brother exclaims โNothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.โ The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. โWhat the heck did you say to him?โ My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. โN..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.โ โDid you tell him?โ Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. โWELL?โ My brother yells when I donโt immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. โBut I didnโt say it was you.โ I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. If they werenโt Wolves, they probably wouldnโt have heard me. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. โIf you have ruined this, you wonโt see daylight again.โ He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. โPleaseโฆ.โ I beg. โHe was an AlphaโฆIโฆ I had to answer him.โ My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull.. โAlpha Dane, I thought you had left.โ Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. โI said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?โ โAs I said,โ my brother holds his ground, โShe is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves.โ โYou should keep your nose out of other packs' business!โ Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. โIf I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?โ โWe donโtโฆ.โ โReally?โ He cocks a brow, โYou really expect me to believe that you would have just let her sleep? I have already stopped you from hitting her once. " His eyes roam over me. "She is underfed, bags hover under her tired blue eyes. For a sister of an Alpha, she is certainly not treated like one. Regardless of what she allegedly did when she was a pup.โ โShe did do it!โ Alpha Trey seethes โAnd she has nothing to do with our deal.โ โThatโs for me to decide.โ His crimson eyes flicker around the hallway. โWhere is your mate? I would be interested to know how she feels about this.โ I close my eyes, silently begging my brother not to call his Luna. Luna Cassandra is worse than Beta Kyle and Alpha Trey together. โOn second thoughts, why bother her. Iโm certain she is just as vile as you.โ He sneers I peer through slits to see his crimson eyes on me. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. โI have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey.โ Alpha Dane is smirking at my brother โWe have already agreed on terms.โ โWell, Iโm adding one. And if you donโt agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you donโt want that.โ โI take it that your new terms have something to do with her?โ Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. โYou would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal.โ Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? โDeal.โ Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesnโt take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. โI will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow.โ He reaches a hand out and cups my face, โEnsure you have everything packed.โ He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. โIf I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about.โ He struts out, slamming the door behind him. โGet out of my sight!โ My brother snaps at me. Hurrying away, I make my way up the stairs and into my tiny bedroom. It was practically empty, the only things I had were a few changes of clothes. It would take me less than a minute to pack By morning, I hadnโt slept. Alpha Danes questions were on repeat and why was I so interesting to a Wolf like him. There was a reason he had the biggest pack. They were known for their fighting abilities, thatโs why my brother wanted to link Moonshine with Alpha Danes pack, but where did I fit in to all this? And what o earth is Blood of Wolfsbane? Three Dane โTenth brideโs the charm.โ Jenson mocks as the driver pulls up in front of Moonshines packhouse. โShut up!โ Eric snaps at him โBoth of you shut your mouths. Before you say something you regret!โ โHe will never learn.โ My wolf, Aero muses. The driver pulls open the door. โJust give me a second, I need to speak to my men.โ The door closes and neither one of them speaks. โShe isnโt like the others. Donโt speak to her, donโt look at her. And you Jenson, keep your hands to yourself or you might just lose them this time.โ I was more rattled than usual. Neah was different to the previous selected mates. I didnโt know what it was or whether it was because I was used to confident women, but there was something about her. And Aero appeared to like her too, more than any of the others. I had to have her. โI mean it!โ I snap at Jenson's smug face, โBeing my brother wonโt change my mind!โ He runs his fingers over his lips as though he was zipping them shut. They follow me from the car. Standing in front of the old packhouse, all three of us stare up at it. Because until a month ago, I knew nothing about them and even after my visit, all I had learned was the Alpha is a beast. My knuckles hammer on the door. Itโs barely open an inch when I force myself through making his Beta stumble back. I spot her straight away, hiding herself behind a corner. โAre you ready?โ I call out. โIf you just want toโฆ..โ Beta Kyle starts. โI was not talking to you. I was speaking to Neah.โ The expression on Beta Kyleโs face was a picture. His jaw hung open and his eyes are wide. He clearly had never been told what to do, even by his Alpha. Neah steps out from her hiding spot, clutching a barely full carrier bag. She drags her teeth across her bottom lip and nods her head. โWhere are the rest of your things? I told you everything needs to be packedโ โThatโs all she has.โ Trey snorts as he makes his appearance. โThatโs it?โ I stare at him. โThatโs all her belongings? Sheโs what, in her early twenties and thatโs all she has?โ โWhat more does she need?!โ His Beta sneers. โKill him, let me rip out his throat and he will regret the day he crossed us.โ โWhat are you waiting for?โ I hear a horrible shrill voice that seems to vibrate through the floors. Looking away from the Beta, I see a woman holding on to a statue of herself that sat at the bottom of the stairs. Her blonde hair hung in waves around her face as her green eyes studied me and she sways her hips as she moves to Trey. I noticed Neahโs reaction yesterday. When I asked Trey where his mate was. Her whole body had tensed up in fear. She was afraid of this woman and I wanted to know why. โTake her Alpha Dane. Iโm sure she will be as useful a slave to you as she is to us.โ Her shrill voice goes straight through me. โLook at the silly girl, sheโs going to pass out.โ The blonde bimbo laughs โYou donโt get to talk about her like that anymore.โ I glare at the blonde, โShe is not your toy. She is not your slave and I suggest that you, Alpha Trey keep your wife in check. There is only so much disobedience that I will tolerate.โ โDISOBEDIENCE!โ The woman screeches just as Neahโs hip hits the floor. โHow dare you! If anyone is disobedient, itโs that rat in the corner.โ โWho the heck is she calling a rat?โ Aero growls โYou should make yourself familiar with our agreement.โ I snap. โIt seems your mate has not told you everything.โ Waving Eric forward, he pulls a thick wad of paper from the folder under his arm. The contract that I have drawn up. โAll that for your help?โ His mateโs eyes are wide โI donโt do half-witted contracts.โ Taking the contract from Eric, I shove it against Treyโs chest โShall we go to the office?โ Trey leads the way with his mate clinging on to him and his Beta hurrying behind. My men follow them while I stay behind to check on my new mate. โYou are more than welcome to join us, after all, you are involved in this deal. Or my car is outfront, you can take your stuff and wait there for me.โ โAre those my only options?โ she whispers, keeping her eyes low โFor now. Personally, I think you should sit in with us. It will give me great pleasure in pissing off that mate of your brothers.โ She keeps her blue eyes low as she continues to clutch that bag of hers. This close to her, I could really see how ill she looked. Even her heart beat is slow, like itโs fighting to hang on to life. โSo what will it be?โ โIโฆ.โ Her head rotates between the front door and the direction of the office. โIโฆ.. The office I guess.โ โGood choice.โ I hold out a hand for her but she doesnโt take it. Pushing herself up to her feet. She wobbles a little, but steadies herself. Walking a few steps behind her, I see the evil glares she receives from Trey and the other two idiots as she enters the office.. โTake a seat.โ I whisper as I walk past her. My hand grazes her lower back and she immediately tenses up. She stands, frozen to the spot. Only her eyes dart about when she shakes her head. โSit!โ I say it a little louder โShe doesnโt have that privilege here!โ The blonde snaps, with her lips curved up in amusement โSitting is not a privilege.โ I growl, wondering what else they were forcing her to do. I couldnโt see any bruises on her arms or legs, a good sign, I hoped. โIt better be!โ Aero paces in my head. He wanted her out of this place as much as I did. The blonde physically recoils in her seat. Her mouth falls wide open, shocked that I had said something. โAnd I suggest,โ I look at Trey, โYou tell your mate to keep her mouth shut. Or I can shut it for her.โ โAlpha Dane, you are in my homeโฆ..โ โAnd you want my help, correct?โ The three of them were fuming. No one liked being told what to do in their own home, yet they were doing just that to Neah. I point to the empty chair between Jenson and Eric and she finally sits down. โLetโs just get this done.โ Trey snaps, โThe sooner she is gone, the happier I can be.โ โYou should read the contract.โ I muse โI agreed that you could take her as part of our deal.โ โIdiot!โ Eric murmurs. He knew as well as I did that contracts should be read before they are signed They sign without reading and practically throw the contract back at me. โDone.โ Trey mutters โGood, you can get her out of my house.โ Treyโs mate screeches. If I had it my way, I would just take Neah, then I wouldnโt have to put up with the twidles, but this way, they canโt have her back. Even if they begged. A contract was a contract and it was impossible for them to get out of. Getting to my feet, I hold a hand out to Neah, โCome, we are leaving this rat hole before I lose my temper.โ Her warm fingers slip into my hand as she rises to her feet. Her other hand clutches the bag to her chest as she walks with me to the front door. She doesnโt even look back to say goodbye and that confirmed everything I needed to know. She hated them as much as they hated her. She pauses at the open front door, her hand falling from mine. Her blue eyes are wide as she stares at the limo. โCome.โ I instruct Eric and Jenson are standing behind her, watching her curiously. โIs she okay?โ Eric links me. โNeah?โ I step in front of her and she doesnโt move. She seems to be staring right through me. โItโs time to go.โ โOkay.โ Her lips barely move She takes a step forward, almost as if she is in slow motion. Her hands grip the door frame, her knuckles turn white as her heartbeat increases. Her lips part a little and her hand falls from the door frame just as her eyes roll to the back of her head. โIโve got you.โ I mutter, catching her just before she hits the floor. Her entire body tenses up as I lift her and carry her to the car. She was so weak and was even lighter than I expected. She probably didnโt weigh much more than a small child. Jenson and Eric get in the car first. Jenson cocks his eyebrow at me and has a smirk plastered to his face as I slide in with Neah on my lap. โKeep your thoughts to yourself, Jenson!โ I hold her close, listening to her breathe and her heart as it slowed. Letting my fingers comb through her dark hair as she becomes a little more with it. Suddenly, she sits up right, moving away from me and trying to make herself as small as possible. Deciding not to force her to do anything, I keep my attention on my Beta and my brother, talking about pack stuff while casting a glance over to her every so often to make sure she was alright. โCome.โ I mutter as the limo comes to a stop. I donโt wait for the driver and get out myself, holding a hand out for her. โIโm fine.โ She speaks at last while glancing at the others and shuffles herself forward to the open door. She stares up at my home, gasping a little. It was easily three times the size of her previous home and I hoped that she would be happy here. That I could provide her with a life that was better than her last. โLet me give you a tour.โ I suggest as she continues to clutch that carrier bag to her chest. She follows me in, not speaking a word. I had no idea if she was listening to what I was saying or not โThe omegas swap out on a rotational basis. Good for the youngsters to learn some responsibilities before they get proper jobs.โ I tell her while showing her the dining hall with a table long enough to fit twenty people around. We move through to the kitchen. Where I point out a board on the wall. โIf there is anything you need, you just add it to the board and it will be ordered in.โ Her brow furrows and still she says nothing. Picking up a pen, I smile. Maybe she felt intimidated by me. โSo tell me, what do you need because there is no way you are living under my roof with just the things that are in that bag.โ Her dazzling blue eyes dart around the room โWell?โ I ask. โI donโt need anything.โ She whispers Sighing, I start scribbling things down. Underwear, jeans, workout clothes, dresses, shoes, anything I can think of that will cover her for a few days. Holding the pen between my teeth, I grab her around the waist. My thumbs meet just above her belly button and my fingers touch her spine. She was so thin, how was she even alive? Four Dane She looked like a deer caught in headlights as I write her size down. She was tinier than I thought. Skin and bone. If I had moved my hands up any higher, I would have felt every rib sticking out. It sickened me, she should be strong, powerful, she had Alpha blood running through her veins. I also saw how she scrunched her face up when I measured her. It wasnโt fear, it was pain. She was hiding something underneath the baggy maids dress. โI know you want to say something, so just say it. Iโm not interested in the crap Trey drummed into you. You donโt have to wait until someone asks you a question. You are free to say what you want. Are you injured?" "No." She was lying, I could feel it. She shakes her head as if it would confirm her answer and a lock of her black hair falls from the band that was supposed to be holding it back. Neah was going to be a tough girl to crack. A life of being starved had made her quite protective over herself. I will make Trey pay for what he has done to her. โYou have to say something, Neah. I cannot read your mind. When I mark you, at least I will know what you are feeling.โ โMark me?โ I didnโt think her eyes could get any wider. โYes, I will mark you.โ She was completely and utterly shocked by the idea. Her pink lips part a little as she continues to stare at me. I thought she knew. I thought that was why she came so willingly. My Beta had kept asking me if I was certain I wanted her as my bride. There was no doubt about it, she had a strange scent but something was luring me to her. I couldnโt take my eyes off of her when I first saw her. My Wolf Aero was going mad for her too. Though he hadnโt said a word about her. Annoyed with me for not taking her home with us yesterday. โYouโฆ.You brought me so that you could mark me.โ She takes a step back, walking into the kitchen island. She winces a little and quickly covers up her pain, relaxing her face.. โIf Trey had bothered reading the contract, he would have discovered that you are to be my bride, not a slave. He would also have read that if he or his ridiculously silly mate tried doing anything to you going forward, that pack would become mine, or rather, yours. I never bought you, Neah, you were always destined to be mine.โ โIโm a murderer.โ She gasps. โWhy would someone like you want me for a bride?โ โBloodโ Aero growls interrupting my thoughts. I glance down at her baggy dress. A blood stain had appeared right where I had my hands wrapped around her. โWhatโs that? Are you injured?โ I demand, I had barely touched her. She covers the stain with her hand. โItโs nothing. Itโs just a cut that I keep knocking and it opens up again. I forget itโs there.โ Forget? How could she forget a wound? โWhy isnโt she healing?โ I feel Aeroโs panic. โSheโs been with us less than two hours and already she has some form of injury.โ His need to protect her was strong. It hadnโt occurred to me that her lack of abilities included not being able to heal. I would have to find someone who could reverse the binding and soon. โShow me!โ โItโs fine.โ She mumbles I was already so sick of hearing that phrase. โItโs not optional.โ I mutter. โIf you wonโt show me, I will have to find a way to look, myself.โ Her heart skips a beat. She looks around the kitchen. โCan.... can we go somewhere more private?โ โPrivate?โ I didnโt really do privacy. What Wolf did?! She bobs her head but still keeps her focus slightly off of me. Almost afraid to look me directly in the eyes. โOffice,โ Aero mutters. โI was just going to suggest that!โ I snap back at my Wolf. I feel his eyes roll as he retreats to some dark corner of my mind. โThis way.โ I gesture to the door. Neah waits for me and follows closely behind. The scent of blood steadily grew stronger, it was more than just a cut. I already knew that. In the office, I hit the remote and the blinds start to drop, blocking out the sunlight. Neah hesitates and slowly begins to unfasten the buttons of the dress but only where the large blood stain was. Keeping everything else covered from me. She pulls the dress to one side. The wound was about four inches long and already fairly infected. โSee, itโs fine.โ she whispers. โYou need to stop saying that.โ She closes her mouth and starts to fasten the buttons. โNo,โ I grabbed her hands, I had caught sight of another bruise. โLet me see the rest of them.โ It wasnโt optional. She gasps as my fingers rip apart the rest of the buttons. Her sports bra had seen better days, just the same as her underwear. But it was the bruising I was most concerned about. Bruise upon bruise, scars that had come from whips. Her hip bones and ribs stuck out too. Turning her around, and pulling the dress from her, I find that her back is just the same. Yet interestingly, there was nothing above her chest and nothing below her thighs. Her arms were completely bare of wounds too. There was only one reason why someone would do that. To either hide what they were doing to someone, or to keep up appearances. They didnโt want guests to see. More importantly, they didnโt want me to see, considering the meeting was arranged over a month ago. She fumbles with the dress, pulling it tightly around her thin frame. โYou need to see a doctor.โ โItโs โฆ..โ she trails off when she sees the anger on my face. โIt always heals, eventually.โ โDid Trey do this?โ I mutter with my teeth gritted and gesture to her body She lowers her blue eyes. โCassandra?โ She still doesnโt answer me. โThat prick that follows Trey around? All three of them?โ She pulls her dress tighter around her and silently nods. She brings her hand up to her face, brushing her cheek, wiping away an escaped tear. โAnyone else?โ โThe pack.โ She whispers. โIโm going to kill them all.โ Aero growls. He will have to get in line, โBecause of what you allegedly did to your parents.โ She nods. โI donโt believe you were responsible.โ She tilts her head up towards me, her brow knits together as her eyes finally find mine. โBecause of Blood of Wolfsbane?" Five Neah โIโฆI donโt know what Blood of Wolfsbane is?โ I whisper He frowns at me. โYour brother said you knew the difference between plants.โ โIโฆโ I didnโt have an answer. I couldnโt remember, not fully. โBlood of Wolfsbane is Wolfsbane fed by our blood. The leaves will have a red hue to them. I canโt imagine a child would know what it is because it is not freely grown. Your brotherโs story doesnโt add up.โ โOh.โ โI wonโt stop until I find out who did this, Neah.โ His crimson eyes narrow. โI will make them pay for the suffering you have endured.โ He sits on the edge of his desk, studying me. โRight now, you do need to see someone about the infection.โ I kept my mouth closed, I was still trying to process his news of me being set up. Why had my brother never considered it? โCome, I will show you our bedroom. You can shower before we see the pack doctor.โ Frozen to the spot, I donโt move. Did he just say โour bedroom,โ? As in, we are sharing a bedroom? I guess he thinks he can mke love with me whenever he wants if Iโm his contract bride. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. Glancing up, I see him watching me. He is stood at the open door, waiting for me. Ensuring my dress has me covered, I step out into the hallway. No one was around and the hallways were quiet. As we moved, Alpha Dane would tell me what each room was, but he seemed more focussed on getting me to the bedroom. His bedroom is huge, with massive windows, just like the rest of the house. The bed sat pressed up against the wall. All around it, thin drapes hung from the ceiling, but they were tied back at each bed post. What surprised me the most was that the bath and the shower were in the same room. Only the toilet was in a small room to the side of the shower. No privacy, whatsoever. Though, he didnโt seem to care about that. He makes me jump when I feel his warm breath on my skin. โYou donโt need to be afraid.โ I may not be able to smell him, but he would be able to scent the changes in my emotions. Crossing the room, he pulls open the glass door to the shower and turns it on. The moment he closes the door, the steam of the shower quickly fogs up the glass. And still, I find myself afraid. He gave me no clue as to what he was expecting from me. โHey,โ His rough fingers tip my face up. โItโs just you and me and for now, I will let you shower in peace.โ Walking away, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and messes around with it before placing it on the bedside table. โThe alarm is set for ten minutes. I will come back then. I will bring you something to wear so just stay in the towel. Understand?โ He stares at me, waiting for an answer and I just nod. A ten minute shower. I was lucky if I got a minute shower back home and the water was always cold. He moves to the door and with his hand resting on the door knob he looks back over his shoulder at me. โI really wish you would talk more, Neah.โ Alpha Dane leaves me in peace and I make a mad dash for the shower as if Iโm in some kind of fantasy land and this was all a dream. Maybe it was, maybe I was about to wake up in the basement of my home. The smells of the soaps and shampoos are divine as I lather them into myself. And my hair has never felt so clean. The wound on my stomach stung as the hot water hit it, but I didnโt care, it was worth it. Someone in the room clears their throat and I freeze. Thanking the steam for keeping me semi hidden. โNeah, are you done? The alarm went off five minutes ago.โ Alpha Daneโs voice seems louder in here. I had been so caught up in the freedom of a simple shower that I hadnโt even heard the alarm or the Alpha come back into the room. โComing.โ I mutter, turning off the water and pulling a towel around me to hide the hideousness underneath. Stepping out, I already see that my ripped dress, underwear and worn sandals had been removed from the floor. Alpha Dane sits on the end of the bed with what looked like folded clothes on his lap and a pair of trainers. โItโs not much, as we donโt have anyone with as small a waist as you.โ He smiles as he hands over the clothes. A matching navy blue sweatshirt and joggers. โYou will have to make do without the underwear for now. Should be here first thing tomorrow.โ He watches me with a cocked eyebrow as I pull the joggers on and tug the sweatshirt over my head before removing the towel. Maybe he was used to the women parading themselves in front of him, or throwing themselves at him because he has power, but I wasnโt like that. โLetโs go.โ He rises to his feet and this time, I follow him. Something told me that if I didnโt get this wound looked at, it would put him in a bad mood. The pack doctor was young, unlike the one back home who was old and afraid to let anyone take over from him. She smiles at us as we enter the pack hospital and rewraps her dark hair into a bun. โRaven, this is Neah.โ Alpha Dane introduces me with a grin. I keep my eyes low as I hear Raven say, โAlpha Dane, what seems to be the problem apart from the strange smell she has brought with her.โ It didnโt sound like a hurtful comment like I was used to, but more a comment of curiosity. โShe will tell you herself when she finds her tongue.โ โI have a wound.โ I whisper. โAnd you are not healing?โ Raven asks, confused โI donโt have my Wolf.โ I hated saying it. It was just a constant reminder that I did not fit in. โHer Wolf was bound when she was a kid.โ Alpha Dane tells her. โThatโs why her scent is strange. Her Wolf is there, locked away, waiting to be freed.โ My eyes flicker up only to find him staring straight back at me. I had always believed that my Wolf was gone. Not that she was trapped. Ravenโs dark eyes hover on me. โWow, okay.โ She grabs my hand. โThis way, letโs take a look at this wound of yours.โ She leads me into an empty room and asks me to lay on the bed and to show her my wound. Pulling up the sweatshirt, just enough for her to see the wound. Her eyes widen, a flicker of rage passing over them as she takes in the infected wound and the bruising that surrounds it. Her fingers carefully press around the wound. โHow long ago?โ โA few days.โ I mutter, though I wasnโt sure. Every beating blurred into another one. Any day that I wasnโt hit was a good day. Raven shakes her head. โThis is longer than a few days ago, the infection has had at least a week to develop.โ โNeah, you need to tell us the truth.โ Alpha Dane orders โI donโt know.โ โNEAH!โ His deep voice rumbles through me and I close my eyes, fearing his anger. Anger brought punishment, punishment brought pain. โI swear, I donโt know. The beatings, they happen so often that they just kind ofโฆ. Iโm never not bruised.โ Thereโs silence and I was too afraid to open my eyes. Alpha Trey had said it over and over, that if anyone found out, he would make my life a misery, more than it already was. I used to wonder who would ever find out that didnโt already know. Now here I was, sitting in another packโs hospital, revealing the truth. โHeal her!โ Alpha Dane shouts after what seems like forever. He storms from the room, pulling a phone out of his pocket. โYou will have to forgive my brother. His temper is short, especially when it comes to things like this.โ Raven mutters as she gently inspects my wound โYour brother?โ I whisper, opening my eyes โAh, I see he informed you. Iโm guessing he didnโt tell you that Jenson is our brother too?โ I shake my head, Iโm guessing Jenson was one of the men that came to my brother's house. She chuckles. โJenson is considered to be our brotherโs Gamma.โ โGamma?โ I had never heard of the term. โYep and Alpha Dane has a love/hate for me working here. He wants me to represent our family, but he knows this is what Iโm good at.โ She grabs a pot of cream from the cupboard. โNow this needs to be applied three times a day. It should clear up the infection, if it hasnโt changed in a couple of days, I will take another look. My brother is waiting for you out front.โ โThanks.โ I mumble, taking the pot of cream from her. I looked at the label, but couldnโt read it. I had never learned to read. She bobs her head at me as I hurry out to find Alpha Dane on his phone, snapping at someone. He hangs up as soon as he sees me and asks what Raven said. โCream, three times a day.โ I show him the pot and he takes it from me. โGood, come.โ He strides off and I have to run to keep up with him. I follow him through the house and into the office. โShow me.โ He orders, pulling the lid off the pot. It wasnโt going to be negotiable, not when he had used the same tone moments before he ripped my dress open earlier. Slowly lifting my sweatshirt, he crouches down in front of me and gently smothers the wound in the cold cream. โI donโt want you to lie to me, Neah. Not ever. If you canโt remember, that is what you need to tell me. Is that clear? I donโt want to have to guess what you mean.โ โOkay.โ I couldnโt say anything else, I was too focussed on the warmth of his hands. One presses against my lower back, holding me steady while the other gently rubs cream into my wound. The only touch I had received from another man was a beating. โStop holding your breath.โ He tells me, getting to his feet. โI am not going to hurt you.โ It seemed impossible to believe given my history. The act, the words coming from him, it just didnโt feel real. | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&u | Galaxy in the Story | https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ | 1,562 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | wwwedb.com | DCO | https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448791819_801329188771681_1239684611142513538_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vSUTMMgbq5gQ7kNvgGK1U8y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AmBbRry7VyxywAFKiEDeOPi&oh=00_AYCOBOqdw-tLYNvU9o_0Kd8vUkP02CfoocsR9H1aCegFYQ&oe=674D8CF3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Galaxy in the Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Pumpkin Pudding Parfait | Looking for a healthy treat this holiday season? #HinesVA Whole Health dietitian, Kelly Zimmerman, shares a Pumpkin Pudding Parfaits recipe for you to try! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10yUya7xxRY | MESSAGE_PAGE | Hines VA Hospital | https://www.facebook.com/HinesVAHospital/ | 11,063 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Send message | 0 | IMAGE | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468205613_2705681032975033_5560226196876635807_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bTwEtab8SpkQ7kNvgFpusOy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aqp354aatM6U3lqVcHoAU_8&oh=00_AYBPiM3kZ-WH_0v2E0GgKyOSdxj37RWho_S2GonVm0HHoA&oe=674D850C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Hines VA Hospital | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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I could be your secretary #secretary #companion #luxurygirlfriend #blackgirlmagic #model #paris | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/kelly_companion | kelly_companion | https://www.instagram.com/_u/kelly_companion | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | IMAGE | http://instagram.com/kelly_companion | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/464948124_499949426373225_5276551090087083340_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=dNCJFsGIkf8Q7kNvgFSHOGM&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYARNr75g09CX0XmVyzlQKEJxazQkVaCc4HF827gUzwffA&oe=674D7E07 | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | kelly_companion | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Kyle Kelly | OMG, I think I know what my kids are getting me for Christmas! Looking for the perfect holiday gift that says, โYouโre not the worldโs greatest dad, but hey, youโre still pretty okayโ? Meet the "World's Greatest Mug for Dad"โthe mug that understands parenting is tough, and coffee is non-negotiable. This hilariously humble tribute is the perfect way to honor Dadโs close enough greatness with a laugh. Whether he's burning the toast or forgetting your birthday, at least heโll sip his coffee in style! https://worldsgreatest.printful.me/ | SHOP_NOW | https://worldsgreatest.printful.me/ | Kyle Kelly | https://www.facebook.com/KKellyNY/ | 1,535 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop now | 0 | worldsgreatest.printful.me | IMAGE | https://worldsgreatest.printful.me/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468450227_593756493186271_7085039633925894320_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YbcU9giuxtYQ7kNvgE8FZzS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ArEFfo3P43gCVJi1IDZ2InE&oh=00_AYAZ76QCt_JXhoX7ftHHY3cwpXIGENlolDzdNpngdTnT0g&oe=674D878F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Kyle Kelly | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 19:59 | active | 1932 | 0 |
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๐Read the next chapters๐ | 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 grandmotherโEdith Gibsonโfigured 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 boulderโeach 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 objectsโit 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. Howeverโฆ "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 wereโฆ 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 sharesโthe 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 ZieglerโMadeline's motherโand 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 Skylarโpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towโshowed 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 upโher 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. โฆ 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 messโresignation 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 wasโa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceโkinda 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 homeโLydia 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, thoughtsโthey'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 shipโthe 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 Yagleโa 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 assistantโDaniel Harrisโwho 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 selfโunresponsive 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 flickeredโa 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 exceptionalโtangy 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 notebookโher 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. โฆ 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, butโฆ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toโher 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 guessโit 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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449730410_469240799085293_8357185738494594337_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B2-oMiw46xoQ7kNvgGz0tAF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOiwW-Ti-eFEKHKfUlz0E5T&oh=00_AYAoGF0x-7VQ2AzJ3mZgpt-BQUZ_A-NgAZDKUUREjXn5kw&oe=674DA113 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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๐Attention! Do not read in public๏ผ๐ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herโher 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 with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. 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 wonโt be a concubine. Sheโll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheโs 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 donโt really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeโs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheโs unlike any woman Iโve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." 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 mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheโs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's 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 estateโs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnโt seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "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 support Aurora and me." 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, sheโs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheโs above household squabbles and wouldnโt 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-" "Thatโs 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." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itโs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iโll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donโt you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. โWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.โ โOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?โ Carissa countered. 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 familyโs life respectable, and this was her reward. โEnough,โ Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. โIโve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonโt change anything.โ As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. โMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!โ Lulu, Carissaโs maid, said, wiping her tears. โDonโt call him that!โ Carissa gave her a stern look. โWe never consummated the marriage. Heโs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.โ โWhy the dowry list?โ Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. โSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.โ Lulu gasped. โLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?โ 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 โ 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 familyโs former glory seemed impossibleโat 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." Carissa'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 familyโs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted for me?' Soon, Carissa lifted her gaze, determination tightening her grip on the dowry list, โLulu, make preparations. Weโre going to see His Majesty tomorrow.โ Luluโs brow furrowed, as if knowing Carissa's purpose, โBut, my lady, I donโt think His Majesty will revoke his edictโโ Carissa shook her head, โNo, Lulu, Iโm not asking him to change the edict, but to request a new oneโan amicable divorce from Barrett.โ Luluโs eyes widened that instant, โA divorce! My lady, you want a divorce?โ Carissa nodded firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barrett 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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464975882_1204712524149205_7926569809786181278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HPJzOTzOUTwQ7kNvgExfhkY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYCJPc_14tPC18LB6t1fjSxr_sz_KRD_7Oki6d8hO4olRg&oe=674D8B43 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read more FREE chapters๐ | 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 wereโฆ 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..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&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/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&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/t39.35426-6/459755593_1105701324734040_9078936164206274743_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9rEzCTunqOQQ7kNvgFqb7oC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZv114rxFEapF0Q_pdrsvqQ&oh=00_AYCKv1fgM3JGAkHZCDqDz2Q25IXWtWQ9vEKd8pbB8JDNqQ&oe=674DACDD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-27 19:51 | active | 1932 | 0 | ๊ณ์ ์ฝ๊ธฐ๐ | ๊ทธ๋ ๋ CEO์ ์ ์ธ์ผ๋ก 3๋ ๋์ ์ง๋ด๋ฉฐ ๊ทธ์ ๊ฒฐํผํ๊ณ ์ถ์์ผ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ ๋นํ๊ณ ๊ดด๋ก์์ ๊ฒช์๋ค. ๋ค์ ๋ง๋ฌ์ ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฌด๋ฆ์ ๊ฟ๊ณ ์๋น๋ฅผ ๊ตฌํ๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๋ฌดํ์ ํ๊ฒ "์์ ์ ์กด์คํด์ฃผ์ธ์." ==== "๋ชป ์ฐธ๊ฒ ์ด?" ๋จ์๋ ์ผ์ฃผ์ผ ์ถ์ฅ์ ๋ค๋ ์ค๋ ๋์ ์ฐธ์๋ ์์ ์ ๋ชจ๋ ์์ ๋ถ๊ณ ์๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. "์ ๋ด์ผ ์ ๋ณด๋ฌ ๊ฐ์." ์ผ๋ฆฟํ ํต์ฆ์ ๋ชธ์ ๋๋ฆฐ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ. ์ญ์, ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์์๋๋ก ๋จ์๋ ์กฐ๊ธ๋ ์ ๊ฒฝ ์ฐ์ง ์์๋ค. "์ ๋ง์์ ๋๋ ์๋๊ฐ ๋์ค๋ฉด ๋ฐ๋ก ๋์ํ๋ ค๊ณ ์." ํ์ธํฌ์ ์ ๊ฐ์ ์ธ์ธํ ๋ฏธ์๊ฐ ๋ฒ์ก๋ค. "๊ฒฐํผํ ์๊ฐ์ด๋ ๋ง์ด์ผ?" ๋จ์๊ฐ ์ผ์ด๋ถ์ ๋ฏ ์์ ์์ง์ด์ง ์์๊ณ ์ด๋์ด ๋๋์๊ฐ ์์ ์ ํ์ ๊ฐํ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๋ซ์ด์ง๊ฒ ๋ด๋ ค๋ค๋ดค๋ค. ๊น์ด๋ฅผ ์ ์ ์๋ ๊ทธ ๋๋์์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋น์ฅ์ด๋ผ๊ณ ๋ง๋ ค๋ค์ด ๊ฐ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋จผ์ ์์ ์ ํผํ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์ฐ๋ฌผ์ญ๋ฌผ ์ ์ ์ด์๋ค. "์ ์ด์ 27์ด์์. ๋ง๋ฅ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆด ์๋ฐ์ ์์ผ๋๊น์..." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ์์ ์ ๊ฐ์ ๋ฒ์ง ๋์๋ฅผ ๋ฏธ์ฒ ๋ฐ๊ฒฌํ์ง ๋ชปํ๋ค. ๋จ์๋ ์นจ๋ ๊ฐ์ฅ์๋ฆฌ์ ๊ฑธํฐ์์ ๋ด๋ฐฐ์ ๋ถ์ ๋ถ์๋ค. ๊ฒ์์ ์ ์ฅ ๋ฐ์ง๋ ์ฌ์ ํ ํ ์ก์ ๋ฐ ์์ด ์ ๋ค๋ ค์ ธ ์์๊ณ , ๊ฒ์์ ์ ์ธ ๋ ๋จ์ถ 3๊ฐ๊ฐ ํ๋ ค์ ธ ์์ด ๋จ์์ ์น์ํ๊ณ ๋ ๋งคํน์ ์ธ ๋งค๋ ฅ์ ๊ทน๋ํํ๋ค. ๋จ์์ ์๋์ ์ํํ๊ฒ ๋งค๋ฌ๋ ค ์๋ ๋ด๋ฐฐ๋ฅผ ๋ฌด์ฌ์ฝ ์ณ๋ค๋ณธ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ทธ์ ์๊ฐ๋ฝ์ ๋ผ์์ ธ ์๋ ์ฝํผ๋ฐ์ง์ ์์ ์ ๊ณ ์ ํ๋ค. ๊ทธ ๋ฐ์ง๋ ์ค๋๋ฐ๋ผ ๋์ฑ ๋์ด ๋ถ์ จ๊ณ , ์ค๋์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ฅผ ๋น์๊ณ ์๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. 3๋ ์ , ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ์์ ๋น์ ์ ๋ถ์ผ๋ก ๊ฐ์จ ๊ทธ๋ฃน์ ์ ์ฌํ๋ค. ์ผ๋ง ํ, ์์ฌ์ธ ๊ฐ์งํ๊ณผ ํจ๊ป ์ถ์ฅ์ ๋ ๋์ผ ํ๋ ์๋ฌด๋ฅผ ์ํํด์ผ ํ๊ณ , ๊ทธ ํ ๊ทธ๋ค์ ๋งค์ฐ ์น๋ฐํด์ก๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ฐํญํ์ง ์์๋ค. ์๊ณ ๋จ๊ฑฐ์ด ๋ฐค์ ๋ณด๋ธ ํ, ํ ๊ฐ์ง ์ผ์ด ๋ค๋ฅธ ์ผ๋ก ์ด์ด์ก๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ๋ ์ฌ๋์ 3๋ ์ด๋ผ๋ ์๊ฐ ๋์ ๋น๋ฐ์ค๋ฌ์ด ๋ง๋จ์. ๊ฐ์ก๊ณ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ฎ์๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋น์์๊ณ , ๋ฐค์๋ ๊ทธ์ ๋ฐฐ๋ ํํธ๋์๋ค. ๋ง์ฝ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฐค, ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์ด๋ฆฌ์์ ์ ํ๋ง ํ์ง ์์๋ค๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ฌ์ ํ ์์ง ๋ญ๋งํ๊ณ ์์ ๋ง์ ๋ฐฑ๋ง ํ ์์๋ฅผ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆฌ๋ ์๋ ์์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ์ผ๋ง ์์ง ์์ผ๋ฉด ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ฒฐํผ์ ํ๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฒ์ด๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด ๊ด๊ณ๋ฅผ ๋ ์ด์ ์ด์ด๊ฐ๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์์๋ค. ํ๋ณตํ ๊ฒฐํผ ์ํ์ ๋ผ์ด๋๋ ์ 3์๊ฐ ๋๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์์์ ๋ฟ๋๋ฌ, ์ฌ๋๋ค์ ์๊ฐ๋ฝ์ง์ ๋ฐ๋ ์ ๋ถ๋ ๋๋์ฑ ์ซ์๋ค. ๋ ์ด์ ์ด์ด๊ฐ ๊ด๊ณ๊ฐ ์๋๋ผ๊ณ ํ๋จํ์ผ๋, ๊ทธ๋ ์์ผ๋ก ์ง์ ์ด ๊ด๊ณ๋ฅผ ๋์ด ๋ด์ผ๋ง ํ๋ค. ์๋ฌด ์ธ๋ชจ ์๋ ์ฌ๋์ฒ๋ผ ๋น์ฐธํ๊ฒ ๋ฒ๋ ค์ง๋ ๊ฒ๋ณด๋ค ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ๋จผ์ ๋ ๋๋ ๊ฒ์ด ๋ ๋์ ๊ฑด ์ฌ์ค์ด๋. ์์ ์ ๊ฑฐ๋์ด๋ค์ธ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ๋ฐฉ์ ์ฑ๊ธฐ๊ณ ๋ฏธ๋ฆฌ ์ค๋นํ ์ฌ๋ฒ ์ท์ผ๋ก ๊ฐ์์ ์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ๊ณผ ๋ง๋ ๋๋ง๋ค ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฌ๋ถ์ ์ท์ ์ค๋นํ๊ณค ํ๋ค. ๊ฐ๋ฐฉ์ ์์ ๋ป์ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์ฌ๋ถ์ ์ท์ ๊บผ๋ด๊ธฐ๋ ์ ์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์๋ชฉ์ ์ธ๊ฒ ์์ผ์ก์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ๋น ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋ฐ๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๊ผ๋ค. ""๋ด์ผ ๋ง์ ์ทจ์ํด."" ๊ทธ๊ฐ ์ ๋ฐ์ผ๋ก ๊บผ๋ธ ๊ฑด ๋ถํ์ด ์๋๋ผ ๋ช ๋ น์ด์๋ค. ์๋ฌด ํ๋ ๋จ์ง ์์ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์์ ๊ฝ ๋ถ์ก๊ณ ์ง๋ 3๋ ๋์ ํ ๋ง ์ค ๊ฐ์ฅ ์ฉ๊ธฐ ์๋ ๋ง์ ๋ด๋ฑ์๋ค. "๊ฒฐํผ... ์ทจ์ํ ๊ฑด๊ฐ์?" ๊ฐ์งํ๋ง ํ๋ฝํ๋ค๋ฉด, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ํ์ ๊ทธ์ ๊ณ์ ๋จธ๋ฌผ๊ณ ์ถ์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ด ์๋ง ์๋ค๋ฉด ์ผ๋ง๋ ํ๋ณตํ ๊น. ๋จ, ์ ๋ถ์ ์๋ฆฌ๋ ์ ๋ ์ฉ๋ฉํ์ง ๋ชปํ๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ผ๊ตด์ด ์์ฃผ ์ ๊น ์ผ์ด๋ถ์ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ๋๋ ๋ฎ๊ฒ ์ค์๋ฅผ ํฐ๋จ๋ ธ๋ค. ๊ทธ ์์์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์ด์ฐ๋ ์์๋ง์๋์ง, ๋ ๋ ๊ฐ๋ ์์ด ๋์ค๋ ํ๊ธฐ์ ๋น์ฅ์ด๋ผ๋ ์คํ์ด ๋ค ์ ๋์๋ค. "์ ๋์์ด." ๊ณง์ด์ด ์์ญ์ด๋ฏ์ด ๋ค๋ ค์ค๋ ๊ทธ์ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ์ ๋ชจ๋ ํฌ๋ง์ด ์์ฅ์ฐฝ ๋ถ์์ก๋ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก , ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์์ ์ ์ฌ๋ํ์ง ์์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ผ๋ ์ฌ์ค์ ๋๊ตฌ๋ณด๋ค ์ ์๊ณ ์์ผ๋ฉด์๋ ๋ง์ด๋ค. ๋๋ค์ ๊ทธ์ ๋๊ธธ์ ํผํ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ฐ๋ผ ์์์ง๋ง, ๊ทธ ์์์๋ฆฌ๋ง์ ์์ ์ ๋น์๊ณ ์๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ ๋๋์ด ๋ค์๋ค. "๋ํ๋, ์ ๋ ๋ด์ผ ์ฐ์ฐจ ์ฌ์ฉํ ์์ ์ด๋ ์ ๊ฐ ์ ์ฒญํ ์ฐ์ฐจ ๊ฑฐ์ ํ์ง ๋ง์๊ธฐ ๋ฐ๋๋๋ค. ๋ฒ์ ์ผ๋ก ์ ํ ์ฐ์ฐจ๋ฅผ ์ฌ์ฉํ๋ ๊ฑฐ๋๊น ๊ฑฐ์ ํ ์ด์ ๋ ์๊ฒ ์ฃ ?" ๊ฑฐ์น ๊ฒ ์ผ๊ทธ๋ฌ์ง ๊ทธ์ ์ด๋ชฉ๊ตฌ๋น๊ฐ ํ๋ฌ๋ค๋ ๊ฒ์ ์ฆ๋ช ํ์ง๋ง ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋๋ก ๊พน ์ต๋๋ ๋ค. ๋จ์์ ์ฃผ์์๋ ๊ทธ์ ๋ง ํ๋ง๋์ ์์ํ๊ณ ํํธ๋๋ก ์ง๋ผ ์ฌ์๋ค์ด ๋์น๊ณ ๋ ๋จ์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฌ๋ ๊ทธ์ ์ง์๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๋ฅด์ง ์๋ ์ฌ๋์ ํ์ ์์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ํ์ธํฌ์ ํฑ์ ๋์์ฃผ๊ณ ์์ค๋ก ํฅํ๋ค. ์ ์ ํ, ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์ค์๋ฅผ ๋ง์น๊ณ ๋์ค์ ๋ฐฉ์ ์ด๋ฏธ ๊น๋ํ๊ฒ ์ ๋ฆฌ๋์ด ์์๋ค. ์นจ๋์๋ 3๋ ์ , ์์ ์ด ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ ๊ฑด๋จ ์ํ ์นด๋๊ฐ ๋์ฌ ์์๋ค. ์ด ์นด๋๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์์ ์ ํํธ๋๋ก ์ง๋ด๋ ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ ์ง์ํ ์นด๋์๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ์ง๋ 3๋ ๋์, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์นด๋์ ์๋ ๋ ํ ํผ๋ ๋ค์น์ง ์์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ด์ ๋ชจ๋ฅผ ์ง์ฆ๊ณผ ๋ต๋ตํจ์ด ๊ฐ์ด ๊น์ํ ๊ณณ์์ ์น๋ฐ์ด ์ค๋ฅด๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๊ผ๋ค. ์ 2ํ ๋ง์ ํ ๋ฐ๋ก ์์ (์ 2๋ถ๋ถ) ๋ค์ ๋ ์์นจ 9์, ์นดํ. ์ด๋ฒ ๋ง์ ์ด ์ฒซ ๋ง์ ์ ์๋์์ง๋ง, ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์ดํ ๋ก ์ง์งํ ํ๋๋ก ์ํ๋ ๊ฑด ์ฒ์์ด์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ง์ํธ์ ์์ ๋จ์๋ 36์ด์ ๋์ด์ ํ๋ฒํ ์๊น์์ ์ด์ ๋ง ๊ท๊ตญํ์ฌ ์ง๊ธ์ ๋ชจ ์ ์ ํ์ฌ์ ์์ ์์ง๋์ด๋ก ๊ทผ๋ฌดํ๊ณ ์๋ค๊ณ ํ๋ค. ์ง์ ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ง์๊ฐ ์ ๊ณ ๋ด์ฑ์ ์ธ ์ฑ๊ฒฉ์ด๋ผ๊ณ ํ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฐ ์ด์ ๋๋ฌธ์ธ์ง, ๋ ์ฌ๋์ด ๋ง๋์๋ถํฐ ์ง๊ธ๊น์ง ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ๋ํ์ ์ฃผ๋๊ถ์ ์ฅ์ ํ๊ณ ์์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ด๋จธ๋์ธ ์ ๋ฏธ์์ ์๊ตฌ๋๋ก ์๋จ๊ณผ ์๋ฌผ์ ๋น๋กฏํด, ์ ํผ ์ง๊ณผ ์๋์ฐจ๋ฅผ ์๊ตฌํ๊ณ ๋จ์๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ๋ชจ๋ ๋ง์กฑ์์ผ ์ค ์ ์๋ค๊ณ ๋๋ตํ๋ค. ๋ ์ด์ ๊ฑฐ์ ํ ์ด์ ๋ฅผ ์ฐพ์ง ๋ชปํ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ง์์ด ๊ณตํํด์ง๋ฉฐ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ๋ป๊ทผํด์ง๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๊ผ๋ค. ์์นจ ์ผ์ฐ ์ง์ ๋์ค ๋, ์ ๋ฏธ์์ด ์์ํ๊ณ ๋ ์๋ฅํ ๋ชจ์ต์ผ๋ก ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๋ฐฐ์ ํด ์ฃผ๋ ๋ชจ์ต์ ๋ ์ฌ๋ ธ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ด๋จธ๋๋ ์ด์ ์ด๋ฑํ๊ต 5ํ๋ ๋จ๋์์ ๋ฑ๊ต ์ค๋น๋ฅผ ๋์์ฃผ๋ฉด์ ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ ๋ง์ ์์ ์ฃผ์ํด์ผ ํ ๋ง๊ณผ ๋ฐ๋์ ์ ๊ธฐํด์ผ ํ ์๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์๊ธฐ์์ผ ์ฃผ๋ฉฐ ๊ฒฐํผ์ ์ข์ ์ ์ ๋ํ์ฌ ๊ฐ์กฐํ๊ณ ๋ ๊ฐ์กฐํ๋ค. ๋ฌด์๋ณด๋ค๋ ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ ์๋จ ์๋ฌผ์ ๋ ๋ง์ด ์๊ตฌํ๋๋ก ์ง์ํ๊ณ , ๋จ๋์์ ๋ํ ๋ฑ๋ก๊ธ๊ณผ ์์ผ๋ก ์์ ์ ๋ ธํ์๊ธ๊น์ง ์๊ตฌํ๋ฉฐ ์์๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋์ด๋์๋ค. ๊ทธ ์๊ฐ์ ํ์ธํฌ์ ์ ๊ผฌ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๋น์ค๋ฌํ ์ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ๋ฉฐ ์ด์์์ ์ง์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ด๋จธ๋ ์ ๋ฏธ์์ 6๋ฒ์ ๊ฒฐํผ์ ๋ชจ๋ ์คํจํ๋ค๋ ์ฌ์ค์ ๊น๋งฃ๊ฒ ์์ด๋ฒ๋ฆฐ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. 2๋ ์ , ์ ๋ฏธ์์ ๊ฐ์๊ธฐ 10์ด ๋จ์งํ ๋จ์์์ด์ ์์ ์ก๊ณ ๋ํ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ํ ๋จธ๋๊ฐ ์ ์ผํ๊ฒ ๋จ๊ฒจ๋ ๋ก์ ์ง ์์์ ํต๊ณกํ๋ฉฐ 10๋ ๋์ ์ฐ๋ฝ ํ ๋ฒ ํ์ง ์์ ๋ธ์๊ฒ ๋จ์์์ด๋ฅผ ํค์ฐ๋ผ๊ณ ๊ฐ์ํ๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ๋ ์ด๋ฐ ์๊ฐ์ ํ๋ค. ๋ง์ฝ, ์ ๋ฏธ์์ด ์ด๋ป๊ฒ ์๊ฒผ๋์ง ๊ธฐ์ตํ์ง ๋ชปํ๋ค๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ์ด๋จธ๋๋ก ์ธ์ ํ์ง ์์๋ ๋ ๊น? ํ์ง๋ง ํ์ค์ ๋ ์๊ฐ๋๋ก ํ๋ฌ๊ฐ์ง ์์๊ณ ์๋ฆ๋ค์ด ๋ฏธ๋๋ฅผ ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ฐ์นํ ์์๊น์ง ๋ฐํํ๋ค. ํ ์์ ๋ฅผ ๋ฌผ๊ณ ํ์ด๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ๋ค์ด์๋ชฌ๋ ์์ ๋ฅผ ๋ฌผ๊ณ ํ์ด๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ณ์ ์๊ฒ ๋ค๋ ์์ฌ๋ ํจ๊ป ๋ง์ด๋ค. ์ด๋, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ์๊ธฐ ์๋ฆฌ์์ ๋ฒ๋ก ์ผ์ด๋๋ ์ด์ ํ์ ์์ง์ ์๋ฆฌ์ ๋ฒ์ฉ ์ ์ ์ด ๋ค์๋ค. ์ด์ ํ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ค์ ์๋ ๋๊ตฐ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๊ฒฌํ๊ณ ๊ณต์ํ ์์ธ๋ฅผ ์ทจํ๋ฉฐ ํ๋ฆฌ๊น์ง ์์ฌ๊ฐ๋ฉฐ ์ธ์ฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋ค๋ ๊ฒ์ด์๋ค. "๊ฐ ๋ํ๋. ์ฐ์ฐํ ๋ง๋๋ ๋ ๋ฐ๊ฐ์ด ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ต๋๋ค." ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ฐ๋ก ๋ค์์ ํ๊ฒจ์ค๋ ์ต์ํ ํฅ์ ๋์๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๋ฎ์ณค๊ณ , ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ธด์ฅํ ๋ฏ ์์ฒด๋ฅผ ๊ผฟ๊ผฟ์ด ์ธ์ ๋ค. ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋ค์ ๋ธ๋ํ์ด๋ผ๋ ์จ๊ฒจ ๋์ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ ์ด๋์ด ๋๋์๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ์ฃผ์ํ๊ณ ์์๊ณ ๊ธด์ฅ๊ฐ์ ๋น์ฅ์ด๋ผ๋ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ์ ๋ฐ์ ํ์ด๋์ฌ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์ ์ด ์๊ฐ์ ์ด๊ณณ์ ์๋ ๊ฑธ๊น? ์นดํ์์ ํ๋งคํ๋ ์ปคํผ๋ ์ ์ ๋์ง๋ ์์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๋ง์๋ ๋ชจ๋ ์ปคํผ๋ ๋ค ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์ง์ ๋ง๋ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. "๋ค, ์๋ ํ์ธ์." ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ์ ์์ ์ ๊ฑฐ๋์ด๋ค์ธ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ด์ ํ๋ฅผ ํฅํด ์๊ฒ ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋๋์ธ ๋ค์ ์นด์ดํฐ๋ก ํฅํ๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ด์ ํ๊ฐ ๋๊ตฌ์ธ์ง ์ ํ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๋ ๋์น์์ง๋ง, ์ด์ ํ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์๊ธฐ ์ธ์ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ์์คฌ๋ค๋ ์ฌ์ค์ ๋ง์กฑํ๊ณ ์์๋ค. ๊ณง๋ฐ๋ก ์ด์ ํ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ํด์ธ์์ ์ ํ ๊ธฐ๊ฐ ๋์ ์ถ๊ฐํ๋ ๋ ผ๋ฌธ์ ๋ํด ๊ทน์ฐฌํ๋ค. ์ด์ ํ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ํ ์กด๊ฒฝ์ฌ์ ํ๋๋ก ์น์์ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๊ณ , ๋ค์ผ๋ฉด ๋ค์์๋ก ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์์น์ฌ์ด ๋ค์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์ด์ ํ๊ฐ ํ๋ ๋ง์ ๋ฃ์ง ์๊ธธ ๋ฐ๋ผ๋ฉฐ ์นด์ดํฐ ๋ฐฉํฅ์ ๋์๋ณด์ ๋คํํ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ํตํ ์ค์ด์๋ค. "๊ทธ๋." ๊ฐ์งํ์ ํ์๋ต์ง ์๊ฒ ๋ถ๋๋ฌ์ด ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ก ํตํ๋ฅผ ํ๊ณ ์์๋ค. "๋๋ง ์ข์ผ๋ฉด ๋ผ. ์ด๋ฐ ๋ด." ํตํ๋ฅผ ๋ง์น ๊ทธ๋ ์ฝ์ฝ๋ ๋ฐํฌ๋ฅผ ํฌ์ฅํ๊ณ ์นดํ๋ฅผ ๋น ์ ธ๋๊ฐ๋ค. ์ฝ์ฝ๋ ๋ฐํฌ๋ฅผ ๋ง์๋ ์ฌ๋๋ค์ ์ฃผ๋ก ์ฌ์ ๊ณ ๊ฐ์ผ๋ก ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ฝํผ์๋ฅผ ์ํด ์ง์ ์นดํ๊น์ง ์จ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ๊ฐ์ด์ด ์๋ ค์ค๋ ๋๋์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ ์ด์ ์ด์ ํ๊ฐ ํ๋ ๋ง์ ์ง์คํ ์ ์์๋ค. ๋ง์ ์ด ๋๋ ๋ฌด๋ ต, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ค์์ ๊ธฐ์ฝํ๋ ์ด์ ํ์ ๋ง์ ์ ์ง ์๊ฒ ๋๋๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ๋ ์ฌ๋์ ํ ๋ฒ ๋ ๋ง๋๋ณด๊ธฐ๋ก ๊ฒฐ์ ํ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฌ๋ ์ค, ์ด์ ํ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์๊ธฐ ์ ํ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๋๋ ํ์ฌ์ ๊ธํ ์ผ์ด ์๊ฒจ ์ง๊ธ ๋น์ฅ ๋์๊ฐ ๋ด์ผ ํ๋ค๊ณ ํ๋ค. ์ด์ ํ๋ ํ์ธํฌ์๊ฒ ์ฐ์ ์ฌ๊ณผ๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋ค๊ณ ๋ค์์ ๋ง๋ ์ฝ์๊น์ง ๋ฏธ๋ฆฌ ์ก์ ํ ์นดํ๋ฅผ ๋์ฐ๋ค. ์ ์ ํ, ์นดํ๋ฅผ ๋์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ํ์์ ์ฌ๋ผํ๊ณ ์ง์ผ๋ก ํฅํ ์ค๋น๋ฅผ ํ๋ค. ์์นจ์ ๋จน์ง ์์ ์์ธ์ผ๊น, ์๋๋ฉด ๋น์์ ์ปคํผ๋ฅผ ๋๋ฌด ๋ง์ด ๋ง์ ํ์ผ๊น. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฐจ์ ์ค๋ฅด์๋ง์ ์์ด ๋ฉ์ฅ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ ์์ํ๊ณ ์ฐธ์ผ๋ ค๊ณ ์ ๋ฅผ ์ผ์ง๋ง, ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ์คํจํ๊ณ ๋ง์๋ค. "๊ธฐ์ฌ๋, ์ฐจ ์ข ์ธ์์ฃผ์ธ์..." ๋ง์ ๋ง์น๊ธฐ๋ ์ ์ ํ๊ตฌ์ญ์ง์ด ๋จผ์ ๋์ค์ ์ฐจ์ ๋ง๋ จ๋์ด ์๋ ์ฐ๋ ๊ธฐ๋ดํฌ๋ฅผ ์ง์ด ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์์๋ค. ๊ธธ๊ฐ์ ์ฐจ๋ฅผ ์ธ์ด ํ์ ๊ธฐ์ฌ๋์ ์๋ ํ ๋ด์ง๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋ค๋ฉฐ ๋งํ๋ค. "๊ธ๋ฐฉ ์์ ํ๋ฉด ๋ค๋ค ๊ทธ๋์. ์ฐ๋ฆฌ ์๋ด๋ ์๊ฐ์จ๋ ์ฆ์์ด ๋๊ฐ์์ด์. ์ ๋ง์ด ๊ฐํ๊ฒ ๋๋ ๊ณผ์ผ์ ๋จน์ผ๋ฉด ์กฐ๊ธ ๊ด์ฐฎ์์ง ์๋ ์์ด์. ์ฒซ 4๊ฐ์ ๋์์ ์ด๋ ๊ฒ ํ๋ค ๊ฑฐ์์. ๊ทธ ์๊ธฐ๋ง ์ง๋๋ฉด ์ ๋ ์ ์๊ณ ๋ฐฅ๋ ์์ ์ฒ๋ผ ๋จน์ ์ ์์ ๊ฑฐ์์." ํ์ ๊ธฐ์ฌ๋์ ๋ง์ ๋ฃ๊ณ ๋์์ผ ์๋ฆฌ ์ฃผ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๊ณ์ฐํ๋ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊น์ง ๋๋๋ค. ์๋ฆฌ ์์ ์ผ์ด ์ด๋ฏธ ์ผ์ฃผ์ผ์ด๋ ์ง๋ ์ํฉ์ด์๋ค. ์๋์ผ, ๊ทธ๋ด ๋ฆฌ ์์ด... ์ฝ์ ๋น ์ง์์ด ์ ์ฑ๊ฒจ ๋จน์๋๋ฐ... ๊ฐ์๊ธฐ ์ฐ๋ฌผ์ฒ๋ผ ๋ฐ๋ ค์ค๋ ๊ธฐ์ต์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ๋ค์ ์๋ฆฌ์ ์ผ์ด๋ถ๊ณ ๋ง์๋ค. ์ ํํ 3์ฃผ์ผ ์ , ๋ค์ ๋ , ์์นจ ์ผ์ฐ ์ฝ๊ตญ์ ๋ค๋ฌ ํผ์์ฝ์ ์ฌ๋ ค ํ์ผ๋ ์ ๋ฏธ์์ด ๋๋ฐ ํ์๋ก ์ฒดํฌ๋์๋ค๋ ์ ํ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๊ณ ๋๋ฌด ํ๊ฐ ์น๋ฐ์๋ ๋๋จธ์ง ํผ์์ฝ์ ๊น๋งฃ๊ฒ ์๊ณ ์์๋ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ๋ค์ ๊ธฐ์ต๋ฌ์ ๋, ์ด๋ฏธ ์ฝ์ ๋ณต์ฉํด์ผ ํ๋ ๊ธฐํ์ด ํ์ฉ ์ง๋๋ฒ๋ฆฐ ํ์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ๋งํ ์์ ์ฌ๋ ค ๋ณต๋ถ๋ฅผ ์ฐ๋ค๋ฌ์๋ค. ๋ง์ ์ ๋ณด์๋ง์ ๋ค๋ฅธ ๋จ์์ ์์ด๋ฅผ ์์ ํ๋ค๋ ์ฌ์ค์ ์๊ฒ ๋ ํ๋ฅ ์ ์ผ๋ง๋ ๋ ๊น? ์ 3ํ ์์ ํ์ด ์๋ด ํ ๋ณ์, ์ ์์ฆ์ ์์ ์ฅ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์ฐ๋ถ์ธ๊ณผ ๋ณต๋์์ ์ค์ ์๊ธฐ ์ํด ๋ฐ๊ฑธ์์ ์ฎ๊ธฐ๊ณ ์์๋ค. ๋ชจํ์ด๋ฅผ ๋์ ๋ถ๊ณผ ๋ช ๋ฏธํฐ๋ฐ์ ๋จ์ด์ง์ง ์์ ๊ณณ์์ ์ต์ํ ๊ทธ๋ฆผ์๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๊ฒฌํ๋ค. ๋ง์ ์ฌ๋๋ค์ด ์ค๊ฐ๋ ๋ณ์ ๋ก๋น์์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ํ์ฒด๋ง ๋ณด๊ณ ๋ ๋จ๋ฒ์ ์ ์ ์์๋ค. ์ญ์ผ๊ฐํ ๋ชธ๋งค์ ์ด์ธ๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ง์ถค ์ ์ฅ์ ๋จ์์ ์๋ฒฝํ๊ฒ ๋งค์น๋์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์กฐ๊ธ ์ ์นดํ์์ ํฌ์ฅํ ์ฝ์ฝ๋ ๋ฐํฌ๋ฅผ ๊ณ์ ์ ์ฌ์์๊ฒ ๊ฑด๋ธ๋ค. ๊ทธ์ ์์ ๋ผ์์ง ๋ฐ์ง๊ฐ ๋ณ์ ์ฐฝ๋ฌธ์ ๋ฐ์ฌ๋๋ ํ์ด์ ๋ง์ ์ ๋ํ ๋๋ถ์๊ฒ ๋น๋ฌ๋ค. ๊ฐ์ด์ด ์๋ ค์ค๋ ๋๋์ ์ ์จ ๋๋ฅธ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์์ ์ ํผํ์ง ์๊ฒ ๋ค๊ณ ์ค์ค๋ก ๋ค์งํ๋ฉฐ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ณ์ ๋น๋นํ๊ฒ ์ ์ฌ์์ ์ผ๊ตด์ ํ์ธํ๊ธฐ ์ํด ๋์ ๋๋ฐ๋ก ๋ด๋ค. ๋ฐ๋ก ์ด๋, ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๊ฐ์๊ธฐ ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์๋ ๋ฐฉํฅ์ ์ณ๋ค๋ณด๋ ๊ฒ์ด์๋ค. ๋ง์ฃผ์น ๋ ๋ ์ฌ์ด๋ก ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ผ๊ตด์ ๋ถ์พํ ๊ธฐ์์ด ์ค์ณ ์ง๋๊ฐ๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ ์จ ๋ฏธ์ ์ง์ ์ผ๊ตด๋ก ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋๋์๋ค. ์ง๊ธ ์ด ์๊ฐ์ ๋ง๋จ์ด ๋จ์ํ ์ฐ์ฐ์ด๋ผ๊ณ ์น๋ถํ๊ณ ์ถ์๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ๋๋ค์ ๋ฐ๋ ค์ค๋ ํ๊ตฌ์ญ์ง์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ํฉ๊ธํ ํ์ฅ์ค๋ก ๋ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ๊ณ ์์ ๋ชจ๋ ๋น์๋ด๊ณ ๋์์ผ ์จ์ ๊ณ ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด ์ ์์๋ค. ํ์ฅ์ค๋ก ๋ฌ๋ ค์ฌ ๋, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ๊ณผ ๊ทธ์ ์ฝํผ๋ ๋ค์ ๋์ธ ํ์งํ์ ์ ํ ๊ธ์จ๋ฅผ ๋๋ํ ๋ณด์๋ค. ๋ ์ฌ๋์ด ๋์จ ๊ณณ์ ๋ฐ๋ก ์ฐ์ ๊ฒ์ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๋ ๊ณณ์ด์๋ค. ๋ ์ฌ๋์ ์๋ง ๊ฒฐํผ ์ ๋ถํฐ ๊ณํํ ์์ด๋ฅผ ์ํด ๊ฒ์ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ์ผ๋ฌ ์จ ๊ฒ์ด๊ฒ ์ง. ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์ผ๋ถ๋ฌ ์๊ฐ์ ๋ด์ด ๋ณ์์ ๋ฐฉ๋ฌธํ๋ค๋ ์ฌ์ค๊ณผ ์นดํ์ ๋ค๋ฌ ์ง์ ์ฝ์ฝ๋ ๋ฐํฌ๋ฅผ ํฌ์ฅํ ๊ฒ๊น์ง ์๊ฐํ์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋๋ค์ ๋ง์์ด ์ธ์ธํด ๋๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๊ผ๋ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก ๊ทธ์ ์๋ด๊ฐ ๋ ์ฌ๋์๊ฒ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ชจ๋ ์ ์ ๊ณผ ์๊ฐ์ ์์๋ถ์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ๊ทธ์ ์ผ๊ฑฐ์์ผํฌ์กฑ์ด ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๋ํ๋ ๋ฐฉ์๊ณผ๋ ๋๋ฌด ๋น๊ต๊ฐ ๋์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๋ฐฐ๋ ํํธ๋๋ก ์ง๋๋ ์ง๋ 3๋ ๋์, ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ๋ฌด์จ ์์์ ์ฆ๊ฒจ ๋จน๊ณ ๋ฌด์์ ์ข์ํ๋์ง ์๊ณ ์๋์ง๋ ์์ฌ์ด ๋ค์๋ค. ์ด์ ๋ ์ด์ ์ ๊ฒฝ ์ฐ์ง ์์๋ ๋ ๋ฌธ์ ์ ๋ํด ๊น์ด ์๊ฐํ ์๊ฐ๋ ์๋์ง๋ ์์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ธ ์์ ๋น์น ์ด์ทํ ์ผ๊ตด์ ๋ซ์ด์ง๊ฒ ์ณ๋ค๋ณด๊ณ ์ฌํธํก์ ํ๋๋ ํฐ์๋ก ์ ์ฃผ์๋ฅผ ๋ฆ๊ณ ๋์์ผ ํ์ฅ์ค ๋ฌธ์ ์ด๊ณ ๋์๋ค. ๋ฌธ์ ์ด์๋ง์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์ธ๋ฉด๋ ์์ ๊ธฐ๋์ด ์๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋ฐ๊ฒฌํ๊ณ ๋ฏธ๊ฐ์ ๊น๊ฒ ์ฐํธ๋ฆฐ ๊ทธ์ ์๊ฐ๋ฝ ์ฌ์ด์ ๋ถ์ ๋ถ์ธ ๋ด๋ฐฐ๊ฐ ์์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ด ๊ณณ์ ๋์๊ฐ ๋ง์์ ๋ค์ง ์์๋ค. ์ค๋ง, ๊ทธ์ ์ฝํผ๋ ๋ ํ์ฅ์ค์ ์๋ ๊ฑธ๊น? ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ํน ์์ด๊ณ ์๋ฌด๊ฒ๋ ๋ณด์ง ๋ชปํ ์ฒ ์ฐ๊ธฐํ๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ๋ณ์ ํ์ฅ์ค์ ์ธ๋ฉด๋๋ ํ ์ค๋ก ๋์ฌ ์์๊ณ ์์ ์ป์ผ๋ ค๋ฉด ๋ฐ๋์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ณ์ ์ง๋๊ฐ์ผ๋ง ํ๋ค. ์์ ์ป์์ง ๋ง์ง ๊ณ ๋ฏผํ๊ณ ์์ ๋, ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ฐจ๊ฐ์ด ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๋ค๋ ค์๋ค. "์์ ํ์ด?" ์งง์ ๊ทธ์ ๋ฌผ์ ํ ๋ง๋์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ์ด์ด ์ ๋ฉํ๊ฒ ๋ด๋ ค์์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ฐ์์ ์ ์ฌํ ๊ด์ฐฐํ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋๋ต์ ๋ฃ์ง ์์๋ ์ ์ ์์๋ค. "๋๋ตํด!" ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ํฅํด ํ ๊ฑธ์ ํ ๊ฑธ์ ๋ค๊ฐ์๊ณ , ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์ข์์ง์๋ก ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ๋์ฑ ๋น ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋ฐ๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๋ ์ ์์๋ค. ๋น์ฅ์ด๋ผ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ๋ชฉ์ ์์ผ์ฅ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ ๊ธฐ์ธ์ ํ๋ ๋๋น. ๋ง์ฝ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์์ ํ ๊ฒ์ด ์ฌ์ค์ด๋ผ๋ฉด, ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ฐ๋ก ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ์์ ์ค๋ก. "์๋์." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ํ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ผฟ๊ผฟ์ด ํด๊ณ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ ๋์ ๋๋ฐ๋ก ์ณ๋ค๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋๋ตํ๋ค. "๋ฐฐํ ๋๋ฌธ์ ์ฝ ๋ฐ์ผ๋ฌ ์์ด์." "๊ทธ๋? ํ์ง๋ง ์ํ ๋ด๊ณผ๋ ์ฌ๊ธฐ ์๋๋ฐ?" ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ํ๋ ๋ง์ ๋ฏฟ์ง ์๋๋ค๋ ๋ฏ ๋์ ๊ฐ๋๊ฒ ๋จ๊ณ ์ถ๊ถํ๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ์ ์ผ๊ตด์๋ ์ธ์ธํ ๋ฏธ์๋ง ๋ฒ์ง ๋ฟ์ด์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์์ ์ด ๋์ฒด ์ผ๋ง๋ ์ซ์ ๊ฑธ๊น? "์ด๊ณณ ์๋ฆฌ๋ฒ ์ดํฐ์๋ ์ฌ๋์ด ์ ์ผ๋๊น์. ์ ๊ฐ ํ๋ ๋ง์ ๋ฏฟ๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์๋ ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๋ฉด, ๋ํ๋๊ป์ ์ ์ ํจ๊ป ์ฐ๋ถ์ธ๊ณผ ์ง์ฐฐ์ ๋ฐ์ผ๋ฉด ๋๊ฒ ๋ค์." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ํ์ ํ ์ ์์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์กด์ฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ ๋ ์ฝํผ๋ ์๊ฒ ์๋ฆฌ์ง ์์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ์ ์์๋๋ก ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ค์๋ฅผ ํฐ๋จ๋ฆฌ๋๋ ๋ด๋ฐฐ๋ฅผ ์ฅ ์์ผ๋ก ๊ทธ๋ ์ ํฑ์ ์์ผ์ก์๋ค. ๊ทธ์ ์์ง์๊ฐ๋ฝ์ด ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ ์ ์ ํ์ ๋ ๋จ๊ฑฐ์ด ๋ด๋ฐฐ๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ผ๊ตด ๋ฐ๋ก ์์ผ๋ก ๋ค๊ฐ์๊ณ , ์๋ฆฌ์ ์ผ์ด๋ถ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ผ๊ตด์ ํ์ด ์ง๊น ๋๋ ค์ ๋ค. "๋ง์ฝ ์ง๊ธ ๋ด ์์์ ํ ๋ง์ด ๊ฑฐ์ง๋ง์ด๋ผ๋ฉด, ๊ทธ ์์ํ ๋๊ฐ๋ฅผ ์น๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ. ์ฐฉํ๊ฒ ๊ตด์ด์ผ์ง. ๋ด์ผ ์ถ๊ทผํด." ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์น ๊ฒ ํ์ธํฌ์ ํฑ์ ๋์ ์ฃผ์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์์ด ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ผ๊ตด์ ์ค์ณ ์ง๋๊ฐ ๋, ํฌ๋ฏธํ ํฅ์ ๋์๊ฐ ํ์ธํฌ์ ์ฝ๋ฅผ ์ฐ๋ ๋ค. ๋ฏ์ ํฅ์ ๋์์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์๋ ค์ค๋ ๊ฐ์ด์ ์์ผ์ก์๋ค. 3๋ ์ด๋ผ๋ ์๊ฐ ๋์, ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๋ฌด์์ ์ซ์ดํ๋์ง ๋๊ตฌ๋ณด๋ค ์ ํ์ ํ๊ณ ์์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ฌ์ ํฅ์ ๋์๋ฅผ ์ ์ผ ์ซ์ดํ๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ์ง๊ธ์... ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฃผ๋จน์ ์์ผ์ฅ๊ณ ์ ์ ์ ๊ผญ ๊นจ๋ฌผ์๋ค. ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋ถ๊ฐ๋ฅํ ๊ฑด ์์๋ค. ๋จ์ง ๊ทธ ๊ท์น์ ์ด๊ธธ ์ ์๋ ์ฌ๋๋ค๋ง ๊ฐ๋ฅํ ๊ฒ์ผ ๋ฟ. ๋ฉ์ด์ง๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ท๋ชจ์ต์ ์ณ๋ค๋ณด๋ฉฐ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ๊ฒฐ์ฌํ ๋ฏ ์ ์ ์ด์๋ค. "๋ํ๋, ์ ํด์ฌํ๊ฒ ์ต๋๋ค." ๋ช ๋ฐ์ง ๋ผ์ง ๋ชปํ ๋จ์๊ฐ ๋ค์ ์๋ฆฌ์ ๋ฉ์ถฐ ์๋๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๋์๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋๋ฌผ์๋ค. "๋ฐฉ๊ธ ๋ญ๋ผ๊ณ ?" "ํด์ฌํ๊ฒ ์ต๋๋ค." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ด๋ฒ์ ์ข ๋ ์ฐจ๋ถํ๊ณ ํ๊ณ ํ ํ๋๋ก ๊ฐ์ ๋ง์ ๋ฐ๋ณตํ๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ทธ์ ์ผ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ผ๊ตด์ ๋๋ฐ๋ก ์ณ๋ค๋ดค๊ณ ์ ์ ์๋ ๋น์๋ฅ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ฏํ ๋ฏธ์๊ฐ ๊ฑธ๋ ค ์์๋ค. "ํ๋ชจ์์ฒ๊ฐ ๋ ์๊ฐ์ด์ผ?" ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋ด๋ดํ๊ฒ ์ค๋ช ํ๋ค. "ํ๋ชจ์์ฒ๋ ๋์์ง ์๋ค์. ๋ง์ ์๋๊ฐ ์ค๋ ์ ์ ๊ฒฐํผ๊น์ง ์ฝ์ํ์ด์." "๊ทธ ๋จ์๊ฐ ๋ง์์ ๋ค์์ด?" ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ ์๋ฐ์ ์ด์๊ณ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ์ผ์ด๋ถ๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์๋ค. ์์ฃผ ์ ๊น์ด๋๋ง ์์ ์ด ๋ค๋ฅธ ์ฌ๋๊ณผ ๊ฒฐํผํ๋ค๋ ์ฌ์ค์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ํ๋ฅผ ๋ด๊ณ ์๋ ๊ฒ์ด๋ผ๊ณ ๋ฏฟ์ ๋ปํ์ผ๋๊น. "๊ทธ ๋จ์๊ฐ ๋ ๋ง์กฑํ๊ฒ ํ ์ ์์ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์?" ํ์ง๋ง ๋ง์ ํ๋ฉด ํ ์๋ก ๊ทธ์ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ์๋ ๋น์์์ด ํ๊ฐ๋ ๋ฌป์ด๋ฌ๋ค. "๊ทธ ๋จ์, ๋๋ ์ ์๋ ์ฌ๋์ด์ผ. ๋๋์ ์ด์ธ๋ฆฌ์ง ์์. ๊ทธ๋ฌ๋๊น ์ต๋ํ ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ๋๋ด." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ์๋ฌด๋ ์ง ์๊ฒ ๋ด๋ฐฐ๋ฅผ ์ฌ๋จ์ด์ ๋ฒ๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ชจ์ต์ ๊ฐ๋งํ ์ง์ผ๋ดค๋ค. ๊ทธ์ ๋งํฌ๋ ํ์ฌ์์ ์ ๋ฌด๋ฅผ ๋งก๊ธธ ๋์ ๋ค๋ฆ์์ด ๋ด๋ดํ๊ณ ๋ ํ์จํ๋ค. ์์ ์ ๊ทธ๋ ์๋ค๋ฉด ๊ทธ์ ๋ฌต๋ฌตํ ๊ทธ์ ์ง์๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๋์ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง, ์ง๊ธ์ ๋ ์ด์ ๊ทธ๋ฌ๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์์กด์ฌ๋ ๋ฌต์ดํ๋ ๋จ์์ ๋ฐ์ ์ง๋ฐํ ํ์ฒด๋ ์์๋ณผ ์ ์๊ฒ ๋ณํ๋ ์์ ์ด ์ซ์๋ค. ์ฉ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋ธ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ทธ์ ๋งํฌ๋ฅผ ํ๋ด ๋ด๋ฉฐ ๋น์๋ฅ๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋ค. ์ฌ์ง์ด ์ ์ ๋ฏธ์๊น์ง ์ง์ผ๋ฉฐ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ ๋์ ๋๋ฐ๋ก ์ณ๋ค๋ดค๋ค. "ํ๋ฒ ๋์ ํด ๋ณด๊ณ ์ถ์ด์. ๋๊ฐ ์์์? ์์ธ๋ก ์๊ถํฉ์ด ์ ๋ง์์ง." ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ธ๋ฉด๋์์ ๋์ถฉ ์์ ์ป์ ๋ค, ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๊ฑฐ๋ค๋ ๋ณด์ง๋ ์๊ณ ๋ฉ์ด์ ธ ๊ฐ๋ค. ๋ณ์ ๊ฑด๋ฌผ์ ๋์๋ ์๊ฐ๊น์ง ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ๋ฆฌ๋ ์์ ์ฃผ์ฒดํ ์ ์์๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๋๋ฌด ๋๋ ค์ ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ฐ๋ถ์ธ๊ณผ ๊ฒ์ฌ๋ ๋ฐ์ง ๋ชปํ๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋น์๊ฐ ๋ ์๊ฐ๋ถํฐ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ ํ ๋ฒ๋ ๊ทธ์ ๋ง์ ๋ฐ๋ฐํ๊ฑฐ๋ ๋ง๋๊พธํ ์ ์ด ์์๋ค. ์ค๋์ด ์ฒ์์ด์๋ค. ์์ ์ ์ด๋ฐ ํ๋์ด ์ด๋ค ํ๊ณผ๋ฅผ ์ด๋ํ ์ง ๋ชฐ๋๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง ํ ๊ฐ์ง๋ง์ ํ์คํ๋ค. ์ง๊ธ ๋น์ฅ ํ์ฌ๋ฅผ ๊ทธ๋ง๋๊ณ ๊ฐ์งํ๊ณผ ์ต๋ํ ๋ฉ๋ฆฌ ๋จ์ด์ ธ ์ง๋ด์ผ ํ๋ค. ์์ํ ์ง๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ง ์์๋ ์๊ฐ์ด ์ง๋๊ณ ๋ค์ ๋ ์์นจ์ด ์ฐพ์์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์์ค ๊ฑฐ์ธ ์์์ ์ถ๊ทผํ ์ง ๋ง์ง ํ์ฐธ์ ๋ง์ค์๋ค. 2์๊ฐ ํ, ์์ ์ฌ์ง์๋ฅผ ๋ ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ๊ฐ์งํ ์ฌ๋ฌด์ค ๋ฌธ์ ์กฐ์ฌ์ค๋ฝ๊ฒ ๋ ธํฌํ๊ณ ๋ค์ด๊ฐ ์ง๋ฌด์ฑ ์ ์์ ๊ณต์ํ๊ฒ ๋ด๋ ค๋์๋ค. "๋ํ๋, ์ฌ์ธํด ์ฃผ์ธ์." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ทธ๊ฐ ์๋ ์ชฝ์ผ๋ก ์ฌ์ง์๋ฅผ ๋ด๋ฐ๋ฉฐ ์ ์คํ๊ฒ ๋งํ๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ๊ทธ์ ์์ ๋ฉ์ถฐ ์ค ๋๊น์ง ์๋ฅ์์ ๋์ ๋ผ์ง ์์๋ ๊ทธ๊ฐ ์ฌ์ง์๋ผ๋ ๋ง์ ์์ฐ๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฐ ์ง์ง ์ฌ์ง์๋ฅผ ์ ์ถํ ์ค ๋ชฐ๋๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ฏฟ์ ์ ์๋ค๋ ํ์ ์ผ๋ก ํ์ธํฌ๋ฅผ ๋ ธ๋ ค๋ดค๋ค. ์์ ์ ๋ซ์ด์ง๊ฒ ๋ฐ๋ผ๋ณด๋ ๊น๊ณ ๊ฒ์ ๋๋์์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ฌ์ฅ์ด ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ๋ฐ๋ฉฐ ๋ชธ์ด ์์ฐ์์ฐํด ๋๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋๊ผ๋ค. "๊ฒฐ์ ํ์ด?" ๊ทธ์ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ฌด๊ฒ์ง๋ ๊ฐ๋ณ์ง๋ ์๊ฒ ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์จ๋ชธ์ ๊ฐ์๋ค. "๋ค. ๊ฒฐ์ ํ์ต๋๋ค." ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์ถ๋ฉฐ ์ต๋ํ ์นจ์ฐฉํ๊ฒ ๋๋ตํ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฌ์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ํผ์ ์์์ ํฐ๋จ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๊ฒ์ง๋ก ๊ฐ๋ณ๊ฒ ์ฑ ์์ ๋๋๋ ธ๋ค. "์ด๋ฆฌ ์." ์ ์ ์ ๊ผญ ๊นจ๋ฌธ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์๋ฆฌ์์ ๊ฟ์ ๋ ํ์ง ์์๋ค. "ํด์ฌํ๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์์?" ๋์์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ํ์ ์ธ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์ฌ๋ฌด์ค์ ์ธ๋ ธ๊ณ ์์ผ๋ก ๊น์ ํ์จ์ ๋ด์ฐ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๊ฒฝ๊ณ ๊ฐ๋ํ ๋ชจ์ต์ผ๋ก ๊ทธ์๊ฒ ๊ฐ๊น์ด ๋ค๊ฐ๊ฐ๋ค. ์ต์ํ๊ณ ๋ ํฌ๊ทผํ ๊ทธ์ ํฅ์๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์์ง๋ง ์จ ๋งํ๋ ๋๋์ ์ง์ธ ์ ์์๋ค. ํ์ธํฌ์ ์กฐ์ฌ์ค๋ฌ์ด ๋ชจ์ต์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ฐธ์ง ๋ชปํ๊ณ ์์์ ํฐ๋จ๋ ธ๋ค. ๊ฐ์งํ์ ํ์์๋ ์๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ด์ด ์์ง ์๋ ํธ์ด์๋ค. ๊ธฐ๊ปํด์ผ ์ ๊ผฌ๋ฆฌ๋ง ๋น์ค๋ฌํ ์ฌ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋ฏธ์๋ง ์ง์ ๋ฟ. ๊ทธ๋ฌ๋ ๊ทธ์ ์ผ๊ตด์ ๋ฒ์ง ๋ฏธ์๋ ๊ทธ์ ์ธ์งข์ ๊ธฐ๋ถ์ ์ค๋ช ํ๊ณ ๊ทธ๊ฒ์ ๊ณง ๋ค๊ฐ์ฌ ํญํ์ ์ ์ผ์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์๋ชฉ์ ์์ผ์ก์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ด ๋ ๊น๋ฐํ ์ฌ์ด์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ฅผ ์ง๋ฌด์ฑ ์ ์์ ๋๋ฅด๊ณ ๊ฐ๋งํ ๋ด๋ ค๋ค๋ดค๋ค. ์๋ฐฑ ์์ฒ์ต ๊ท๋ชจ์ ๊ณ์ฝ ์๋ฅ๊ฐ ๋ฐ๋ฅ์ ๋จ์ด์ก์ง๋ง ์๋ฌด๋ ์ ๊ฒฝ ์ฐ์ง ์์๋ค...... ...... ==== 3๋ ๋์ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋น์๋ก, ๋น๋ฐ ์ ์ธ์ผ๋ก ๊ณ์ ์์ด์๋ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ๋จ์๊ฐ ๊ฒฐํผํ๋ค๋ ์์๊ณผ ํจ๊ป ์ด ๊ด๊ณ๋ ๋๋ด๊ณ ์ถ์๋ค. ํ์ง๋ง... ์ ๊ณ์ ๋ถ์ก๊ณ ๋์์ฃผ์ง ์๋ ๊ฑธ๊น? ์ด์ด์ง๋ ๊ฐ์งํ์ ๋ถ๋๋ฌ์๊ณผ ์ ๋งค ๊ฐ๋ํ ๋๊ธธ์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ํท๊ฐ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ ์์ํ๋ฉฐ ์ ์ ์์ ์ ์ ํ๊ณผ ๋ง์์ ์ ์ ์๊ฒ ๋์๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฐ๋ฐ ๊ทธ ๋. ํ์ธํฌ๊ฐ ์์ ์ ํ๋ค. ์ฌํด์ง๋ ์ ๋ง์, ๊ฐ์งํ์ ์ง์ฐฉ์, ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ํ์์ค๋ฌ์ด ์๋ง์ ์๋ฐ์ ํ์ธํฌ๋ ์ ์ ์ ๋ง์์ผ๋ก ๋น ์ ธ๋ค๊ฒ ๋์๊ณ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๊ณ ํต์์์ ์ฌ๋ผ์ก๋ค...... ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ป๊ฒ ์ค์ค๋ก๋ฅผ ๊ตฌ์ํ๊ณ ๋ฐ๊ฒฉํ ๊ฒ์ธ๊ฐ์? ์์ผ๋ก๋ ์ด๋ค ์ ๊ฐ๊ฐ ํผ์ณ์ง๊น์? ์์ ํ ์คํ ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ฆ๊ธฐ๊ณ ์ถ์ผ์๋ค๋ฉด ์๋์ ๋ฒํผ์ ๋๋ฌ App์ ๋ค์ด๋ก๋ ๋ฐ์ผ์ธ์. (App์ ์คํ ์ ์๋์ผ๋ก ์ด๋ ์ค์ธ ์ด ์ํ์ผ๋ก ์คํตํฉ๋๋ค) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/56913436-fb_contact-k | Loving reading | https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/ | 430 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/56913436-fb_contact-kra168_2-1115-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1129349344803415&rawadid=120211454119920284 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467424455_2382750565399096_6349980219627843731_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WC8o_qly_r0Q7kNvgEi34_6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM1wcrfLtZgdjcFVtmo2J6t&oh=00_AYBWegQu0zOjMizZyTJmLG1DouTWUzsFl7o4aBvbpGfktg&oe=674D862D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Loving reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-27 18:49 | active | 1930 | 0 | Dr. Kellyann &ME Peri + Menopause | ๐ 88% Of Women In User Group Felt Improvement In Fatigue Levels* ๐ 83% Of Women In User Group Felt Improvement In Mood Levels* ๐ 83% Of Women In User Group Felt Improvement in Sleep Quality* ๐ 82% Of Women In User Group Experienced Improvement in Brain Fog* ๐ 72% Of Women In User Group Experienced Improvement In Weight Management | LEARN_MORE | https://drkellyann.com/products/peri-menopause?var | DrKellyann | https://www.facebook.com/drkellyann/ | 209,561 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | drkellyann.com | VIDEO | https://drkellyann.com/products/peri-menopause?variant=40555395874929 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468614194_456708540778812_1512125878645458943_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UrhSxCImfoYQ7kNvgEKgl-4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AuHZWTwYZxq9Tdm01y82-Zx&oh=00_AYBslg-aXH7q_UYwXgbj9gY9L4ACrdrVDOh3RAFZiPPgAQ&oe=674D7966 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | DrKellyann | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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