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Yes 2025-03-03 18:55 active 2790 0 Hailey is cash-strapped and desperate for a way to pay her mother's heafty medical bills. Her family agrees to help her, on the condition she marries the billionaire Samuel Trent, whom is in a coma after a near-fatal car accident. However, it wouldn't be long before the infamous Samuel Trent would wake up from his coma and discover he's engaged to a complete stranger. WATCH_MORE https://w2a.reelshort.com/w2a/booksAdvPageV2/?book Love to watch https://www.facebook.com/61558962235254/ 7,614 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Watch more 0 w2a.reelshort.com VIDEO https://w2a.reelshort.com/w2a/booksAdvPageV2/?book_id=678df762ecd01d2a7a0c77e3&chapterId=smz4q7xdnb&chapterIndex=1&mediaType=fb&px=25247865436%253A1813&push_type=2&book_type=1&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481007545_7742479352543267_1848055961468220324_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VNqy-3Sz8tsQ7kNvgEx91TE&_nc_oc=AdiCoEA_klIen8p74cl5bvFwSxv2YIo95NfgHNEwy45GMddMz3a1o4vVW8n46jPZMoAArmZvqmkXCaLWtx_RtdJh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A-YziMvQIJ-rrjZVh7i1rnn&oh=00_AYCVJpx59kMHMg66tHwwVvLB1C8hzZpTCoZxQdMBQPj2uQ&oe=67CC02DB PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Love to watch 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ˜Read More Chapters๐Ÿ‘‰ "Ah!" In the hotel room, Joanna Skeldon screamed in shock, her hands instinctively covering her body. She was completely naked, with bruises over some parts of her body, evidence of what had happened the night before. Her stockings were torn, the fabric riddled with holes. And lying beside her, still asleep, was a manโ€”Troy Ragnar. Even if Joanna were a fool, she could guess what had happened. "You jerk! I'll kill you!" Joanna kicked at the man beside her, rage building inside her. With a loud thud, Troy fell off the bed, startled awake. He blinked, looking around in confusion. Where was he? How had he ended up in a hotel room? His mind raced back to the events of the previous night. Troy had left home three years ago. He had just got back to Silverton yesterday and was thinking about relaxing with a drink at a bar. He vaguely remembered drinking a lot with a woman, but the rest of the night was a blur. "I'm gonna make you regret this!" Suddenly, a noise came from behind him. Troy turned, eyes widening in surprise. Joanna, still on the bed, was lifting her leg to kick him in the face. "Damn! What's with you, lady?" Troy dodged to the side, his eyes landing on her. His breath caught in his throat. She was stunning. Her face was a flawless combination of elegance and cold beauty. Her body, fully exposed, was enough to make anyone's pulse race. Her legs, long and shapely, were covered in torn stockings, and Troy's mind went into overdrive. He quickly tried to calm the heat rising within him and managed a wry smile. "Come on, gorgeous. Last night was a mutual thing. Why are you so mad?" Joanna's eyes widened with fury. "Mutual? Who are you kidding? You took advantage of me while I was drunkโ€ฆ You jerk!" She kicked again, but Troy caught her leg mid-air with a grin. "We've already crossed that line, sweetheart. I'm your man now, so how about you show me a little respect?" "Let go of me!" "Then promise me you'll stop making a scene." "Who's making a scene? My fiancรฉ is coming back today, and here you areโ€ฆ" Joanna's voice caught, her eyes reddening. "Your fiancรฉ?" Troy's expression shifted, a strange look crossing his face. He was also supposed to be looking for his fiancรฉe. Small world. He sighed, trying to smooth things over. "Okay, okay, let me make it up to you. Don't be so angry." "Make it up to me? Who do you think you are?" Joanna's face twisted with contempt, and she lunged at him again. This time, Troy didn't hesitate. He pulled Joanna into his arms, and before she could resist, they both tumbled onto the bed. Joanna was beneath him, and their bodies were pressed tightly together. He could feel her soft skin against his, and despite the situation, his breath hitched. Joanna's face turned crimson with embarrassment and rage. "Get off me!" "Last night, you weren't exactly acting like this, babe." Joanna froze. "What do you mean?" "Last night, you were loud, and you offered to put on those stockings. It felt really good." "You're lying!" Troy smirked. "If you don't believe me, that's your problem. Oh, and by the way, you wouldn't let me use protection." Joanna's face went pale, and her voice trembled. "Y-You didn't use protection?" "Nope, you wouldn't let me." Joanna's fists rained down on him, tears choking her words. "You animal! What if I get pregnant? What am I supposed to do then? Gah, I hate you!" Troy gently lifted Joanna's chin, his gaze serious. "I'm not the type to run away from responsibility. I'll take care of you if that happens." "Take care of me? What makes you think you're worthy? Do you even know who I am?" "Who are you?" A single tear fell from Joanna's eye, her voice breaking as she said, "Let me go. If you keep this a secret, I won't press charges." "You sure I don't need to take responsibility?" "You're not worthy!" With that, Joanna shoved Troy off and stood up without a word before she started getting dressed. Soon, she was fully dressed, her eyes red as she threw a card from her purse at him. Coldly, she said, "One million. Take it and leave." "One million for a little fun? Well, I'll be sure to keep this." Troy slipped the card into his pocket with a grin. Joanna's expression turned to disgust. She had thought he had some backbone, but instead, he was just a greedy little man. Without a second glance, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. The room fell silent again. Troy squinted, lifting the bed sheets. When he saw the bloodstains, his expression changed. Oh, so it was her first time. He sighed heavily. Coming back to Silverton had clearly gotten him into a fling with a girlโ€ฆ Suddenly, his phone rang. He picked it up, and Draco's respectful voice came through. "Ragnarok, we're waiting for you downstairs at the hotel." "I'll be right down." "Understood." Downstairs, dozens of Rolls-Royces were parked in a row beside the hotel. A group of men in black suits waited with the utmost respect. Joanna, now driving out of the parking lot, saw the scene and was immediately struck with shock. Wasn't that Draco Bowman from Silverton's Rubinton Chamber of Commerce? What kind of person could possibly have someone like him waiting for them? After a moment of contemplation, she got out of her car and walked over to Draco. Curious, yet polite, she asked, "Mr. Bowman, what are you doing here?" Draco looked at her and smiled. "Ah, Ms. Skeldon. I'm just waiting for someone." Joanna froze, surprise spreading across her face. It was rare to see Draco this respectful. Who was important enough for him to act this way? Before she could ask further, Troy appeared, casually walking out with a cigarette in his mouth. Chapter 2 Joanna's gaze locked onto Troy, and her brows furrowed instantly. Not this guy again! Just the thought of what had happened between them the night before made her heart ache with a bitter mix of frustration and shame. Troy saw Joanna and grinned. "What's wrong? Changed your mind and want me to take responsibility?" Joanna's face stiffened for a moment before she shot back coldly, "I'd rather die than have you take responsibility. Please watch your words from now on." Troy teased with a smirk, "Come on, don't be so cruel. We had a one-nightโ€”" "Shut up!" Joanna's face flushed with anger. She couldn't stand to be near him for another second. Turning to Draco, she quickly said, "Mr. Bowman, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. I'll pay you a visit another time." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and quickly headed to her car, eager to escape. Troy watched her drive off, shaking his head. "What a temper. I told her I'd take responsibility." Draco stood frozen, his mouth agape in shock. If what he was hearing was true, had Troy and Joanna really slept together? There were so many stunning young women from Vesenia's most elite families, yet Troy had been with someone like Joanna from Silverton? While Joanna wasn't lacking in beauty, her background was nowhere near as prestigious. Draco didn't dare ask further questions. "Ragnarok, may I suggest we head to the car now for a chat?" Troy nodded, getting into the car. Draco immediately signaled for everyone else to leave, then joined Troy in the vehicle, taking the driver's seat. Meanwhile, as Joanna's car sped away, her mind was still seething with anger. Just thinking about Troy made her skin crawl. By the way, she'd forgotten to ask Draco earlierโ€”who exactly had he been waiting for? Curious, she glanced into her rearview mirror, hoping to find some clue. Her eyes widened in confusion. The area by the hotel was completely empty. Where had everyone gone? Draco and Troy were both gone. Joanna's heart skipped a beat. She suddenly slammed on the brakes, her mind racing. Wait a second. Could Draco have been waiting for that guy? The thought hit her like a wave, and her face drained of color. But no... It couldn't be. She was certain Draco had been waiting for someone very important, someone with a prestigious status. Troy didn't look like he had that kind of background. She shook her head, trying to calm herself. She figured she was overthinking. That guy seemed too ordinary to be someone of any real importance. Just as she was trying to settle her thoughts, her phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, she quickly answered, "Hello, Grandpa. What's going on?" On the other end of the line, an excited voice echoed. "Joanna, I heard your fiancรฉ has arrived in Silverton! You need to come back right away and visit his family!" Joanna's pupils dilated, her heartbeat quickening as her voice trembled. "Grandpa, I'll head back immediately!" "Good, hurry up! Your fiancรฉ has nine marriage contracts, and you need to get there before any other families beat you to it!" "I understand! I'm on my way!" Without another word, Joanna slammed her foot on the gas, speeding away. Meanwhile, inside the Rolls-Royce, Draco asked, "Ragnarok, would you like to stop by the Rubinton Chamber of Commerce first, or...?" "Take me home first. I want to spend some time with my family." "Of course." As the car glided smoothly down the road, Draco glanced at the rearview mirror, then exclaimed in surprise, "Ragnarok, have you grown stronger?" "Yes, but I still have a lingering injury. Silverton is known for its medicinal herbs. After we're done, help me find some." "Understood!" Draco sighed softly. "Ragnarok, if it weren't for those people who plotted against you back then, you'd be..." Troy's dark eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing within them. When he fought against the foreign forces years ago, he had wiped out their strongest warriors. However, during that time, several factions took advantage of his injuries and used underhanded methods against him. He survived, but he was left with a lingering affliction. That was why he'd returnedโ€”to settle his mentor's old marriage contracts, heal his injuries using the herbs from Silverton, and finally uncover the identity of those who had sabotaged him back then. He already knew that one of those factions was lurking in Silverton. The Rolls-Royce soon reached a rundown neighborhood in the city. Troy's eyes softened with a hint of nostalgia. It had been three years since he left home. He wondered how his parents and sister were. As they approached his home, he instructed, "Pull over here. I just need to grab something from the store. Also, make sure word doesn't spread about my return. We don't want to alert anyone. I need to deal with this thoroughly." Draco nodded respectfully. "Of course, Ragnarok." Draco left the car, and Troy walked into a nearby shop to buy some health supplements before heading down a small alley toward his family's house. Just a few steps into the alley, he saw the old, familiar courtyard and felt his eyes well up. He wanted to tell his parents that their son was finally home after accomplishing something. When they were younger, their family had been poor and was always looked down upon. But from today, everything would change. He would give his parents and sister the life they deserved. He quickened his pace, but then froze in his tracks. Two figures were kneeling in front of his old home! Confused, he hurried forward, his frown deepening.Before she could ask further, Troy appeared, casually walking out with a cigarette in his mouth. Chapter 3 As Troy approached the two figures kneeling in front of him, his gaze fell on them. Two elderly people were bowing their heads, their hair gray and their bodies frail. Their clothes were tattered, patched up in several places, and gave off an unmistakable air of poverty and desperation. Troy furrowed his brow, his voice low as he asked, "Why are you two kneeling here?" The elderly pair slowly raised their heads. One was an old man, the other a woman. Their faces were marked by deep wrinkles, worn with years of hardship. The moment Troy saw their faces, a shockwave coursed through his body, leaving him frozen in place as if struck by lightning. In disbelief, he stared at the elderly couple, his hands shaking. The supplements he had been holding dropped to the ground with a soft thud. "Dad, Mom? How could it be you?!" he gasped. The elderly woman, her eyes filled with tears, looked at him in shock and whispered, "A-Are you Troy?" Troy's heart felt as though it had been stabbed. These were his parents! His eyes welled with tears as he crouched, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Dad, Mom, it's me... How could this happen to you?" "Troy?! It really is you! My son!" cried his mother, May Ragnar, her tears flowing freely as she hugged him tightly. Standing to the side, his father, Gordon Ragnar, also with tears in his eyes, added, "Troy, it's been three years. We've waited for you for so long. You're finally back!" The three of them clung to one another, crying uncontrollably. Troy wiped away their tears before helping them to their feet, his voice shaky as he asked, "Dad, Mom, what happened? Why are you kneeling out here?" "Let's go home, Troy. We'll tell you everything at home," May said through tears as she gently guided him toward their small house. Behind them, Gordon limped with a noticeable limp, and Troy's heart tightened. "Dad, what's wrong with your leg?" he asked urgently. Gordon forced a weak smile, trying to brush it off. "It's nothing, Troy. I just tripped and fell. Come on, let's get inside. You must be hungry. Let your mom make you meat stew." Troy stayed silent as they entered the house. His eyes were fixed on his father, and he finally whispered hoarsely, "Dad, Mom, why are you hiding things from me? Tell me, what's wrong with Dad's leg?" May and Gordon exchanged a glance, and after a moment of hesitation, May began to cry. "Gordan, maybe it's time we tell Troy." Gordon remained silent, his eyes red-rimmed with pain. May, struggling to control her tears, finally spoke, "Troy, I'll tell you what happened, but promise me you'll be calm." "Okay, Mom, I promise." May wiped her tears and explained, "Your father's leg... It was broken when someone hit him with a car on purpose." Troy shot up to his feet, his eyes wide with rage. "A car accident? Who did this?!" May cried, shaking her head. "Troy, please don't ask. For now, it's enough that you're back. We just want to live peacefully, together as a family." Troy held his mother's arms tears brimming in his eyes. "Mom! As a son, how can I just sit here and do nothing while I watch Dad suffer like this? Please, tell me who did this." May's tears flowed freely as she clung to him. "Oh, Troy, my dear," she sobbed. After some time, Troy managed to calm her down, and she finally spoke through her tears. "It was someone from Silverton's Dragonfold Incorporated. They're in charge of the demolition here, but they saw us as an easy target and have been taking advantage of us. They offered other families 1,700 dollars per square meter, but for us, they only offered 450! "When we refused to sell, Dragonfold Incorporated started harassing us. Two months ago, they sent people to deliberately break your father's leg." The fury in Troy's eyes was unmistakable. "Dragonfold Incorporated... They will pay for this!" he vowed under his breath. He took a deep breath, his voice steady yet filled with intensity. "Why didn't you report it to the police?" Gordon gave a bitter laugh, eyes filled with regret. "We did report it, but the police are in league with Dragonfold. We're poor, Troy, and we have no one to turn to." Troy closed his eyes, a cold fire burning deep in his soul. He was determinedโ€”he would make them pay for this injustice. He took a moment to gather himself, then asked, "And why were you two kneeling in front of the house?" May wiped her tears away, her voice hoarse. "Troy... Dragonfold made us. They told us to kneel outside for three days. If we didn't, they'd send people to break your sister's legs, too. They said that was the price for not agreeing to the demolition." Troy's vision blurred with fury, his heart aching with guilt. His family had been enduring such cruelty while he was away, and it burned inside him like wildfire. Troy swore to destroy Dragonfold Incorporated, leaving none alive. His fists clenched, voice strained. "Mom, Dad, will they be coming today?" May's face flashed with fear before she lowered her gaze. "Today is the second day. Tomorrow will be the third, so they'll come tomorrow." Troy's teeth gritted in rage, his whole body trembling with fury. "We'll be ready for them. They broke Dad's leg, and I'll make them all pay!" May's eyes widened in concern. "Troy, you can't go up against Dragonfold. They're not people we can afford to offend. Please, don't do anything rash. We should hide tomorrow." Troy gave a short, firm nod. "I'll handle it. Don't worry. I have a plan." Just then, his phone buzzed with a message. He glanced at it, surprised to see a message from Draco. The text said that all nine of his fiancรฉes from Silverton's Nine Great Families were on their way to the house! Troy's eyes narrowed. He had been planning to visit them one by one in the coming days, but it seemed they were more eager than he anticipated. A smile crept onto his face as an idea formed in his mind. He could have all nine fiancรฉes come over at once, letting his parents see them and hopefully ease their worries. "Mom, I have some good news for you," Troy said, grinning. May blinked in surprise. "Good news? What is it, Troy?" Troy's grin widened. "Your daughter-in-law will be coming over soon." May's eyes went wide in shock. "Daughter-in-law? Troy, you're dating someone?" Troy chuckled. "Not just dating, Mom. I have a marriage contract with them! You and Dad just stay here; they'll be here any minute." Gordon was utterly confused. "Troy, what do you mean by 'they'? What's going on?" Troy smiled and briefly explained the events of the past few yearsโ€”how he had been sent to the mountains by his mentor to study, and how, after he returned, his mentor had arranged nine marriage contracts for him. May and Gordon were speechless. Their son had gone off to the mountains to learn, and now, not only had he returned, but he also had nine fiancรฉes! Troy grinned. "Mom, Dad, when they arrive, you'll have to help me pick the most beautiful one." May froze for a second, but then her eyes filled with joy, her face glowing with pride. "Oh, my goodness! Gordon, don't just stand thereโ€”let's go change into something nice! We can't meet our son's fiancรฉes like this! We can't embarrass him." Gordon immediately realized he was underdressed. Without hesitation, he pushed himself up with his cane, his movements unsteady but determined. Standing nearby, Troy took in the scene, a dull ache spreading in his chest. His throat tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. "Dad, Mom, you don't need to change. And don't worry about what people think. Those women are the ones lining up to marry meโ€”who would dare say you're embarrassing me?" May's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she managed a smile. "Troyโ€ฆ No matter what, it's their first time visiting. Let us freshen up a little." With that, she gently took Gordon's arm, guiding him back inside. Troy watched them shuffle away, their steps slow and frail. The sight squeezed at his heart, leaving a lump in his throat. His heart ached as he realized how much his parents had suffered during the three years he was away. Now that he was back, he was determined to give them the peaceful, comfortable life they deserved. Before long, his parents emerged in freshly changed clothes. Troy's heart swelled with emotion at the sight of them. The clothes were faded and patched, but they were the best they had. Just then, a group of neighbors walked by and stopped when they saw Troy in the yard. "Mrs. Ragnar, is that Troy? He's back?" one of them asked in surprise. May smiled proudly, her chest puffing out. "Yes! Troy is back! We're waiting to see our daughter-in-law. Troy has caught the attention of several girls, and they'll be here soon. We're going to help him pick the best one!" A few neighbors raised their eyebrows skeptically. One of them snickered, "Mrs. Ragnar, your family's not exactly well-off. How could any girl be interested in Troy?" Another added, "My son graduated from a prestigious university, works at a big company, and still can't find a girlfriend. I don't believe your Troy could be so lucky." May blushed, embarrassed. "I-I'm not lying. Troy wouldn't fool us." Troy, with a small smile, said, "Ladies, if you have nothing else to do, feel free to stay and watch. You can help me pick the best one." He knew his family had suffered in silence these past few years, likely looked down upon by the neighbors. Today, he would make sure his parents could hold their heads up high. The neighbors, curious to see what would happen next, stepped into the yard. One of them called out with a smirk, "Troy, don't pull our leg. If you're just joking, better tell us now, or you'll be the one embarrassed." "Yeah," another one chimed in. "These are different times. Based on your family background, I think you're destined to die alone. I doubt anyone would want to marry into such a poor family!" As they continued to banter, Troy could sense that many of them were waiting for him to fail. However, he was determined not to disappoint his parents. An hour passed. Impatience began to stir among the neighbors, and murmurs filled the air. "Troy, where are the people you said would show up? Why aren't they here yet?" "Yeah! If you're lying, just admit it already. We're neighborsโ€”there's no need to put on a show." "Exactly! Our kids are all doing better than you, and none of them have found a wife yet. How could you find someone?" Gordon and May's faces flushed with embarrassment. They wanted to argue back, but all they could do was silently endure the teasing from the neighbors. Troy, too, frowned slightly. Where were they? Why hadn't anyone shown up yet? As the tension began to rise, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside the courtyard. It was the sound of high heels clicking on the ground. Troy's heart skipped a beat. Could it finally be time to meet his nine fiancรฉes? The footsteps grew closer, closer... And then, the courtyard door was pushed open. A graceful, noble figure stepped through, as if walking out of a dream. The chatter in the courtyard halted in an instant. All eyes turned toward the figureโ€”everyone froze, struck dumb with disbelief. Troy's gaze widened in astonishment. He had thought his mentor was lying when the latter said his fiancรฉes were all beautiful women, but this woman was beyond anything he had imagined. She was breathtakingโ€”unbelievably stunning, like something out of a legend. She looked like she could make men fall head over heels for her with just a single glance. Frankly, she was more beautiful than any of the top actresses on television by a factor of ten, or even a hundred. Even Gordon and May, who had seen many women in their lives, were left speechless. They had never laid eyes on someone so exquisite. The neighbors, too, were visibly stunned. Her beauty left them in awe. Troy inhaled deeply, stepping forward to greet her. But the woman's piercing gaze met his, her flawless face as cold as ice. She then spat icily, "You're Troy?" Chapter 4 Troy furrowed his brows, feeling a twinge of discomfort at the cold, arrogant tone in the woman's voice. Just as he was about to speak, May stood up beside him, her eyes filled with excitement and tears. "Troy, is this really our daughter-in-law? She's absolutely gorgeous!" Gordon's face lit up with a proud smile, his eyes reddening slightly. "Troy, we're blessed! Finding a woman like this... The rest of the family is going to be so proud!" May wiped away her tears, quickly turning to Gordon. "Honey, go get some water for the lady. I'll bring out the chairs." Gordon, with effort, leaned on his cane and made his way toward the house, his face beaming with joy. May hurried inside, grabbed a few chairs, and rushed back to where the woman stood. With a polite, almost fawning smile, she said, "Sweetheart, I found you a chair. Please, sit down." The woman gave May a long, cold stare, her eyes narrowing as she scanned May from head to toe. Without saying a word, her face grew increasingly colder, her brow furrowing deeper. May, feeling a bit flustered, quickly wiped off the seat with her sleeve, smiling even more ingratiatingly. "I've cleaned the chairs, dear. You can sit. Don't stand for too long." Before she could say more, the woman shot her a look of utter disdain, voice sharp and biting. "Take this filthy thing away. It reeks!" The entire courtyard fell into stunned silence. May's smile instantly froze on her face. Gordon, who was holding the water, stopped in his tracks, equally stunned. May's face flushed with embarrassment, shifting from red to white. She forced a smile and tried to explain, "Sweetheart, I promise I cleaned it. It's not dirty." The woman's icy glare shifted to Gordon, her expression hardening as she stretched out her hand and slapped the water right out of his grasp. It shattered on the ground with a loud crash. Then, she coldly addressed them both. "Who gave you the right to call me your 'dear' or 'sweetheart'? You overestimated yourselves! You should take a good look in the mirror sometime. Do you see how pathetic you are? Poor, dirty, and disgustingโ€”you're so shameless!" Gordon and May stood frozen, speechless, their eyes beginning to water at the cruel words. The woman then turned her icy gaze to Troy, her face as cold as ever. "You're Troy?" Troy's smile, which had been present only moments before, faded without a trace, replaced by an icy, chilling demeanor. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, his vision blurring with rage as he rasped, "Yes. Why do you ask?" The woman looked Troy up and down, a mocking smile curling on her lips. "Wow, I've really been fooled these past couple of years! I thought you were someone important, but you're just a useless punk. A complete waste of space." She pulled out a marriage contract from her bag, and with a flick of her wrist, threw it at Troy's face. "This is for you. By the way, I'm Hannah Pierpoint, and I'm here to break the engagement." The courtyard fell into pin-drop silence. Everyone was stunned. The woman shot Troy a disgusted glance, her voice as cold as ice. "Don't blame me. You have no one to blame but yourself! We did some checking on the way here. You've got no background. You're just some lowlife, a worthless nobody. If I had known, I never would've agreed to the engagement in the first place. I'll give you some money as compensation, but you have to keep this quiet. It's a disgrace for me, and I'd rather forget this whole thing ever happened." The courtyard remained eerily still. Troy stood there, his fists tightening around the contract in his hand. It was a slap in the faceโ€”so sharp, so cruel. "So, she came all the way here just to break the engagement... This whole family really thought she wanted to marry Troy?" "Yeah, exactly! You can tell she'd never fall for someone like Troy. My son's a graduate of a prestigious college, and even he can't find a girl. Why would she want him?" "Look at them now! They were bragging earlier, and now their true colors are showing. They deserved it!" "Honestly, it's a little sad for Troy. He's a good kid, but he really doesn't have much to offer. No wonder she doesn't want him." The neighbors' voices began to rise with judgment, but Troy stood still with his fists tightened, his nails digging into his palm. May and Gordon lowered their heads, tears welling in their eyes. Their son hadn't lied to them. He had a fiancรฉe. The harsh truth was, the woman didn't want anything to do with them because they were poor. May's eyes, already filled with tears, grew blurry as she trembled. Without warning, she sank to her knees. Troy's heart clenched in pain, his eyes filled with fiery anguish. "Mom, what are you doing? Get up, please!" May, still kneeling, looked up at Hannah with tearful eyes. "Please, I beg you. Don't break the engagement. Troy may not have money, but he's a good kid. He's honest, hardworking, and will treat you right. Please, don't break off the engagement." "Mom, please, get up!" Troy tried to help May up, but she wiped her tears, still speaking through her sobs. "Troy, this is our fault. If your father and I were more capable, this wouldn't have happened. It's our fault she doesn't want you." Troy's heart was breaking. His eyes were red, and with a hoarse voice, he whispered, "Mom, it's not your fault. Please, just get up." May, still kneeling before Hannah, grabbed her hand desperately. "Please, I beg you... Give my son a chance. Please." Hannah recoiled, her face twisted with disgust. She violently jerked her hand away from May. "Get away from me, you filthy old hag! You stink! Have some dignity!" Troy's eyes turned ice-cold, and he locked his gaze on Hannah. "Who are you calling an old hag?" Hannah shivered under his stare, struck by a sudden wave of fear. His eyes were like ice, chilling her to the bone. Her face paled, but she stood her ground, sneering. "I'm talking about your mother. Not only is she old, but she's also a filthy beggar! All of you are disgustingโ€”poor and miserable!" The moment those words left her lips, Troy's expression twisted with rage. An overwhelming, suffocating coldness surrounded him. The very air seemed to have turned to ice. His anger erupted like a storm. In an instant, he was right in front of Hannah, his hand reaching for her throat with terrifying speed. "How dare you insult my parents! You're asking for it!" Chapter 5 Just as Troy was about to strike, May, with tears in her eyes, rushed forward and stopped him. Troy looked down to see his mother's weathered, tear-streaked face. His voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Mom..." "Troy, please listen to me," May pleaded, her voice trembling. "Don't do anything rash. Please, I'm begging you." Troy's raised hand slowly dropped, and his eyes grew red as he fought back the pain. Seeing his mother like this made his heart ache, his insides twisting with unbearable pain. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice breaking as he said, "Mom, I promise you, I've made something of myself. I'm capable now. You don't have to worry." May's voice cracked as she sobbed, "Troy, it's alright. Our family doesn't have much. It's understandable the girl wouldn't want to be with you because of us. Please, don't be impulsive. Just talk to her. Maybe she'll give you a chance." She turned to Hannah, but before she could speak further, Hannah coldly spat, "You're wasting your breath! I'm not giving this failure a chance! Let me make it clear. I'm the daughter of the Pierpoints, one of the Nine Great Families of Silverton. And you?" She sneered, her eyes scanning Troy dismissively. "You're from humble beginnings with no power, no influence! Look at your family, and look at yourself. Do you really think you're good enough for me?" May staggered back, her face filled with shock. She couldn't believe the woman in front of her was the daughter of the Pierpoints, one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in Silverton. Everyone had heard of them. The neighbors in the courtyard exchanged whispers, their voices filled with awe and disbelief. "She's the daughter of the Pierpoints?! No wonder she looks down on Troy... That's one powerful family!" "Exactly! The Pierpoints are worth billions! How could someone like Troy stand a chance?" "Right? She's clearly out of his league! Who does he think he is?" Troy stood motionless, his eyes locked on Hannah as she continued her cruel tirade. Her tone dripped with superiority as she sneered at him. "Do you hear that? The difference between you and me is like the difference between the sky and the earth! You'll never be good enough for someone like me, and you think you can lay a hand on me? Do you even know how much influence the Pierpoints have? If you dare touch me, I'll wipe out your family in an instant! Don't test me." Hannah stood tall, her head held high in arrogance as she glared at Troy. Troy's hands clenched into fists, his body tense with barely contained rage. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as he slowly spoke, his voice cold and deliberate. "You're just from the Pierpoints. Do you really think you're something special? In my eyes, you're no better than ants. Do you know who helped you rise to where you are? It was my mentor! I agreed to this engagement because I thought your family would be grateful. I was even prepared to protect you all. Instead of showing gratitude, you throw my mentor's kindness aside and humiliate my parents. You dare threaten to destroy my family. The Pierpoints will pay for this." Troy's anger erupted like a storm, his presence overwhelming. His glare cut through Hannah like a blade, sending a chill down her spine. Hannah sneered, trying to remain composed despite her fear. "You're nothing, a mere speck of dust! My family can crush you with a single finger. Why would the Pierpoints ever need your protection? Look in the mirror! I can end you with a single slap! Who do you think you are?" Troy's gaze suddenly turned icy cold, sharp and menacing, like the edge of a blade poised to strike. Hannah's body stiffenedโ€”she felt as if she had just become the target of a ferocious wild beast's glare. Her breath caught in her throat as she stumbled back a few steps, her voice trembling with fear. "Wh-what do you think you're doing? Don't make a move! I-I have bodyguards! Touch me, and my family will kill you!" "Kill me? Do you think you have what it takes?" Troy's eyes were filled with a chilling coldness. At that moment, the anger that had been boiling inside him could no longer be contained. He took a step forward; at that exact moment, the bodyguards behind Hannah moved to block his path. Hannah, her voice rising in panic and fury, screamed, "Go! Kill him!" The elite guards, trained and experienced, rushed toward Troy. Yet, he didn't hesitate. With a swift motion, his body moved like lightning, and in an instant, he was among them. Troy slapped two of the burly bodyguards across the face, sending them flying across the yard with sickening force. Their bodies crashed into the ground, blood pouring from their faces as they crumpled, unconscious. The remaining guards hesitated for just a moment, but that was all it took. Troy was upon them again, his movements a blur. His legs swept out like lightning, knocking them one by one out of the yard. They tumbled to the ground, spewing out blood while groaning in pain. Hannah stood frozen, her face pale. She couldn't believe what had just happened. The Pierpoints' top-tier bodyguards, all trained to handle threats ten men each, had been taken down in mere seconds. She turned to flee, but before she could move, Troy's voice froze her in her tracks. "Where do you think you're going?" He appeared in front of her in the blink of an eye, his expression grim. His hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat. Hannah's eyes bulged in fear, her voice choked with terror. "L-Let go of me!" "Let go of you?" Troy's voice was dripping with mockery. "Didn't you say you'd wipe out my family?" His eyes were filled with bitter contempt as his hand swung swiftly, landing a sharp slap across her face. She screamed in agony, her once-beautiful face now bruised and bloody, her nose gushing red. Half of her face began to swell and distort. "I-I'll kill you!" she shrieked. "Kill me?" Troy's voice was cold, his eyes narrowed. "Do you think you're in a position to threaten me?" Without warning, he slapped her again, the force of it making her stagger. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth as her face bloomed in purple and red. "Y-You..." "What?" Troy's voice was laced with indifference. With a sudden motion, his hand swung again, striking her with brutal force several more times. Hannah was left a mess, blood splattering from her mouth as her body swayed, barely able to stand. Troy let go of her with a flick of his wrist, his gaze as cold as ice, like the glare of a predator about to pounce. He looked down at her with the disdain of a conqueror, speaking each word slowly and deliberately. "You're just a Pierpoint. Who gave you the audacity to act like you're a queen? That's the price you pay for insulting my parents," he added coldly before turning his back on her. Hannah collapsed to the ground, trembling in pain and shock, her face a mess of blood. The courtyard fell silent, the neighbors stunned into disbelief. May and Gordon stood frozen, their faces pale, tears brimming in their eyes. May, teary-eyed, was unable to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Did her son just hit the heiress of the Pierpoints? Troy's voice broke the silence, calm and resolute. "This engagement is canceled, but the Pierpoints have no say in it. You have no right to cancel our marriage. It's my decision. I am ending this!" He turned his cold gaze on Hannah. "Now scram." He spoke with such authority, sending shivers into everyone nearby. Hannah pressed her trembling hand against her face, still seething with hatred. Her voice was bitter as she spoke, her words laced with venom, "Do you think you can get away with this? You'll regret it! The Pierpoints will never forget this!" Troy didn't flinch. "I've never cared for the Pierpoints. Now get out of my sight." Hannah's lips trembled as she bit down, drawing blood. Inside, a storm of fury and hatred raged. Why was he so confident, so arrogant? Why wasn't he afraid of the Pierpoints? Did he not understand what the Pierpoints were capable of? Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Hannah suddenly sneered as her eyes flashed with rage, her voice filled with venom, "So what if you hit me? So what if you act all tough? You're still nothing! You'll always be beneath them. No one will ever respect you! Even if you kill me today, no one will ever marry you!" Troy narrowed his eyes, his expression cold. "Is that so? How do you know no one would marry me? We'll see about that." Hannah pressed her hand against her swollen face, her glare filled with hatred. Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from outside the courtyard. The next moment, several striking figures stepped into the courtyard at once. With a sharp motion, a few marriage contracts were thrown toward the group, and a cold voice rang out. "The Sommers hereby annuls your engagement, you useless waste of space! This matter is never to be mentioned again!" "The Xaviers are also calling off this marriage. From this day on, Troy, we have no further ties!" "The Grahams are also withdrawing from the engagement!" "The Chadwicks are calling off the marriage too!" "The Stones are nullifying this engagement as well, and severing all ties with Troy!" One after another, the voices echoed through the courtyard. Troy barely registered the rest of what was said. All he could hear was the recurring themeโ€”they were here to call off the engagements. So, everyone was breaking off the engagement now. Troy wondered whether they were quick to discard him because they saw that he had no power and status. The harshness of reality hit him. Looking at his parents' faces, filled with disappointment and sorrow, Troy felt his heart tremble. He had thought that coming back to choose his bride would be a way to boost his parents' social standing. Instead... He had become the punchline of a joke. Suddenly, a bitter laugh escaped him. So, this was what his "lovely" fiancรฉes were like. "Did you see that? No one wants to honor this marriage! It's because you're just too pathetic. You don't deserve us! We are the Nine Great Families! Your family has nothing! We're from different worlds, Troy. Accept it!" Hannah's voice rang out with a mocking laugh. Troy smiled grimly, realizing that today had truly become an embarrassment. At that moment, the sound of high heels echoed again from outside the courtyard. A voice followed, drifting into the roomโ€”clear and cold like a mountain stream, indifferent but steady. "I haven't arrived yet. Who says no one wants to honor this marriage? You all are at the height of power now, but had it not been for the help of Troy's mentor all those years ago, where would your families be? Even though he is of humble origins, the Skeldons still honor the agreement made long ago! This engagement is still valid. I accept it!" A wave of shock rippled through the room as everyone turned to look at the figure who had entered. Troy's gaze shifted toward her, and his heart slammed in his chest. It was...her. Chapter 6 Troy couldn't shake the image of her beautiful face from his mind. She was the woman who had lain beside him that very morning, the one who had spent the night with him. To his astonishment, she was in truth his fiancรฉe. His emotions were a whirlwind, mixed with confusion and a sense of fate playing its hand. He never expected it would be Joanna, let alone that she would actually stand up and honor their engagement. He could still recall her cold, distant demeanor from this morning. Yet here she was, standing before everyone, declaring their marriage pact. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind as he watched Joanna walk toward him, the soft fragrance of her presence filling the air. As she stood beside him, he could see a multitude of emotions flicker across her face, her eyes betraying a complexity he couldn't quite understand. On the way here, Joanna had received details about her fiancรฉ: his name, his photograph, and his background. When she learned who Troy really was, it felt like a thunderclap in her mind. Three years. For three years, she had believed that her fiancรฉ was someone extraordinary, a powerful and accomplished man. Not just her, but everyone around her thought the same. But the truth? Troy was far from the image she had imagined. His origins were humble, and he was so poor it was almost tragic. And the worst part? Troy was the same man who had taken her innocence that very morning. The same man who had appeared almost like a beggar, a rogue. As she made her way here, Joanna had felt a deep sense of despair. She even considered calling off the engagement. But once she overheard the conversation just outside the courtyard, her heart softened unexpectedly. Despite everything, something in her had melted. She could only imagine how difficult and humiliating it must have been for Troy inside that courtyard. Even without seeing the scene, she could feel his pain. It was this sense of compassion, coupled with her bond to him, that led her to speak the words she did as she entered the room. Now, standing before him, Joanna sighed softly. Her exhale carried a weight of emotionsโ€”sadness, frustration, and something deeper. Across from her, Hannah stared at Joanna in disbelief. She finally spoke, her tone mocking, "Joanna, are you out of your mind? Do you seriously plan to marry this Ragnar guy? Haven't you seen what family he comes from?" Joanna gave Hannah a cold glance before responding, her voice calm but firm, "I saw it. So what?" Hannah let out a sharp laugh, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The other women standing nearby joined in, all of them laughing with contempt. Hannah shook her head, her face twisted in derision as she said, "I think you've lost your mind! You actually want to marry this poor guy? You do realize that you're a joke, right?" "Is that so? I don't think I'm the joke here. I think you all are. You received kindness from his mentor, and you repay it with ungratefulness. Who says I'm the joke?" Joanna retorted, her gaze turning toward May and Gordon, who stood quietly in the background. A warm, affectionate smile spread across her face as she walked toward them. She reached out and gently took May's hand. "Mrs. Ragnar, it's so nice to meet you," Joanna said sweetly. "I'm Joanna Skeldon, Troy's fiancรฉe, and I'm honored to be your future daughter-in-law." May and Gordon froze, shocked by her words. A few seconds passed before May's tears started to flow. She clutched Joanna's hand tightly, overcome with emotion, and choked out, "Dearโ€ฆ Are you really willing to marry our Troy?" Joanna paused for a moment, her lips trembling slightly. She took a deep breath before replying softly, "Mrs. Ragnar, Troy and I are already engaged. I am his fiancรฉe, and I have always intended to marry him." Gordon, standing beside her with tears in his eyes, also reached out to hold Joanna's hand. His voice cracked with gratitude as he uttered, "Thank you... Thank you so much. On behalf of Troy, on behalf of the Ragnars, I thank you. If you marry Troy, it will be a great blessing for our family." He wiped his eyes and continued, his voice more steady now. "Troy is a good man. He will cherish you and never let you suffer. You have our word on that." Joanna's heart softened at the sight of the elderly couple, their faces etched with hardship and love. She sighed again, her smile gentle but tinged with sorrow. "Mr. and Mrs. Ragnar, please don't worry. Troy..." She hesitated for a moment, glancing at Troy, her gaze filled with mixed emotions. She continued, her voice calm but resolute, "No matter what happens, I'm willing to give him a chance." Troy looked at her deeply, his chest tightening with unspoken gratitude. Suddenly, a mocking laugh broke the silence. It was Hannah again, her tone dripping with scorn. "Joanna, you really are a fool! You may come from one of the Nine Great Families, but do you really want to marry a Ragnar? Doing that would be embarrassing for all of us. Honestly, you two might just be a perfect match. After all, the Skeldons are on their way out. Soon enough, your family will be forgotten. You can spend the rest of your miserable life with this trash." Troy's eyes flashed with anger as he turned toward Hannah. The cold fury in his gaze was like a sharp blade, and the moment she met his stare, Hannah shivered uncontrollably, her body trembling under the weight of his glare. Troy's voice was icy, every word laced with a venomous threat. "Watch your mouth, or I'll make sure you regret it. Try me." A few women who had joined the conversation earlier didn't know the true extent of Troy's power. One of them, a tall woman with silver hair and striking beauty, stepped forward. Her name was Susan Stone. She looked at Troy with disdain and asked coldly, "Ragnar, who do you think you are? Do you know who we are?" Troy's response was calm, almost uninterested. "Oh? And who might you be?" Susan sneered, her eyes narrowing. "Don't worry about who I am. I just want to tell you something: you need to know your place. You're just a poor boyโ€”don't act like you're someone special. And you, Joanna, I can't believe how shameless you are! You're actually honoring the engagement? How ridiculous!" She then turned her gaze to Joanna, a mocking smile curling on her lips. "Joanna, are you really this desperate for a man? Seems like you'd just accept anyone who comes along. You have no shame." Joanna's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her body trembled with barely contained fury. The words stung like a slap to the face, but she could find no immediate response. But Troy wasn't about to let it go. His eyes narrowed dangerously, his presence suddenly making the air around them drop to freezing temperatures. "What did you just say?" His voice was like a low growl as he locked eyes with Susan. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I said Joanna'sโ€”" Before she could finish, Troy moved with lightning speed, appearing in front of her in an instant. His hand shot out, landing a resounding slap across her face LEARN_MORE https://huncnapp.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=1888 Fantasy Hero Country https://www.facebook.com/61561117201220/ 2,314 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 huncnapp.com VIDEO https://huncnapp.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=18884&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/t39.35426-6/481668981_9286489684800739_7271717024363217971_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6tWO04Qn7wIQ7kNvgHl10hf&_nc_oc=Adj9qxJl5TYFuRzGaGHRH2m1M8Ask44hJSPGBfOiifdH-0_MaaSOYUTOBF4pqspRWr3W244oE7GsrAkZFhNxgEMB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6ntQ6xF2ZKxlX-DDGX1Ld-&oh=00_AYC48faP2KAxB6Nb4m04GmcxWRi52klvsH2ilZsTZFwMDQ&oe=67CC06C8 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Fantasy Hero Country 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:57 active 2790 0 New styles added at a price you'll love! Bestselling Dresses Now on Sale SHOP_NOW https://www.joyfolie.com/products/briley-dress-in- Joyfolie https://www.facebook.com/livejoyfolie/ 287,370 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Shop Now 0 joyfolie.com DCO Free Shipping on Orders Above $150 https://www.joyfolie.com/products/briley-dress-in-navy-1?_pos=2&_psq=briley&_ss=e&_v=1.0&variant=40674779037754 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480849757_9045439978915276_3055702032188706539_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4rPUcrIpGgkQ7kNvgF9MTvk&_nc_oc=AdhYriKiBp2Y2bB_DD95OMGfIy2vnuIb3egBw2qo0M2zlG8P9TWWeXgTY-kCB4XgJcPKmz-EjvnCjB5dghco2zK2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ABM6QbG4FnY6fzaa0vPuUHL&oh=00_AYBvPyyqxP7ymOHoS1QTWPFV54tpkIZnz1ZyjEwX6tPT2Q&oe=67CC17AC PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Joyfolie 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅNEW POPULAR READ๐Ÿ”ฅ โ€œYou really broke up with your boyfriend on Valentine's Day, Why? I mean, was he seeing another woman?โ€ โ€œTechnically, I was the other woman.โ€ I tilted back the shot of tequila down my throat, the liquid causing a shiver through me like lightning. โ€œWhat?!โ€ Bellaโ€™s outburst drew the attention of a few onlookers at the bar, which is exactly what I didn't want. I sigh, hoping that anybody who overhears is too drunk to remember what I just said. I leaned my elbows on the bar and dropped my chin in my hands. Not even the throbbing dance music could distract my brain from thinking what an idiot I was. That Valentine's Day was great. A romantic dinner, followed by an excellent intimate time. Iโ€™d spent the whole of last night wrapped in Jacksonโ€™s arms. It was a night more precious to me than anything, especially since he was always so busy with work. It was nice. Perfect. Until he got in the shower and his phone rang. I sat up and stared at the caller ID, a bit confused by the name. โ€˜Boss Ladyโ€™. I figured I might as well pick up the phone for him, because I know how seriously Jackson took his job. Heโ€™d always have to cut dates short due to it, so whatever it is, it must be important. โ€œThen I realized it was Jacksonโ€™s wife. Heโ€™s apparently in an โ€˜open marriageโ€™โ€ I told Bella, putting up air-quotations. โ€œHis wife even knew about me before I knew about her.โ€ Of course, Iโ€™m just summarizing everything to Bella to spare my own dignity. The woman sounded so terribly lovesick when I answered the phone that day. Asking when he would be done with me so he could celebrate Valentine's Day โ€˜properlyโ€™. โ€œShe didnโ€™t really seem all that phased when I answered the phone,โ€ I add. โ€œShe even told me she was sorry he didn't tell me about her beforehand.โ€ โ€œWhat the heck!?โ€ Bella remarks, and I feel a spark of validation run through me. If anyone has my back, itโ€™s Bella. โ€œAt least she didnโ€™t blow up at you or anything. He really never told you about her?โ€ โ€œNope.โ€ I say, popping the โ€˜pโ€™. โ€œHe tried to get me to understand, apparently he never told me about his marriage because Iโ€™m too โ€˜seriousโ€™.โ€ โ€œIs he freaking serious? Oh my god.โ€ Bella remarks, her voice high. I already feel tipsy, my body feeling warm and loose, so I donโ€™t even mind her being loud about it. It feels vindicating to hear her stick up for me in such a vocal way. โ€œAnd even after I chewed him out, he still wanted me to stay with him,โ€ I mention, and Bellaโ€™s eyebrows shoot up. โ€œTold me he still loved me, that we could work this out.โ€ โ€œNonsense!โ€ Bella spits. โ€œYeah. I threw his nonsense out of my apartment that night.โ€ โ€œGood freakinโ€™ riddance. What a loser!โ€ Bella huffs. โ€œThatโ€™s awful, Aria, I know you really liked him.โ€ Bella puts an arm on my shoulder, and I canโ€™t help but wilt. I really liked Jackson. He was someone who I really could see myself marrying, after all of my previous situationships. I canโ€™t help but lean into her touch, thankful I can rely on Bella at least. โ€œYeah. It's a nightmare...I was even thinking about asking him to move in, maybe get a dog and raise it together. I dunno.โ€ โ€œUgh, screw that loser!โ€ Bella spits, and I canโ€™t help but smile at how fired up she is. โ€œI canโ€™t believe he lied about that!โ€ โ€œYeah...โ€ Even I could hear the wistfulness in my voice, and Bella easily picked up on where my negative thoughts were headed. โ€œOh no, youโ€™re not going to wallow over a slimeball like Jackson.โ€ Bella scoffs. โ€œYou are your own woman, Aria! You donโ€™t need any guy to make you feel special.โ€ โ€œBella...โ€ I start, but she cuts me off. โ€œNo, I refuse to let you be sad about this. It takes you forever to get over a guy, even when they do crummy things,โ€ She shakes her head in distaste. โ€œYouโ€™re so pretty, I bet any guy in this bar would make out with you if you asked them!โ€ โ€œCโ€™mon, Bella, donโ€™t be silly.โ€ I feel my face flush at the very thought of kissing some random stranger. Bella smells blood in the water though, I can see it on her face. โ€œI mean... ugh, I hate to agree with that loser, but you can be a little...โ€ Bella hesitates, and I slowly raise my eyebrow at her. โ€œSerious?โ€ โ€œYou said it, not me.โ€ Bella takes a drink. I let out a huff. โ€œI just... I take important things seriously! Is that a crime? That doesn't make me boring, it makes me...reliable?โ€ Iโ€™m way too drunk to think of a good word to use. โ€œI dunno. I just... don't like spontaneous stuff. Especially not stuff like kissing a random person.โ€ โ€œC'monn, Aria, live a little!โ€ Bella smiles, pushing me a bit playfully. I lean with it, the drink making my body pliant. Despite her teasing, I can feel a smile on my face. โ€œIf you loosened up, I bet you could forget all about that loser Jackson.โ€ โ€œOkay, loosen up how?โ€ I indulge her, putting up another hand to get another shot from the bartender. โ€œI dunno, do exciting stuff! Skydiving! Mountain climbing!โ€ โ€œSeems like a lot of work,โ€ I say sarcastically. โ€œOkay okay, how about we start with what I suggested earlier?โ€ Bella smirks, and Iโ€™m pinned by her gaze. โ€œC'mon, Iโ€™m not kissing anyone at this bar.โ€ I look around, and sure enough, I don't see anyone that's particularly my type. โ€œOkay, then donโ€™t kiss anyone here! How about...โ€ Bella gets a wicked grin on her face. โ€œYou kiss the next person that walks in?โ€ โ€œOh my god, no, no way.โ€ I laugh at her, but I can tell from her gaze sheโ€™s serious. โ€œC'mon! You gotta prove that loser wrong.โ€ โ€œWhat if the next guy that walks in looks like an orc?โ€ I say. That third (fourth? fifth?) shot of tequila is making its way through me fast. I already feel like what sheโ€™s proposing isn't that much of a big deal. โ€œThatโ€™s part of the thrill!โ€ I throw Bella a judgmental glare which she just laughs off. โ€œCโ€™mon, it's just one kiss.โ€ I know Iโ€™m drunk when I realize Iโ€™m actually considering this. What's one kiss in the grand scheme of things anyway? The worst that can happen is we get thrown out of the bar. I get my next shot and down it quickly. Iโ€™m going to need to be drunk to go through with this. I think distantly. It goes down like hot fire, and I slam the glass back onto the bar, mind-made. โ€œFine. But I can veto him if heโ€™s not to my taste.โ€ She pumps her fist in victory, and both of our eyes look over towards the door in anticipation. We watch for a bit, and Iโ€™m about to call it off when the door opens. I barely get a glimpse at the guy before I feel Bella push me off the barstool. โ€œGo!โ€ Bella urges. โ€œDo it without thinking!โ€ I hesitate for only a moment, but the drink makes me feel a little more confident. I walk over, head held high. The bar is so dimly lit, I canโ€™t make out the guy's face. Just his cleanly pressed suit and long hair. Either way, the goal is not to think, right? So, without any hesitation, I walk right up to him, close my eyes, and capture his mouth in a kiss. I was intending to make it brief, just a peck, but he drew me in. His tongue feels electric against mine, and I am overcome with the desire to go even further, to put my hands into his long raven hair, and pull him in deeper. But while I am drunk, Iโ€™m not that drunk. I pull away before I am further tempted, my face flushed. I canโ€™t believe I just did that! I scream internally. I open my eyes to see a really handsome guy looking back, with an expression of pure shock across his chiseled features. He seemed a little familiar, like Iโ€™d seen his face before. Iโ€™m shaken away from my admiration by another man, a blonde guy with a very short haircut. He steps between me and the long-haired guy, his face stormy. โ€œWhat the heck are you doing?โ€ He remarks, and I suddenly feel embarrassed. I feel a hand grab my arm, and I turn to see it belongs to the bar owner. This just went from bad to extremely bad! โ€œIโ€™m sorry sir, I didnโ€™t catch up to her in time. You okay?โ€ I look back at the handsome guy, and his eyes are looking me over, scrutinizing me. I notice that his suit seems much more expensive than I thought, and I can definitely see a high-end watch brand on his wrist. I feel awash with shame, suddenly realizing how badly I just messed up. Did I just... make out with some famous VIP?! Chapter 2 Did I just... make out with a famous VIP?! The handsome VIP looks at me with a questioning glare, and I quickly try to offer some kind of justification. โ€œI-Iโ€™m so sorry!โ€ I stutter out, taking several steps back. โ€œIโ€ฆ I justโ€ฆโ€ I flounder for a moment. How the heck would I be able to explain myself? Nobody normally kisses random strangers because of a silly dare! I decide to just lie, hoping I donโ€™t slur my words and come across as some kind of drunk sleaze. โ€œI just thought you were someone else!โ€ I squeak out. โ€œItโ€™s dim in here, I-I didnโ€™t realizeโ€ฆโ€ The VIP just raises a singular eyebrow, and the gesture alone takes my breath away. Now that I can see him clearer, it's plain to see just how unfairly handsome he is. His expression shifts to one of disdain. โ€œRight,โ€ he begins, and his voice demands attention from everyone around us. He looks to the bar owner, who still has my arm in his grasp. โ€œDo you normally allow this kind of behavior in your establishment?โ€ โ€œNo! Of course not Mr. Avarise.โ€ The bar owner clearly wants to impress the guy. Mr. Avarise gives a faint nod to me, as if Iโ€™m nothing more than dirt on his shoe. โ€œThen I suggest you get rid of the problem.โ€ He says offhandedly. I feel like I should be offended for only a moment before the more rational side of my brain takes over. It was kind of an offensive move to kiss him without permission, I think, and my shame grows even further. โ€œCertainly, certainly.โ€ The bar owner begins to drag me off, and I stumble in his grasp. The VIP, Mr. Avarise, just gives a curt note and walks on, giving me one last piercing stare before he leaves to go towards the upstairs of the bar, followed by the blond man and his entire entourage. Theyโ€™re probably going to the exclusive VIP area on the upper floor, I realize. Once they leave, the bar owner lets go of me, and I see Bella walk up to where I am. Itโ€™s right about now I noticed just how many people were looking at this entire scene. This just keeps getting worse and worse! I internally scream. โ€œOkay, so, I canโ€™t really kick you out over something like that, butโ€ฆโ€ The bar owner sighs, and holds up some strange-looking clips of paper. โ€œHere are some free vouchers. If I give these to you, could I close your tab early and see you out?โ€ โ€œOf course!โ€ Bella interrupts, grabbing the vouchers out of his hand. โ€œWe were just leaving anyway!โ€ I feel myself nodding along. I am way too embarrassed by that entire affair to be sitting around the people who just saw me do that. Bella takes over closing the tab, and I cannot wait to get out of there. It's clear the other patrons were watching the entire scene, and all of my attention was focused on trying to leave. As soon as we walk out into the cool night air, Bella lets out a high, shrill laugh. โ€œWoooow! I didnโ€™t know you had that in you!โ€ She hollers, and I just put my face into my hands. โ€œThatโ€™s probably the boldest thing youโ€™ve ever done, Aria! Iโ€™m so proud, they grow up so fast!!โ€ Bella chimes in cheerily, looping her arm in mine as we start our drunk walk home. โ€œIโ€™m never doing something like that again,โ€ I vow. โ€œSeriously, it's just my luck he ended up being some big shot, huh!โ€ โ€œI know! What are the odds! Itโ€™s a shame he didnโ€™t seem to appreciate your attention.โ€ Bella shakes her head. โ€œYou couldโ€™ve probably gotten his number if he is less of a prude!โ€ โ€œYeah, right. Anyone normal would do the same thing if a random person kissed them out of nowhere.โ€ I assert. โ€œI was the misbehaved one there, if anything.โ€ โ€œI dunno, that kiss did seem really hot, though.โ€ Bella sighs wistfully, but I can tell sheโ€™s trying to be funny. โ€œPerhaps in another lifeโ€ฆ. I can see it now! Aria, the rich CEOโ€™s doting wife!โ€ โ€œOh, stop.โ€ I scoff, shoving her playfully. โ€œIf youโ€™re done telling jokes, letโ€™s focus on getting home. Iโ€™d rather not hear about whatever daydream fantasy you have in your head about my love life.โ€ I wake up the next morning with a piercing headache and a lingering feeling of shame. A typical Monday morning, all things considered. I slowly go through my morning routine, rolling out of bed, getting dressed, and cursing myself for not drinking enough water the night before. Itโ€™s only when I brush my teeth in the mirror that I remember everything that happened last night, and I let out a weary grunt of suffering. I am the worst human alive, I think, shoving my head into my hands. I am never going to drink tequila with Bella on Sundays ever again!! As my headache dissipates (thank you, painkillers), I notice that another part of my body seems to be smarting as well. I peel back my shirt collar to reveal a strange-looking mark. It looks almost like a burn, my skin raised red in the shape of crescent around my collarbone. When did I get that? I wonder. Probably something I did last night and forgot about. I write it off, vowing to pick up some kind of ointment for it while Iโ€™m out, and continue my morning routine. I dress pretty casually for today, partially because Iโ€™m taking care of a large number of dogs for today and partially because I am way too hungover to wear something cute but uncomfortable. I slip on some shades and head out the door to begin my walking route, picking up the dogs I need to walk along the way. Being a dog walker isn't glamorous, it's true, but it's something fun to do to make money along with my other part-time jobs. Besides, my neighborsโ€™ dogs are unfairly adorable, and they need someone to walk them while everyone else is away at work. Iโ€™ve always been a dog lover, so I donโ€™t really mind the simplicity of the job. I walk along with the various dogs, feeling a bit better as my headache lessens with every step. Seeing as it's a nice day, I decided to swing by the park. All five of the dogs seemed excited to play in the wide space today, so I quickened my pace to keep up with them. That is, until all of the dogs in my care suddenly come to a dead stop. Each one of them is looking forward, ears high and on alert. Iโ€™m a bit confused by the behavior, Iโ€™ve been walking them for a while and theyโ€™ve never done anything like this. I try to determine what has them on alert, and that's when I notice an extremely large dog bounding toward us. The dog appears to be a husky, but it's huge, much larger than any husky Iโ€™ve seen. I could almost confuse it for a wolf, until it gets closer and begins to try and sniff at me. My other dogs seem scared of it, moving out of their way and whimpering, trying to be still. These dogs are never still, so I exercise caution when I put my hand out for the husky to sniff. It nuzzles my hand, and it doesn't look aggressive in any way. It doesn't really seem all too dangerousโ€ฆ I think. I decide to bury my hands in its soft fur, giving it a few long head scratches. The wolf, no, husky, seems happy to be given attention. โ€œWho is your owner, little guy?โ€ I say offhandedly, not really expecting a response. โ€œSorry, that would be me.โ€ Iโ€™m startled by the shout of a deep, familiar male voice. I quickly remove my attention from the dog and spin around, coming face to face with that same handsome guy from last night running up to me. He isnโ€™t dressed as sharply as he was last night, but he is still a sight to behold. Broad shoulders under a clean white button down, dark long pants which are somehow free of any dog hair. His long black hair is tied up, revealing graying sideburns. The sun reveals that the dim lighting in the bar didn't hide anything, he really was just as handsome as I remembered! โ€œO-Oh, sorry, heโ€™s, uh, pretty friendly, huh?โ€ Heck! Just my luck! I inwardly panic, pulling myself away from his husky. I hope he doesn't recognize me! He narrows his gray eyes at me, and Iโ€™m once again captivated by that lingering stare. The hope of me remaining unrecognizable dies in my throat at his words. โ€œOh. Why is it you again?โ€ Chapter 3 โ€œAh, right! Umโ€ฆโ€ I nervously laugh, a habit Iโ€™ve never been able to fully get rid of. This is the worst thing that couldโ€™ve possibly happened to me this morning! He barely looks at me, his attention firmly focused on his dog. โ€œLucas.โ€ At just his words, the dog underneath my hand shifts, ears going straight up. He sits, ears at attention, but refuses to leave my side. Mr. Avarise seemed a bit frustrated, and I hurried to try and find some way to salvage this horrible social interaction. โ€œI...-I am really sorry about last night,โ€ I start, trying for a smile. โ€œI was super drunk, andโ€ฆ well, you could probably tell that, I just mean-โ€ โ€œItโ€™s fine.โ€ He cuts me off, his tone cold. โ€œR-Right.โ€ I stutter. He seems unwilling to continue any kind of conversation, so I do what I normally do in any social situation where Iโ€™m in over my head; try to pet the nearest animal. Thankfully, the dog (apparently named Lucas) was still sitting right in front of me. I stick my hand out, eager to pet him again. Wait.โ€ The VIPโ€™s tone is so commanding it stops me in my tracks. I look back up at him, and he stares at me warily. โ€œI donโ€™t know what method you used to make Lucas run to you, but he is not an affectionate dog. He bites.โ€ โ€œHe ran here on his own. Andโ€ฆ he seemed fine when I pet him earlier,โ€ I remark, and a look of surprise crosses over Mr. Avariseโ€™s handsome features. To prove Iโ€™m not lying, I let my hands brush over Lucasโ€™ head, and sure enough, the dog seemed right at home. Panting heavily, tail wagging, he seems extremely enthusiastic to have my hands in his gray fur. โ€œHow did you manage that?โ€ He asks, and he genuinely sounds interested. โ€œLucas isโ€ฆ particularly picky with who he likes.โ€ โ€œOh, wellโ€ฆโ€ I flounder for a bit, unsure as to how I can explain. โ€œDogs have always liked me, ever since I was young. In fact, Iโ€™m the most professional dog walker in the area!โ€ I try to put off a cheery attitude despite my low energy this morning. โ€œIf you need some help with him, let me know, I could-โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t need to pay someone to do something so frivolous.โ€ He states, and the words stop me in my tracks. Right, he still hates me for last night. I think. โ€œRight, sorry.โ€ I stop my fervent petting of Lucas, and level him with an apologetic smile. โ€œI just realized, you donโ€™t even really know me, and Iโ€™m here asking to take care of your dogโ€ฆโ€ โ€œIโ€™m Aria.โ€ I hold my hand out, hoping that he doesnโ€™t hate me enough to rebuke me. He stares at my hand for only a moment before taking it, his grip firm and unflinching. โ€œDarren. Darren Avarise.โ€ I feel a rush of relief, finally happy Iโ€™ve learned his name after so long. โ€œRight! Um,โ€ I took a look around, seeing how my other dogs seemed to cower away from Lucas. I feel a spark of worry hit me as I notice, and I deduce that getting them away from Lucas would probably be the wisest option, before they start getting all riled up. โ€œI suppose Iโ€™ll let you get on with your day then!โ€ I say, feeling a bit awkward and worried Iโ€™m taking up too much of his time. โ€œLikewise.โ€ He states neutrally. I take a step away from Lucas, but as I do, Lucas quickly lunges. His teeth grab onto my sweatpants, not roughly, just enough to try to get me to stay. I look down at Lucas in alarm before looking up at Darren. He seems just as surprised as me, eyes locked onto his dog. The two of them exchange glances, almost like they are having some kind of mental battle, and I canโ€™t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of whatโ€™s happening to me. โ€œAh, guess he really likes my pants,โ€ I say nervously, giving a little pat on his head, and encouraging Lucas to let go. With my goading, he reluctantly lets go of the black fabric. I let out a laugh, almost unintentionally. โ€œWhat a sweetheartโ€ฆโ€ I say offhandedly. The dog really was cute, even if he was much bigger than almost any other dog Iโ€™ve ever seen. As much as I want to stay here petting Lucas all day, I get the feeling Darren wouldnโ€™t approve. โ€œWait.โ€ As I begin to start walking off, Iโ€™m stopped by Darrenโ€™s commanding voice. โ€œIโ€ฆ It isโ€ฆrare to find someone Lucas accepts.โ€ He says every word begrudgingly, almost like he regrets even stopping me. โ€œWhat is your contact information?โ€ โ€œO-Oh! Um, here!โ€ I hold out my business card, thankful that I usually remember to bring them on my dog walks. Iโ€™m completely shocked that heโ€™s actually giving me a chance! I let a genuine smile out as he goes to grab it, my fingers mere inches from his. โ€œThat should have my email and everything,โ€ I say, and thereโ€™s a moment he stares me down, gray eyes cataloging my face. I canโ€™t help but blush under the scrutiny, and he quickly takes the card away from me. โ€œDonโ€™t worry about it. Itโ€™s just a precaution.โ€ He says quickly. โ€œStill, I appreciate it.โ€ He gives me one last glare before he looks back down at his dog. โ€œLucas, Come.โ€ He states with his commanding tone, and the dog gives me one last look before it bounds back to its owner, seemingly full of energy. Darren quickly turns around without as much as a goodbye. โ€œUm! Hope you and Lucas have a good day!โ€ I let out, and Darren merely waved his hand above his head in lieu of a verbal goodbye. I canโ€™t help thinking it rude before I write it off as him being busy. A rich guy like him probably has better things to do on a Monday than let me pet his dog all day! I canโ€™t help but think. Come to think of it, so do I. I look down at all the dogs around me, who have perked up with energy now that Lucas has left. I quickly resume my walk, replaying the interaction in my head over and over. I canโ€™t wait to tell Bella! After I finish my walk, return home, and take a shower, Iโ€™m still thinking over what happened. I canโ€™t believe he actually wanted my help. Considering what a bad first impression I made, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary if he just yelled in my face for even daring to touch him. The fact he was willing to give me a chance was a miracle. That is, if I call him. I canโ€™t help but remind myself. I sit down at my computer, trying to put the interaction out of my thoughts for now so I can actually focus on working through my emails. Instantly, when I open up my email, one sticks out in particular. An email from that pet company I applied to ages ago! I quickly opened it up, and I swear I could feel my heart skip a beat. They actually want an interview with me! Chapter 4 I quickly began to try to get ready for the interview, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. I take the fastest shower of my life in order to wash off any lingering dog hairs. Iโ€™d applied to them almost three months ago, and received radio silence in response. It was a bit of a long shot of an application anyway, I hadn't thought I had high chances of getting in anyway. By now, I thought it was a lost opportunity, I never thought that theyโ€™d actually reply! I took care in selecting what outfit to wear. I never got to go to college, so big jobs like these were always such a long shot to get in. I could only ever get freelance and part-time jobs, which made employers think I wasnโ€™t stable enough a lot of the time. If I was able to grab this job, it would be the exact stability I was looking for! Plus, with that stability, I could actually go ahead and adopt a dog, just like I've always wanted to. Along with the other benefits that come with stability, like an actual disposable income. I put on the best outfit I had, a red business suit with a long professional-length skirt, and hurried to the location detailed in the email. Iโ€™d run out of time trying to get ready, so I did my makeup on the subway, not even really caring about the stares I was receiving. My heart was leaping out of my throat, extremely nervous about being accepted into such a stable position. My hands twisted in my red skirt, and I couldn't help but continue to check my reflection on any surface to see if my makeup was perfect. Try to calm down, I think to myself. Itโ€™s just an advertising job for the dog-focused department. You know dogs! Youโ€™ve worked at dog shelters for years, and youโ€™ve done excellent work with creative writing gigs. You got this! I repeated that self-affirmation over and over internally as I exited the train and headed over towards the company building. It was an imposing steel structure deep within the business area of the city. I swallowed my nerves and headed inside, head held high. As soon as I entered the modern-looking welcoming area, I felt dozens of pairs of eyes on me. It seemed like everyone around me was looking in my direction, and I could feel myself blush. Am I really that odd-looking? I think Maybe the red was a mistake? I head to the main reception area, trying to dispel my nerves. โ€œHi, Iโ€™m here for an interview?โ€ I ask once I reach the main desk. The receptionists, a man and a woman, look at me in surprise for a solid moment. I dart them a confused smile, and the woman looks back at her computer, analyzing something behind the screen. The man joins her, and they both give a few suspicious looks towards me and back at the computer. โ€œYouโ€™re human?โ€ The man asks me. โ€œPardon?โ€ I ask, but he doesn't repeat himself. I awkwardly laugh, figuring it's some weird joke. โ€œUh, I mean, what else would I be?โ€ The two of them stare at me for a charged moment before they start to exchange words, too hushed for me to hear. I start to think I've got the wrong address, that is, until the woman steps out from behind the desk. โ€œCome with me,โ€ She says unenthusiastically, and I hesitantly follow her as she begins to walk through the complex. Everywhere we go, I seem to draw attention, eyes and heads turning to look exactly at me. I start to look at myself in the many reflective doors we pass by, but I donโ€™t see anything outwardly strange about my appearance. Why is everyone looking at me? Am I just imagining it? I try to put them out of my mind as Iโ€™m led right up to the small interview room. The receptionist gestures for me to open it, and once I do, I see a well-dressed-looking man with a pair of large glasses on his face. The first thing he asks upon shaking my hand throws me once again. โ€œHuman?โ€ His handshake is firm, and I try to match its intensity. I nervously laugh. They must really like this joke at this pet company, huh? I think. โ€œYes, of course,โ€ I say like Iโ€™m in on the joke. The glasses on the man's face do nothing to hide the disdain. He seems almostโ€ฆ disappointed by my answer? โ€œUh, haha, right.โ€ He says, taking a seat at his desk. I quickly sat on the opposite side, eager to really impress him. โ€œI just want to say, Iโ€™m super thankful for this opportunity,โ€ I say with a smile. โ€œIโ€™ve always been super passionate about dogs, ever since I was young!โ€ โ€œMmhmm.โ€ The interviewer isn't even looking at me, heโ€™s on his computer, looking at something else. Iโ€™m a little insulted, but I try to carry on. โ€œRight. Well, I think Iโ€™ve got a lot of experience for the position, Iโ€™ve done a lot of freelance writing, and with my extensive experience with your main clientele, I think-โ€ โ€œLook,โ€ The man interrupted me, and I quickly shut up, mentally cursing my nerves. You talked too much!! โ€œIโ€™ll be honest with you, I donโ€™t think your experience is going to be relevant here.โ€ โ€œP-Pardon?โ€ โ€œYour education is also lackluster. I donโ€™t really think you have the requirements to join our company.โ€ His words hit me like a slap to the face. I feel a twinge of rage mixed in with my overwhelming shock. โ€œI donโ€™t understand,โ€ I start, trying to keep my composure. โ€œWhy call me in if I didnโ€™t meet the requirements? You had that information already!โ€ โ€œAh, my apologies then,โ€ he says, and I can tell he isnโ€™t slightly sorry. He still isn't even looking at me, just locked onto his computer screen. โ€œOur system glitches sometimes, it was probably a mistake that your resume was accepted.โ€ โ€œMy job application was submitted three months ago,โ€ I say, feeling more heartbroken with every second I spend in this room. โ€œWhy accept a monthsโ€™ old application if you aren't even interested?โ€ โ€œLook, weโ€™re very sorry, but you just don't meet our requirements. One of my subordinates must have made some kind of mistake.โ€ I can feel angry hot tears start to form in my eyes, but before I can say another word, the door to the room opens with a slam. โ€œI called her in.โ€ Darrenโ€™s at the door, Lucas right on his heels. Lucas quickly ran in and circled around the chair I was sitting in, clearly happy to see me. โ€œDo you think that was my mistake?โ€ โ€œOh! Um, of course not, Alp-โ€ He cuts himself off, looking at me. โ€œSir Avarise.โ€ Darren glares at him, and suddenly the pieces are starting to connect. I sit there shocked as Lucas starts to nudge at me with his wet nose. This is when I realized Darren must be his boss, and this interview was set up right after I talked to him this morning. Did he actually want to hire me? Even though he said he didnโ€™t want to before? And more importantlyโ€ฆdid that mean I accidentally kissed the CEO of a multimillion-dollar pet company last night?! I canโ€™t help but inwardly scream. Chapter 5 โ€œMy apologies, Sir.โ€ The interviewer grabs a few papers, looking eager to leave. โ€œI didnโ€™t know it was you who requested such an interview. Iโ€™d never question the Alphaโ€™s decision.โ€ Alpha? I almost ask, but I figure itโ€™s some weird โ€˜employee-at-a-pet-companyโ€™ hierarchy gimmick. These people are strange! โ€œSee that you donโ€™t,โ€ Darren says, and with a single dismissive nod, the interviewer leaves quickly. The two of us stand in the room for a moment, and I canโ€™t help but let my questions bubble to the surface. โ€œSo, youโ€™re the boss around here?โ€ โ€œIndeed.โ€ He answers cooly, and I feel my temper rise โ€œSo you did want to hire me,โ€ I say, standing up from my seat. โ€œWhy? I thought you didnโ€™t want someone โ€˜frivolousโ€™.โ€ I couldnโ€™t help but throw up air quotes, a little annoyed by the fact he made me nervous for no reason. He couldโ€™ve just asked me to work for him at the park, honestly! Making me go through this whole embarrassing situation left me wrong-footed. โ€œLucas was very taken by you,โ€ Darren says simply, and I feel my eyebrows rise in surprise. โ€œHe becameโ€ฆ restless, upon our return home.โ€ โ€œReally? He liked me that much?โ€ โ€œIt appears so.โ€ He seems a little annoyed by the fact. โ€œName a price, any price, and Iโ€™ll hire you to be his full-time caretaker.โ€ โ€œWellโ€ฆโ€ I hesitated, feeling off-balance. A gig like that sounded extremely tempting, not to mention lucrative. But, if it ever fell through, Iโ€™d be right back where I started with no way to support myself long-term. I pause before speaking up again; โ€œI only applied here so I could work in the advertising department. Did you even look at my resume?โ€ โ€œYou wouldn't have to work in this position.โ€ Darren asserted. โ€œIt would be more trouble than it's worth, not to mention more work. All I need is a full-time dog sitter.โ€ โ€œWell-โ€ He senses my hesitation, and he leaps to interrupt me. โ€œYou could be making double what you would be if you worked here traditionally. Like I said, name your price, and I will accommodate.โ€ โ€œLook, Darren, it's awfully nice of you to offer,โ€ I start, looking him over. His expression is intense, and I get the feeling heโ€™s probably used to just getting his way with a snap of his fingers. He wants me specifically, for what reason Iโ€™m not sure, but it's clear I do have some leverage here. โ€œHonestly, if caring for Lucas is the only reason you hired me, I donโ€™t think I can accept your deal. Donโ€™t get me wrong; I like dog sitting, and Lucas is a sweetheart, butโ€ฆโ€ I try for a weak smile. โ€œWell, a job with more stability and advancement is something Iโ€™ve been really searching for. If that isn't in the cards thenโ€ฆ you might as well not hire me at all.โ€ I begin to take a step towards the door, but Lucas stops me in my tracks. He practically howls, the sound sharp in the small interview room. I take a step back in surprise, and Lucas looks at me with shining puppy-dog eyes. He seems really distressed, and he rushes to stand right in between me and the door. I look back up at Darren, who seems lost in thought. Darren POV โ€˜Let Mommy stay!โ€™ Lucas said in our mind link, sounding on the brink of a temper tantrum. I canโ€™t help but let my frustration show through our link. โ€˜How many times do I have to tell you, sheโ€™s human! Not your Mommy!โ€™ I let out a sigh outwardly. I look back at this human, her face hopeful and innocent-looking. If I were to hire her as an employee, sheโ€™d be entering into the werewolf world. Humans are not usually hired at my company, with only a few exceptions to that rule, and there's a good reason for it. Her life would be in constant danger, as no humans could ever learn of our existence. Not to mention, if she ever found out that Lucas was my son, Iโ€™d be the one signing her death warrant. She would most likely find out about Lucas the longer she takes care of him, as the date of his first shift out of his wolf form draws near. Theyโ€™d have to keep up the charade that heโ€™s just a wolf until he was much too old for it. But, I do need her. I remind myself. No one at the company can even get near Lucas, let alone seek his approval. My Beta Liam, my assistants, no one could cater to his needs effectively. And I cannot keep dragging him into business meetings or on international flights, it just wasnโ€™t feasible. Especially once he shifts out of his wolf form, it would just be too inconvenient. Heโ€™s never liked anyone but me taking care of him. But for some reason, he likes this human, Aria. Even now, Lucas seems in a happier mood just upon seeing her. Having her help would be immensely beneficial for me and my company, not to mention my sonโ€™s well-being. I let out a mental grunt, trying to weigh out my options. โ€˜I can hear you thinking from where I am, halfway across the office,โ€™ I hear the words of my Beta, Liam, in my mind through our link. โ€˜The human is playing hardball?โ€™ โ€˜It seems so.โ€™ I send the memory of my current conversation with Aria through the link, along with my thoughts on the matter. โ€˜In my opinion, Alpha, the pros outweigh the consโ€™ Liam sends. โ€˜Having her take care of him saves you time and leaves you free for business trips. The only complication would be forcing Lucas to stay in his wolf form around her.โ€™ โ€˜That will be harder to maintain as he grows upโ€™ I remind him. โ€˜We can cross that bridge when we get to it.โ€™ He says, and I realize I canโ€™t help but agree with his points. โ€˜Besides, if she ever does find out, weโ€™d just have to silence her, like we have with every other mortal who found out about us. It wouldnโ€™t be difficult.โ€™ โ€˜That won't happen.โ€™ For some reason, the idea of murdering this human sends a wave of displeasure through me. I quickly suppress the feeling so it doesn't transfer through my mind link with Liam. โ€˜Beta, ensure the employees are made aware of ourโ€ฆ newest human applicant.โ€™ โ€˜Right away, Alpha.โ€™ He sends one last link before the connection is muted. I force my mind to the present, my focus directly on the shorter human woman in front of me. โ€œFine. I accept your terms.โ€ I state, and the relief is evident on her face. โ€œBut, you start as an intern. If you do a good enough job here, we can start you full-time. And you will take care of Lucas when the need arises.โ€ โ€œO-Of course!โ€ I see Ariaโ€™s face light up in joy, โ€œThatโ€™s excellent. I wonโ€™t let you down!โ€ I canโ€™t help but feel satisfied with her ambition and determination to rise to the challenge. However, I also feel a small bit of worry enter my heart. I make a silent promise. You better not uncover our secret, human. LEARN_MORE https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&u Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 2,500 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 befant.com IMAGE https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&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/t39.35426-6/481039240_2422531268089547_2533061446477969410_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3xA3acf9VWkQ7kNvgEBl6PV&_nc_oc=AdgGxUa9ogWiXXoj7wNCld0yHqbDkGmC1St4UgI18LtQQ5c-gKRbF_9P8VIDs6jq2XIBwKqSbu41tUBIN1vpgoWj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AV2iK2rY3wJt8tpQnihhlEe&oh=00_AYCU4Ct2nldLc5ME9w_otBCnlsta6czLbljyOm6e7TKW7A&oe=67CC2F0D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:53 active 2790 0 ๐ŸŒฟ Trร  Xanh Giแบฃm Cรขn Kelly Bui โ€“ Dรกng ฤแบนp, Da Xinh, Tแปฑ Tin Rแบกng Ngแปi ๐ŸŒฟ ๐ŸŒฟ Bรญ Quyแบฟt Duy Trรฌ Vรณc Dรกng Khแปe Mแบกnh โ€“ Trร  Xanh Kelly Bui ๐ŸŒฟ Bแบกn ฤ‘ang tรฌm kiแบฟm giแบฃi phรกp hแป— trแปฃ kiแปƒm soรกt cรขn nแบทng mแป™t cรกch khoa hแปc? ๐Ÿต Trร  Xanh Kelly Bui vแป›i thร nh phแบงn tแปฑ nhiรชn giรบp: โœ… Hแป— trแปฃ thanh lแปc cฦก thแปƒ, duy trรฌ vรณc dรกng cรขn ฤ‘แป‘i โœ… Cung cแบฅp nฤƒng lฦฐแปฃng tแปซ thiรชn nhiรชn, phรน hแปฃp lแป‘i sแป‘ng lร nh mแบกnh โœ… Kแบฟt hแปฃp chแบฟ ฤ‘แป™ ฤƒn uแป‘ng vร  vแบญn ฤ‘แป™ng ฤ‘แปƒ ฤ‘แบกt hiแป‡u quแบฃ tแป‘t nhแบฅt ๐Ÿ“ฉ Inbox ngay ฤ‘แปƒ tรฌm hiแปƒu thรชm vแป bรญ quyแบฟt chฤƒm sรณc cฦก thแปƒ mแป—i ngร y! #Trร XanhKellyBui #DรกngฤแบนpTแปฑNhiรชn๐Ÿ’š#GiแปฏDรกngKhแปeMแบกnh๐Ÿ’ช#ThanhLแปcCฦกThแปƒ๐Ÿต#Lแป‘iSแป‘ngLร nhMแบกnh MESSAGE_PAGE Khแปe Mแบกnh Tแปซ Bรชn Trong-USA https://www.facebook.com/61566342823275/ 50 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Send message 0 VIDEO 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480237071_607745908687496_8638420744595250609_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1CcjLXrZGegQ7kNvgFumyfD&_nc_oc=AdhB9EKmyBB-u7hdhJlvKIeYNFL4vehF-ge8WNmPh_MngvRqfqDs8RQKyDEHQRc-j38evPkj6WFPy7bkxe26034a&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ADn3PPKEAI8rW87A1-wa2bp&oh=00_AYCzI_OfrjTfb60y_bLCOWJwCWqtznFEZ5i792wsh3Awdw&oe=67CC0D7D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Khแปe Mแบกnh Tแปซ Bรชn Trong-USA 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 4 Interest-free Payments May every day of your new year sparkle and shine๐ŸŒบ โœ…Any order 10% off and more promotions enjoy now. Shop Now๐Ÿ‘‰:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo Free shipping & After Pay SHOP_NOW https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook. Italo Jeweler https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/ 20,452 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Shop now 0 www.italojewelry.com VIDEO โœ…60-day Return & One Year Warranty https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/473619340_582956127992002_6041211547374391147_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8BX2c01BO2QQ7kNvgGWgMam&_nc_oc=AdjDKbnD83VXKgiW_sXLrOloRmNs8urnZWGIo2Zkn4zLxcmeNjQCOoRNfl8MIOYDJq04cmw2foNRCyDcxod2ZY77&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-vuDDKvfrUR1G3X0q-EqXy&oh=00_AYDL_QE9-xq6iTcwBUzYniCLc-CGDc8tmbDkyr96Nghjfw&oe=67CC0D8E PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Italo Jeweler 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ๐Ÿ”žAttention! Do not read in public๏ผ๐Ÿ‘‰ As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... Neah "Where is she?" I hear the Beta scream. I groan and rise to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket before heading over. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don't make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. "Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office." Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If only I could find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. But I didn't need another week locked up with no food. My stomach already hurt enough. "We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Don't you understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!" I don't answer, It's a trap, a ploy to provoke me into saying something that would justify punishment. I keep my eyes lowered, avoiding his gaze. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn't mess around and he had the largest pack. "He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!" We had never been attacked and we had never attacked anyone, so why did we need another pack to help us? He grabs my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin as he turns me around and kicks me into the office. "Useless Wolf." He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean against it, observing the already clean office. 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 alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don't quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. "Is this the way you greet all Alphas?" His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. "I'm sorry." I whisper, getting to my feet. "I...I thought I was alone." I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. "Come forward." He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey wil kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I'm told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. "You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?" I nod, though I couldn't tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. "I would prefer it if you spoke to me." He growls, "I'm not in the mood to play games." "Yes." I whisper. I couldn't help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? "Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me." "I..." I hated the question. "You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It's rude to not look at them. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?" 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."My Wolf abilities were bound," I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn't interested in that part. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, "Why would someone do that?" 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. "It was a punishment." I whisper. It wasn't far from the entire truth. There's 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 couldn't tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me "Neah, what are you doing in my office?" He turns to the crimson eyed man. "I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it's him. My brother spins around, hand poised to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He is taller than my brother, more muscly too. "Neah," My name rolls off of his tongue, "was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested." 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. "Go and get Beta Kyle." Alpha Trey seethes. "Tell him our guest is here." I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. "Beta Kyle," I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. "Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you." He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. "You're lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't see sunlight for a few days." 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 doesn't 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 doesn't 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. "Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating." 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. "Neah is your sister, correct?" Alpha Dane questions my brother. "She is." Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. "Why do you treat her like trash?" Straight to the point, my brother wouldn't 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 didn't know what to do. I couldn't 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. "Neah was responsible for our parents' death." Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Responsible how?" Alpha Dane's voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. "She served them Wolfsbane." Don't make a sound. Don't 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. "You poisoned your parents?" "I was six." I splutter. "I just made them lemonade." 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. "Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old." "A six year old should know the difference between plants." Alpha Trey snaps "Sounds to me like she was set up." Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of me. "You weren't there, Alpha Dane." My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. "I didn't ask you here to talk about my slave!" Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha's he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha's, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. "You're right and now I have a few things to mull over." "I thought we agreed." My brother exclaims "Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out." The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. "What the heck did you say to him?" My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. "N...nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny." "Did you tell him?" 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. "WELL?" My brother yells when I don't immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. "But I didn't say it was you." I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. "If you have ruined this, you won't see daylight again." He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. "Pleaseโ€ฆ." I beg. "He was an Alphaโ€ฆIโ€ฆ I had to answer him." 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... "Alpha Dane, I thought you had left." Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. "I 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?" "As I said," my brother holds his ground, "She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves." "You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!" Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. "If 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?" Both Alpha Trey and Beta Kyle hold their tongues. 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. I see those crimson eyes land on my swollen face. "I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey." Alpha Dane speaks up again. "We have already agreed on terms." "Well, I'm adding one. And if you don't agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don't want that." "I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?" Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. "You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal." 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? "Deal." Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn't take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. "I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow." He reaches a hand out and cups my face, "Ensure you have everything packed." 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. "If 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." He struts out, slamming the door behind him. After Dane leaves, my brother grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to have a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the coldest man in the world, he's killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what happens to you!" LEARN_MORE https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& New world publications https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ 3,810 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 wwwedb.com VIDEO https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&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/t39.35426-6/474556695_1307330413942013_2719687232333449173_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Knwgy7O9R28Q7kNvgF2T3Jf&_nc_oc=AdgAJlZfO0ND6MNWF3rUuRvj--Y3D9BagJrs7OhK0vt8U3McGYzOfxP5H8O2TrrLjqP1syzUo92ptwPi2jho5MYH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AyUlGEf9JDYy1GXnEFRp9QC&oh=00_AYBgh3IshGeDul4dbwULLzP9Su2F5t9LgJ2NPP0dwsPvNA&oe=67CC2A97 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 New world publications 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:11 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ˜Read the next chapters๐Ÿ‘‰ Chapter 1 As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: โ€œRedwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling facesโ€”my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and posted a photo of our marriage certificate in the comments section: "Is your troupeโ€™s new production called the Union of Illegitimates?" Before long, Julian called me. "Victoria Dean, what stupid thing are you doing now? How many times do I have to tell you that Averil and I are just putting on a show." I sniffled. "Julian, what gives you the right to take away my lead dancer role?" There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you part of Redwood?" After a pause, he added nonchalantly, "Averil wanted the lead role in this tour as her birthday gift. I didnโ€™t realize that role was yours. Go online and clarify immediately. Tell everyone that the marriage certificate was doctored." I found it laughable. He didnโ€™t even know where I worked but remembered Averilโ€™s birthday gift request. "And then? Why would I fake a marriage certificate?" Julian replied calmly, "You can say youโ€™re just a fan of mine." "Julian Ford, what do you take me for?" He sighed softly on the other end. "Victoria, weโ€™ve been married for seven years. Weโ€™re practically an old married couple. Averil is young; thereโ€™s no need to compete with her." He must have forgotten that I married him before finishing college. Though weโ€™d been married for seven years, I was only a year older than Averil. "Julian, I fell down the stairs, and my leg hurts." "Victoria, itโ€™s just an apology and a clarification. Itโ€™s not that hard." Julian sounded genuinely disappointed. "When did you turn into such a shameless liar?" Drip. Drip. Tears, mingled with blood from my nose, splattered onto the back of my hand. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I hung up the call. Julian called again, but I immediately put his number on silent. I called for an ambulance myself. When the paramedics arrived, they asked if I had any family to accompany me. "No," I replied numbly, tilting my head back. "They're all gone." On the way to the hospital, Julian sent me a message, "Victoria, Averil was so upset by you that she fainted. You need to come to the hospital immediately to apologize in person. Bring an appropriate gift; there will be reporters present. Donโ€™t worry about your reputation. This mess is your fault to begin with." My hands trembled as I typed a two-word reply, โ€œKeep dreaming." Then I turned off my phone, shutting myself away in solitude. While waiting in the hospital hallway for my X-ray results, I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice: "Mr. Watson, Iโ€™m Victoriaโ€™s boyfriend. If thereโ€™s anything she needs moving forward, feel free to contact me directly." I looked up, locking eyes with Julian as he walked in. His steps faltered for a moment, his movements stiff, but he quickly acted as if he didnโ€™t recognize me. Continuing his conversation with Benjamin Watson, he passed me without a second glance. The faint citrus scent clinging to him twisted my stomach in knots. I almost bolted, but Julian turned back. He seemed to have rushed over, and when he noticed I was still there, a flicker of exasperation crossed his face. "Victoria, have you thought it through?" "I told you to keep dreaming." I pushed past him, limping away in the opposite direction. I felt Julian's gaze linger on my injured leg for a moment, growing colder by the second. "Victoria, are you really stooping to this kind of ploy just to avoid apologizing?" I didnโ€™t want to respond. All I wanted was to get away from this hallway, thick with the scent of Averilโ€™s perfume. A large hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back. I stumbled, barely able to steady myself as a sharp pain shot through my leg. "Ah!" I couldnโ€™t hold back a cry of pain. Julianโ€™s brow furrowed in irritation, his tone laced with displeasure. "Youโ€™ve really let me down." With practiced ease, he reached into my pocket and took my phone. "Give it back!" I stretched my arm to snatch it, but Julian, clearly annoyed, gave me a firm shove. "Hank, hold her." The bodyguard, tall and imposing, pinned me effortlessly. I couldnโ€™t break free. "Julian Ford!!" Chapter 2 A mask was tossed over. "Cover her mouth. Stop her from screaming." My wrist was locked in a crushing grip, my legs throbbed with pain, and my mouth was tightly covered. All I could do was let my tears flow helplessly. I could only watch as Julian took my phone, logged into my account, and posted an apology and clarification in my name. "Iโ€™ve changed your password and replaced your verification number with mine. For now, just stay out of trouble." When Julian finally looked up and saw my state, he seemed startled. He pushed Hank, away, glaring at him in reproach. "Did you really have to use that much force?" He rubbed my wrist gently. "Does it hurt? If youโ€™d listened earlier, this wouldnโ€™t have happened." I snatched my phone back and reluctantly opened my social media, only to find a post uploaded from my account that read: "I apologize for my earlier comment on Redwood Dance Troupeโ€™s post. I am not married to Mr. Julian Ford. As a fan, I acted on selfish impulses. I also want to apologize to Ms. Averil Wells and Mr. Julian Ford for any trouble Iโ€™ve caused." My hands trembled as I tried to open the comments section. "Victoria, have you no shame?" โ€œVictoria, my God, your desperation to become the other woman practically oozes through the screen." "Victoria, people like you are a disgrace to dancers everywhere. Get out of this industry!" ... Julian took the phone from my hand again. "Donโ€™t look." I moved my lips, my voice low and unsteady. "Julian, is this what you wanted?" He turned his face away. "People online forget quickly. Iโ€™ll have someone redirect the narrative later. Just stay off your phone for a few days." I shook my head slowly, my vision unfocused. "Julian, youโ€™ve destroyed me." I couldnโ€™t make out his expression, but his voice, tinged with irritation, rang in my ears. "I already told you Iโ€™ll handle it. Why are you making a scene? If you hadnโ€™t caused all this trouble yourself, would things be this messy? Victoria, you have to understand that even if I deliberately put you in the spotlight, itโ€™s your own fault you ended up like this!" A sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else as a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Julian, letโ€™s get a divorce." He seemed to chuckle, his voice indulgent yet exasperated. "Youโ€™re upset right now. If venting helps, go ahead." He was convinced I wouldnโ€™t divorce him, using his supposed tolerance to display his magnanimity. Surprisingly, Julianโ€™s laughter brought me an eerie sense of calm. Just then, the doctor called my name from the other end of the hallway. "Victoria Dean, your test results are ready." Julian froze for a moment and followed after me. "What test results?" "Julian,โ€ a soft voice called out from behind him. โ€œWhy have you been gone so long?" He immediately turned back, heading toward Averil, who stood at the doorway of her hospital room. "Averil, why did you come out? You should be resting. Get back to bed," he said, his tone filled with concern. Dragging my numb, pain-ridden leg, I walked in the opposite direction, completely away from him. It felt as though I were stepping on razor blades. Every step sliced through my flesh. Every step tore through my soul. The doctor handed me the results and warned me that I needed to rest for the next month. Without it, dancing again would be out of the question. I hailed a cab and returned home to face the cold emptiness of my apartment alone. Because of our secret marriage, Julian and I maintained separate residences. Heโ€™d deliberately chosen the unit right above mine. On my first night there, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me. "Now I can sneak into your bed every night.โ€ Julian seemed to take particular pleasure in this illicit game, as though the secrecy added a thrill. I once thought it was just a peculiar quirk beneath his otherwise serious exterior. But I was wrong. The thrill wasnโ€™t about secrecyโ€”it was about betrayal. He had grown bored of me and set his sights on the newer, more enticing Averil. Chapter 3 At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit. "Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?" I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averilโ€™s latest post: "I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious." "Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?" Julian frowned. "Donโ€™t be like this..." He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I havenโ€™t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?" I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him. Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, thatโ€™s enough. Stop acting like this." "Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls Iโ€™ve received? Do you know Iโ€™ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?" Iโ€™ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered typeโ€”in other words, easy to push around. Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection. "Victoria, youโ€™re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?" I never once imagined heโ€™d leave me behind. Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me. Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud. He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval. He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city. Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didnโ€™t give up on me The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal. โ€œLetโ€™s divorce,โ€ I said, closing my eyes. โ€œAt least let me keep some dignity.โ€ "Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isnโ€™t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?" My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned. โ€œWhat did you just say?โ€ Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. โ€œWhen your parents took their lives, the whole country was cursing youโ€”โ€ โ€œGet out!โ€ I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. โ€œGet out!โ€ Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him. โ€œDonโ€™t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Letโ€™s see how long you can hold out,โ€ he snapped as he left. Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update. "First day in the new placeโ€”this dรฉcor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?" The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky dรฉcor" was all my work. Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, itโ€™s pretty bad. Letโ€™s tear it down and redo it." I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried. A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced. To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy. When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number Iโ€™d used during my overseas performances. Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldnโ€™t bear to part with Julian. Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. โ€œHello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?โ€ There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected. Why wasnโ€™t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news? Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. โ€œMr. Yates, please listen to me. I didnโ€™t do any of those things. Iโ€™ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. Iโ€ฆโ€ โ€œWait for me.โ€ A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered. I froze. โ€œYouโ€™re not Jason?โ€ โ€œWait for me,โ€ the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up. I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone." A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. Iโ€™ll take you away." Chapter 4 Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear. I exhaled in relief. Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork. I didnโ€™t have muchโ€”just one suitcase in total. I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me. It wasnโ€™t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him. He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken. When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the childrenโ€™s deaths, it was Julian who saved me. I didnโ€™t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared. He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life. He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days. For that alone, I couldnโ€™t bring myself to hate him. All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms. After three days of silence, Julian showed up again. "Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?" I nodded, calm and collected. "I have." He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow. "Good. Thatโ€™s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, Iโ€™ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, Iโ€™ll make sure youโ€™re left with nothing." He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes. "Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them." Julianโ€™s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, youโ€™ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldnโ€™t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford? "Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesnโ€™t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldnโ€™t be so ungrateful." I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth. I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family. Julianโ€™s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. Iโ€™m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene." At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesnโ€™t deserve to be called a man." At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world. But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised. The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed. The realization made me sick to my stomach. "Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like." Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable. "You want a divorce? Fine. But donโ€™t you think itโ€™s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?" I nodded and took out a bank card. "Thereโ€™s one million in this account. Itโ€™s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years." Julianโ€™s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million? Do you think thatโ€™s enough?" "Itโ€™s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "Iโ€™ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total. "Julian Ford, I owe you nothing." He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle. "I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you donโ€™t need me, letโ€™s forget about it." His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret. But he was destined to be disappointed. My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "Weโ€™re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime." His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table. "Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and Iโ€™ll agree to the divorce." Chapter 5 I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish. But I had no other choice but to agree. When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty. This wasnโ€™t a private gala at all. The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols. I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me. "Look! Isnโ€™t that the fake marriage fraudster?" Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, Iโ€™d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster." I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear. "Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?" "Look at her dress. Averilโ€™s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move." "Donโ€™t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. Sheโ€™s not worthy!" "Exactly. Averilโ€™s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff." The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm. Looking up, I recognized him instantlyโ€”it was Hank, Julianโ€™s bodyguard. He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue." Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm. Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again. The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone. Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving. "Look at Victoriaโ€™s awkward walk! Doesnโ€™t she look like a lame old mule?" "Sheโ€™s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!" "Victoria, youโ€™re a trashy parasite!" Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blowโ€”a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely. I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle. โ€œAh!โ€ Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy. "Ha! Doesnโ€™t she look like sheโ€™s on her period?" "Fake marriage fraudster, donโ€™t you have any shame? Get out of here!" "If I were you, Iโ€™d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!" Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hankโ€™s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!" Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if youโ€™re barely breathing, youโ€™re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, youโ€™ll get through tonightโ€™s event first. Otherwise, youโ€™ll face the consequences." I froze in place. Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite. And me? A woman whose very identity couldnโ€™t even see the light of dayโ€”what leverage did I have to fight him? I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. Iโ€™ll walk myself." Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along. Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step. By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self. Julianโ€™s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?" I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isnโ€™t this exactly what you wanted to see?" His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own. "Victoria, Iโ€™m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you." Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julianโ€™s side. "She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldnโ€™t mind, right, Victoria?" In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger. But now, all I wanted was to leave. "Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. Youโ€™ve made your point. Can I go now?" Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response. I turned away, desperate to escape. "Donโ€™t leave." Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way. Chapter 6 "Well, if it isnโ€™t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since youโ€™re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?" I didnโ€™t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julianโ€™s pawns sent to humiliate me. "Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened. "Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think youโ€™re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, donโ€™t you? Youโ€™ve already been blacklisted from the industry." His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like Iโ€™d plunged into icy water. "Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?" Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong." I couldnโ€™t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!" His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did." Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, Iโ€™m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasnโ€™t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you." I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded. "Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary." Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didnโ€™t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?" I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me. I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity. I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, heโ€™d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that. "You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I canโ€™t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second." He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each otherโ€™s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest thingsโ€”even sharing a single apple felt like a feast. And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men. My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish." I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with. "Look, Victoriaโ€™s still limping. Could she really be injured?" "Ignore her. Sheโ€™s faking it." Julianโ€™s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation. I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague. I froze, knowing there was no point in asking. But I couldnโ€™t accept it. I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation. So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julianโ€™s words. I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd. Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly. I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become. I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyoneโ€™s amusement. They couldnโ€™t resist stepping on me, mocking me. And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life. Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, havenโ€™t you embarrassed yourself enough?" Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?" He didnโ€™t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly. "Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airsโ€”if word gets out, wonโ€™t it tarnish Mr. Fordโ€™s reputation?" "Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesnโ€™t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldnโ€™t cross." "Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and weโ€™ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julianโ€™s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?" The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me. I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?" Chapter 7 There were three steps between Julian and me. He didnโ€™t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap. I knew he was waiting for me to back down. In every argument weโ€™d ever had, I was always the first to surrenderโ€”not because he was right, but because I couldnโ€™t forget the salvation heโ€™d given me during my darkest times. In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it. Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see. But today, I couldnโ€™t pretend anymore. I asked again, โ€œForcing me to drink as an apologyโ€”is that what you want?โ€ Julianโ€™s anger flashed across his face when I didnโ€™t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is." I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass. He knew I was allergic to wine. Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far. The boy who once couldnโ€™t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time. Crack. It felt like I heard something shatter. It was the ten years I had shared with Julian. A phrase suddenly came to mind, โ€œThereโ€™s no use crying over spilled milk.โ€ โ€œFine.โ€ I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julianโ€™s face. The sharp burn of wine scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red. โ€œGreat drinking! Letโ€™s pour her another glass!โ€ Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, โ€œThatโ€™s enough,โ€ shoving them aside. Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage." She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings. "Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?" "Not happening." The wine still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin. "Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isnโ€™t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you donโ€™t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?" After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow. Averil clung to Julianโ€™s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me." Julianโ€™s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment. "Victoria, if you still want to dance, youโ€™ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil." His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him. "Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing youโ€”Iโ€™m done playing." I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue. Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julianโ€™s feet. "Julian Ford, since youโ€™re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and weโ€™re done. From now on, weโ€™re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and donโ€™t ever show your faces in front of me again!" LEARN_MORE https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 375 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 www.qknymufd.com VIDEO https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17636&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/t39.35426-6/474155316_627308789819593_2326711949492997669_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4Lj4rt31KhEQ7kNvgFZ_cMs&_nc_oc=Adi-YCktknHclYyQNhGZbzJbD9bpRe9cBVyTCPz4yosUD44gfyoJxYwuLjzxOi7rFRi0ij9z7Djsao3X3ngtmV5I&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWhqfR4amSR0rP_DEQhMevh&oh=00_AYCbTxiYtXtw1sWMdGDY4Q_qDBZW9etd9yMO0n9fanwSrw&oe=67CC2A6D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅNEW POPULAR READ๐Ÿ”ฅ โ€œYou really broke up with your boyfriend on Valentine's Day, Why? I mean, was he seeing another woman?โ€ โ€œTechnically, I was the other woman.โ€ I tilted back the shot of tequila down my throat, the liquid causing a shiver through me like lightning. โ€œWhat?!โ€ Bellaโ€™s outburst drew the attention of a few onlookers at the bar, which is exactly what I didn't want. I sigh, hoping that anybody who overhears is too drunk to remember what I just said. I leaned my elbows on the bar and dropped my chin in my hands. Not even the throbbing dance music could distract my brain from thinking what an idiot I was. That Valentine's Day was great. A romantic dinner, followed by an excellent intimate time. Iโ€™d spent the whole of last night wrapped in Jacksonโ€™s arms. It was a night more precious to me than anything, especially since he was always so busy with work. It was nice. Perfect. Until he got in the shower and his phone rang. I sat up and stared at the caller ID, a bit confused by the name. โ€˜Boss Ladyโ€™. I figured I might as well pick up the phone for him, because I know how seriously Jackson took his job. Heโ€™d always have to cut dates short due to it, so whatever it is, it must be important. โ€œThen I realized it was Jacksonโ€™s wife. Heโ€™s apparently in an โ€˜open marriageโ€™โ€ I told Bella, putting up air-quotations. โ€œHis wife even knew about me before I knew about her.โ€ Of course, Iโ€™m just summarizing everything to Bella to spare my own dignity. The woman sounded so terribly lovesick when I answered the phone that day. Asking when he would be done with me so he could celebrate Valentine's Day โ€˜properlyโ€™. โ€œShe didnโ€™t really seem all that phased when I answered the phone,โ€ I add. โ€œShe even told me she was sorry he didn't tell me about her beforehand.โ€ โ€œWhat the heck!?โ€ Bella remarks, and I feel a spark of validation run through me. If anyone has my back, itโ€™s Bella. โ€œAt least she didnโ€™t blow up at you or anything. He really never told you about her?โ€ โ€œNope.โ€ I say, popping the โ€˜pโ€™. โ€œHe tried to get me to understand, apparently he never told me about his marriage because Iโ€™m too โ€˜seriousโ€™.โ€ โ€œIs he freaking serious? Oh my god.โ€ Bella remarks, her voice high. I already feel tipsy, my body feeling warm and loose, so I donโ€™t even mind her being loud about it. It feels vindicating to hear her stick up for me in such a vocal way. โ€œAnd even after I chewed him out, he still wanted me to stay with him,โ€ I mention, and Bellaโ€™s eyebrows shoot up. โ€œTold me he still loved me, that we could work this out.โ€ โ€œNonsense!โ€ Bella spits. โ€œYeah. I threw his nonsense out of my apartment that night.โ€ โ€œGood freakinโ€™ riddance. What a loser!โ€ Bella huffs. โ€œThatโ€™s awful, Aria, I know you really liked him.โ€ Bella puts an arm on my shoulder, and I canโ€™t help but wilt. I really liked Jackson. He was someone who I really could see myself marrying, after all of my previous situationships. I canโ€™t help but lean into her touch, thankful I can rely on Bella at least. โ€œYeah. It's a nightmare...I was even thinking about asking him to move in, maybe get a dog and raise it together. I dunno.โ€ โ€œUgh, screw that loser!โ€ Bella spits, and I canโ€™t help but smile at how fired up she is. โ€œI canโ€™t believe he lied about that!โ€ โ€œYeah...โ€ Even I could hear the wistfulness in my voice, and Bella easily picked up on where my negative thoughts were headed. โ€œOh no, youโ€™re not going to wallow over a slimeball like Jackson.โ€ Bella scoffs. โ€œYou are your own woman, Aria! You donโ€™t need any guy to make you feel special.โ€ โ€œBella...โ€ I start, but she cuts me off. โ€œNo, I refuse to let you be sad about this. It takes you forever to get over a guy, even when they do crummy things,โ€ She shakes her head in distaste. โ€œYouโ€™re so pretty, I bet any guy in this bar would make out with you if you asked them!โ€ โ€œCโ€™mon, Bella, donโ€™t be silly.โ€ I feel my face flush at the very thought of kissing some random stranger. Bella smells blood in the water though, I can see it on her face. โ€œI mean... ugh, I hate to agree with that loser, but you can be a little...โ€ Bella hesitates, and I slowly raise my eyebrow at her. โ€œSerious?โ€ โ€œYou said it, not me.โ€ Bella takes a drink. I let out a huff. โ€œI just... I take important things seriously! Is that a crime? That doesn't make me boring, it makes me...reliable?โ€ Iโ€™m way too drunk to think of a good word to use. โ€œI dunno. I just... don't like spontaneous stuff. Especially not stuff like kissing a random person.โ€ โ€œC'monn, Aria, live a little!โ€ Bella smiles, pushing me a bit playfully. I lean with it, the drink making my body pliant. Despite her teasing, I can feel a smile on my face. โ€œIf you loosened up, I bet you could forget all about that loser Jackson.โ€ โ€œOkay, loosen up how?โ€ I indulge her, putting up another hand to get another shot from the bartender. โ€œI dunno, do exciting stuff! Skydiving! Mountain climbing!โ€ โ€œSeems like a lot of work,โ€ I say sarcastically. โ€œOkay okay, how about we start with what I suggested earlier?โ€ Bella smirks, and Iโ€™m pinned by her gaze. โ€œC'mon, Iโ€™m not kissing anyone at this bar.โ€ I look around, and sure enough, I don't see anyone that's particularly my type. โ€œOkay, then donโ€™t kiss anyone here! How about...โ€ Bella gets a wicked grin on her face. โ€œYou kiss the next person that walks in?โ€ โ€œOh my god, no, no way.โ€ I laugh at her, but I can tell from her gaze sheโ€™s serious. โ€œC'mon! You gotta prove that loser wrong.โ€ โ€œWhat if the next guy that walks in looks like an orc?โ€ I say. That third (fourth? fifth?) shot of tequila is making its way through me fast. I already feel like what sheโ€™s proposing isn't that much of a big deal. โ€œThatโ€™s part of the thrill!โ€ I throw Bella a judgmental glare which she just laughs off. โ€œCโ€™mon, it's just one kiss.โ€ I know Iโ€™m drunk when I realize Iโ€™m actually considering this. What's one kiss in the grand scheme of things anyway? The worst that can happen is we get thrown out of the bar. I get my next shot and down it quickly. Iโ€™m going to need to be drunk to go through with this. I think distantly. It goes down like hot fire, and I slam the glass back onto the bar, mind-made. โ€œFine. But I can veto him if heโ€™s not to my taste.โ€ She pumps her fist in victory, and both of our eyes look over towards the door in anticipation. We watch for a bit, and Iโ€™m about to call it off when the door opens. I barely get a glimpse at the guy before I feel Bella push me off the barstool. โ€œGo!โ€ Bella urges. โ€œDo it without thinking!โ€ I hesitate for only a moment, but the drink makes me feel a little more confident. I walk over, head held high. The bar is so dimly lit, I canโ€™t make out the guy's face. Just his cleanly pressed suit and long hair. Either way, the goal is not to think, right? So, without any hesitation, I walk right up to him, close my eyes, and capture his mouth in a kiss. I was intending to make it brief, just a peck, but he drew me in. His tongue feels electric against mine, and I am overcome with the desire to go even further, to put my hands into his long raven hair, and pull him in deeper. But while I am drunk, Iโ€™m not that drunk. I pull away before I am further tempted, my face flushed. I canโ€™t believe I just did that! I scream internally. I open my eyes to see a really handsome guy looking back, with an expression of pure shock across his chiseled features. He seemed a little familiar, like Iโ€™d seen his face before. Iโ€™m shaken away from my admiration by another man, a blonde guy with a very short haircut. He steps between me and the long-haired guy, his face stormy. โ€œWhat the heck are you doing?โ€ He remarks, and I suddenly feel embarrassed. I feel a hand grab my arm, and I turn to see it belongs to the bar owner. This just went from bad to extremely bad! โ€œIโ€™m sorry sir, I didnโ€™t catch up to her in time. You okay?โ€ I look back at the handsome guy, and his eyes are looking me over, scrutinizing me. I notice that his suit seems much more expensive than I thought, and I can definitely see a high-end watch brand on his wrist. I feel awash with shame, suddenly realizing how badly I just messed up. Did I just... make out with some famous VIP?! Chapter 2 Did I just... make out with a famous VIP?! The handsome VIP looks at me with a questioning glare, and I quickly try to offer some kind of justification. โ€œI-Iโ€™m so sorry!โ€ I stutter out, taking several steps back. โ€œIโ€ฆ I justโ€ฆโ€ I flounder for a moment. How the heck would I be able to explain myself? Nobody normally kisses random strangers because of a silly dare! I decide to just lie, hoping I donโ€™t slur my words and come across as some kind of drunk sleaze. โ€œI just thought you were someone else!โ€ I squeak out. โ€œItโ€™s dim in here, I-I didnโ€™t realizeโ€ฆโ€ The VIP just raises a singular eyebrow, and the gesture alone takes my breath away. Now that I can see him clearer, it's plain to see just how unfairly handsome he is. His expression shifts to one of disdain. โ€œRight,โ€ he begins, and his voice demands attention from everyone around us. He looks to the bar owner, who still has my arm in his grasp. โ€œDo you normally allow this kind of behavior in your establishment?โ€ โ€œNo! Of course not Mr. Avarise.โ€ The bar owner clearly wants to impress the guy. Mr. Avarise gives a faint nod to me, as if Iโ€™m nothing more than dirt on his shoe. โ€œThen I suggest you get rid of the problem.โ€ He says offhandedly. I feel like I should be offended for only a moment before the more rational side of my brain takes over. It was kind of an offensive move to kiss him without permission, I think, and my shame grows even further. โ€œCertainly, certainly.โ€ The bar owner begins to drag me off, and I stumble in his grasp. The VIP, Mr. Avarise, just gives a curt note and walks on, giving me one last piercing stare before he leaves to go towards the upstairs of the bar, followed by the blond man and his entire entourage. Theyโ€™re probably going to the exclusive VIP area on the upper floor, I realize. Once they leave, the bar owner lets go of me, and I see Bella walk up to where I am. Itโ€™s right about now I noticed just how many people were looking at this entire scene. This just keeps getting worse and worse! I internally scream. โ€œOkay, so, I canโ€™t really kick you out over something like that, butโ€ฆโ€ The bar owner sighs, and holds up some strange-looking clips of paper. โ€œHere are some free vouchers. If I give these to you, could I close your tab early and see you out?โ€ โ€œOf course!โ€ Bella interrupts, grabbing the vouchers out of his hand. โ€œWe were just leaving anyway!โ€ I feel myself nodding along. I am way too embarrassed by that entire affair to be sitting around the people who just saw me do that. Bella takes over closing the tab, and I cannot wait to get out of there. It's clear the other patrons were watching the entire scene, and all of my attention was focused on trying to leave. As soon as we walk out into the cool night air, Bella lets out a high, shrill laugh. โ€œWoooow! I didnโ€™t know you had that in you!โ€ She hollers, and I just put my face into my hands. โ€œThatโ€™s probably the boldest thing youโ€™ve ever done, Aria! Iโ€™m so proud, they grow up so fast!!โ€ Bella chimes in cheerily, looping her arm in mine as we start our drunk walk home. โ€œIโ€™m never doing something like that again,โ€ I vow. โ€œSeriously, it's just my luck he ended up being some big shot, huh!โ€ โ€œI know! What are the odds! Itโ€™s a shame he didnโ€™t seem to appreciate your attention.โ€ Bella shakes her head. โ€œYou couldโ€™ve probably gotten his number if he is less of a prude!โ€ โ€œYeah, right. Anyone normal would do the same thing if a random person kissed them out of nowhere.โ€ I assert. โ€œI was the misbehaved one there, if anything.โ€ โ€œI dunno, that kiss did seem really hot, though.โ€ Bella sighs wistfully, but I can tell sheโ€™s trying to be funny. โ€œPerhaps in another lifeโ€ฆ. I can see it now! Aria, the rich CEOโ€™s doting wife!โ€ โ€œOh, stop.โ€ I scoff, shoving her playfully. โ€œIf youโ€™re done telling jokes, letโ€™s focus on getting home. Iโ€™d rather not hear about whatever daydream fantasy you have in your head about my love life.โ€ I wake up the next morning with a piercing headache and a lingering feeling of shame. A typical Monday morning, all things considered. I slowly go through my morning routine, rolling out of bed, getting dressed, and cursing myself for not drinking enough water the night before. Itโ€™s only when I brush my teeth in the mirror that I remember everything that happened last night, and I let out a weary grunt of suffering. I am the worst human alive, I think, shoving my head into my hands. I am never going to drink tequila with Bella on Sundays ever again!! As my headache dissipates (thank you, painkillers), I notice that another part of my body seems to be smarting as well. I peel back my shirt collar to reveal a strange-looking mark. It looks almost like a burn, my skin raised red in the shape of crescent around my collarbone. When did I get that? I wonder. Probably something I did last night and forgot about. I write it off, vowing to pick up some kind of ointment for it while Iโ€™m out, and continue my morning routine. I dress pretty casually for today, partially because Iโ€™m taking care of a large number of dogs for today and partially because I am way too hungover to wear something cute but uncomfortable. I slip on some shades and head out the door to begin my walking route, picking up the dogs I need to walk along the way. Being a dog walker isn't glamorous, it's true, but it's something fun to do to make money along with my other part-time jobs. Besides, my neighborsโ€™ dogs are unfairly adorable, and they need someone to walk them while everyone else is away at work. Iโ€™ve always been a dog lover, so I donโ€™t really mind the simplicity of the job. I walk along with the various dogs, feeling a bit better as my headache lessens with every step. Seeing as it's a nice day, I decided to swing by the park. All five of the dogs seemed excited to play in the wide space today, so I quickened my pace to keep up with them. That is, until all of the dogs in my care suddenly come to a dead stop. Each one of them is looking forward, ears high and on alert. Iโ€™m a bit confused by the behavior, Iโ€™ve been walking them for a while and theyโ€™ve never done anything like this. I try to determine what has them on alert, and that's when I notice an extremely large dog bounding toward us. The dog appears to be a husky, but it's huge, much larger than any husky Iโ€™ve seen. I could almost confuse it for a wolf, until it gets closer and begins to try and sniff at me. My other dogs seem scared of it, moving out of their way and whimpering, trying to be still. These dogs are never still, so I exercise caution when I put my hand out for the husky to sniff. It nuzzles my hand, and it doesn't look aggressive in any way. It doesn't really seem all too dangerousโ€ฆ I think. I decide to bury my hands in its soft fur, giving it a few long head scratches. The wolf, no, husky, seems happy to be given attention. โ€œWho is your owner, little guy?โ€ I say offhandedly, not really expecting a response. โ€œSorry, that would be me.โ€ Iโ€™m startled by the shout of a deep, familiar male voice. I quickly remove my attention from the dog and spin around, coming face to face with that same handsome guy from last night running up to me. He isnโ€™t dressed as sharply as he was last night, but he is still a sight to behold. Broad shoulders under a clean white button down, dark long pants which are somehow free of any dog hair. His long black hair is tied up, revealing graying sideburns. The sun reveals that the dim lighting in the bar didn't hide anything, he really was just as handsome as I remembered! โ€œO-Oh, sorry, heโ€™s, uh, pretty friendly, huh?โ€ Heck! Just my luck! I inwardly panic, pulling myself away from his husky. I hope he doesn't recognize me! He narrows his gray eyes at me, and Iโ€™m once again captivated by that lingering stare. The hope of me remaining unrecognizable dies in my throat at his words. โ€œOh. Why is it you again?โ€ Chapter 3 โ€œAh, right! Umโ€ฆโ€ I nervously laugh, a habit Iโ€™ve never been able to fully get rid of. This is the worst thing that couldโ€™ve possibly happened to me this morning! He barely looks at me, his attention firmly focused on his dog. โ€œLucas.โ€ At just his words, the dog underneath my hand shifts, ears going straight up. He sits, ears at attention, but refuses to leave my side. Mr. Avarise seemed a bit frustrated, and I hurried to try and find some way to salvage this horrible social interaction. โ€œI...-I am really sorry about last night,โ€ I start, trying for a smile. โ€œI was super drunk, andโ€ฆ well, you could probably tell that, I just mean-โ€ โ€œItโ€™s fine.โ€ He cuts me off, his tone cold. โ€œR-Right.โ€ I stutter. He seems unwilling to continue any kind of conversation, so I do what I normally do in any social situation where Iโ€™m in over my head; try to pet the nearest animal. Thankfully, the dog (apparently named Lucas) was still sitting right in front of me. I stick my hand out, eager to pet him again. Wait.โ€ The VIPโ€™s tone is so commanding it stops me in my tracks. I look back up at him, and he stares at me warily. โ€œI donโ€™t know what method you used to make Lucas run to you, but he is not an affectionate dog. He bites.โ€ โ€œHe ran here on his own. Andโ€ฆ he seemed fine when I pet him earlier,โ€ I remark, and a look of surprise crosses over Mr. Avariseโ€™s handsome features. To prove Iโ€™m not lying, I let my hands brush over Lucasโ€™ head, and sure enough, the dog seemed right at home. Panting heavily, tail wagging, he seems extremely enthusiastic to have my hands in his gray fur. โ€œHow did you manage that?โ€ He asks, and he genuinely sounds interested. โ€œLucas isโ€ฆ particularly picky with who he likes.โ€ โ€œOh, wellโ€ฆโ€ I flounder for a bit, unsure as to how I can explain. โ€œDogs have always liked me, ever since I was young. In fact, Iโ€™m the most professional dog walker in the area!โ€ I try to put off a cheery attitude despite my low energy this morning. โ€œIf you need some help with him, let me know, I could-โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t need to pay someone to do something so frivolous.โ€ He states, and the words stop me in my tracks. Right, he still hates me for last night. I think. โ€œRight, sorry.โ€ I stop my fervent petting of Lucas, and level him with an apologetic smile. โ€œI just realized, you donโ€™t even really know me, and Iโ€™m here asking to take care of your dogโ€ฆโ€ โ€œIโ€™m Aria.โ€ I hold my hand out, hoping that he doesnโ€™t hate me enough to rebuke me. He stares at my hand for only a moment before taking it, his grip firm and unflinching. โ€œDarren. Darren Avarise.โ€ I feel a rush of relief, finally happy Iโ€™ve learned his name after so long. โ€œRight! Um,โ€ I took a look around, seeing how my other dogs seemed to cower away from Lucas. I feel a spark of worry hit me as I notice, and I deduce that getting them away from Lucas would probably be the wisest option, before they start getting all riled up. โ€œI suppose Iโ€™ll let you get on with your day then!โ€ I say, feeling a bit awkward and worried Iโ€™m taking up too much of his time. โ€œLikewise.โ€ He states neutrally. I take a step away from Lucas, but as I do, Lucas quickly lunges. His teeth grab onto my sweatpants, not roughly, just enough to try to get me to stay. I look down at Lucas in alarm before looking up at Darren. He seems just as surprised as me, eyes locked onto his dog. The two of them exchange glances, almost like they are having some kind of mental battle, and I canโ€™t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of whatโ€™s happening to me. โ€œAh, guess he really likes my pants,โ€ I say nervously, giving a little pat on his head, and encouraging Lucas to let go. With my goading, he reluctantly lets go of the black fabric. I let out a laugh, almost unintentionally. โ€œWhat a sweetheartโ€ฆโ€ I say offhandedly. The dog really was cute, even if he was much bigger than almost any other dog Iโ€™ve ever seen. As much as I want to stay here petting Lucas all day, I get the feeling Darren wouldnโ€™t approve. โ€œWait.โ€ As I begin to start walking off, Iโ€™m stopped by Darrenโ€™s commanding voice. โ€œIโ€ฆ It isโ€ฆrare to find someone Lucas accepts.โ€ He says every word begrudgingly, almost like he regrets even stopping me. โ€œWhat is your contact information?โ€ โ€œO-Oh! Um, here!โ€ I hold out my business card, thankful that I usually remember to bring them on my dog walks. Iโ€™m completely shocked that heโ€™s actually giving me a chance! I let a genuine smile out as he goes to grab it, my fingers mere inches from his. โ€œThat should have my email and everything,โ€ I say, and thereโ€™s a moment he stares me down, gray eyes cataloging my face. I canโ€™t help but blush under the scrutiny, and he quickly takes the card away from me. โ€œDonโ€™t worry about it. Itโ€™s just a precaution.โ€ He says quickly. โ€œStill, I appreciate it.โ€ He gives me one last glare before he looks back down at his dog. โ€œLucas, Come.โ€ He states with his commanding tone, and the dog gives me one last look before it bounds back to its owner, seemingly full of energy. Darren quickly turns around without as much as a goodbye. โ€œUm! Hope you and Lucas have a good day!โ€ I let out, and Darren merely waved his hand above his head in lieu of a verbal goodbye. I canโ€™t help thinking it rude before I write it off as him being busy. A rich guy like him probably has better things to do on a Monday than let me pet his dog all day! I canโ€™t help but think. Come to think of it, so do I. I look down at all the dogs around me, who have perked up with energy now that Lucas has left. I quickly resume my walk, replaying the interaction in my head over and over. I canโ€™t wait to tell Bella! After I finish my walk, return home, and take a shower, Iโ€™m still thinking over what happened. I canโ€™t believe he actually wanted my help. Considering what a bad first impression I made, it wouldn't have been out of the ordinary if he just yelled in my face for even daring to touch him. The fact he was willing to give me a chance was a miracle. That is, if I call him. I canโ€™t help but remind myself. I sit down at my computer, trying to put the interaction out of my thoughts for now so I can actually focus on working through my emails. Instantly, when I open up my email, one sticks out in particular. An email from that pet company I applied to ages ago! I quickly opened it up, and I swear I could feel my heart skip a beat. They actually want an interview with me! Chapter 4 I quickly began to try to get ready for the interview, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. I take the fastest shower of my life in order to wash off any lingering dog hairs. Iโ€™d applied to them almost three months ago, and received radio silence in response. It was a bit of a long shot of an application anyway, I hadn't thought I had high chances of getting in anyway. By now, I thought it was a lost opportunity, I never thought that theyโ€™d actually reply! I took care in selecting what outfit to wear. I never got to go to college, so big jobs like these were always such a long shot to get in. I could only ever get freelance and part-time jobs, which made employers think I wasnโ€™t stable enough a lot of the time. If I was able to grab this job, it would be the exact stability I was looking for! Plus, with that stability, I could actually go ahead and adopt a dog, just like I've always wanted to. Along with the other benefits that come with stability, like an actual disposable income. I put on the best outfit I had, a red business suit with a long professional-length skirt, and hurried to the location detailed in the email. Iโ€™d run out of time trying to get ready, so I did my makeup on the subway, not even really caring about the stares I was receiving. My heart was leaping out of my throat, extremely nervous about being accepted into such a stable position. My hands twisted in my red skirt, and I couldn't help but continue to check my reflection on any surface to see if my makeup was perfect. Try to calm down, I think to myself. Itโ€™s just an advertising job for the dog-focused department. You know dogs! Youโ€™ve worked at dog shelters for years, and youโ€™ve done excellent work with creative writing gigs. You got this! I repeated that self-affirmation over and over internally as I exited the train and headed over towards the company building. It was an imposing steel structure deep within the business area of the city. I swallowed my nerves and headed inside, head held high. As soon as I entered the modern-looking welcoming area, I felt dozens of pairs of eyes on me. It seemed like everyone around me was looking in my direction, and I could feel myself blush. Am I really that odd-looking? I think Maybe the red was a mistake? I head to the main reception area, trying to dispel my nerves. โ€œHi, Iโ€™m here for an interview?โ€ I ask once I reach the main desk. The receptionists, a man and a woman, look at me in surprise for a solid moment. I dart them a confused smile, and the woman looks back at her computer, analyzing something behind the screen. The man joins her, and they both give a few suspicious looks towards me and back at the computer. โ€œYouโ€™re human?โ€ The man asks me. โ€œPardon?โ€ I ask, but he doesn't repeat himself. I awkwardly laugh, figuring it's some weird joke. โ€œUh, I mean, what else would I be?โ€ The two of them stare at me for a charged moment before they start to exchange words, too hushed for me to hear. I start to think I've got the wrong address, that is, until the woman steps out from behind the desk. โ€œCome with me,โ€ She says unenthusiastically, and I hesitantly follow her as she begins to walk through the complex. Everywhere we go, I seem to draw attention, eyes and heads turning to look exactly at me. I start to look at myself in the many reflective doors we pass by, but I donโ€™t see anything outwardly strange about my appearance. Why is everyone looking at me? Am I just imagining it? I try to put them out of my mind as Iโ€™m led right up to the small interview room. The receptionist gestures for me to open it, and once I do, I see a well-dressed-looking man with a pair of large glasses on his face. The first thing he asks upon shaking my hand throws me once again. โ€œHuman?โ€ His handshake is firm, and I try to match its intensity. I nervously laugh. They must really like this joke at this pet company, huh? I think. โ€œYes, of course,โ€ I say like Iโ€™m in on the joke. The glasses on the man's face do nothing to hide the disdain. He seems almostโ€ฆ disappointed by my answer? โ€œUh, haha, right.โ€ He says, taking a seat at his desk. I quickly sat on the opposite side, eager to really impress him. โ€œI just want to say, Iโ€™m super thankful for this opportunity,โ€ I say with a smile. โ€œIโ€™ve always been super passionate about dogs, ever since I was young!โ€ โ€œMmhmm.โ€ The interviewer isn't even looking at me, heโ€™s on his computer, looking at something else. Iโ€™m a little insulted, but I try to carry on. โ€œRight. Well, I think Iโ€™ve got a lot of experience for the position, Iโ€™ve done a lot of freelance writing, and with my extensive experience with your main clientele, I think-โ€ โ€œLook,โ€ The man interrupted me, and I quickly shut up, mentally cursing my nerves. You talked too much!! โ€œIโ€™ll be honest with you, I donโ€™t think your experience is going to be relevant here.โ€ โ€œP-Pardon?โ€ โ€œYour education is also lackluster. I donโ€™t really think you have the requirements to join our company.โ€ His words hit me like a slap to the face. I feel a twinge of rage mixed in with my overwhelming shock. โ€œI donโ€™t understand,โ€ I start, trying to keep my composure. โ€œWhy call me in if I didnโ€™t meet the requirements? You had that information already!โ€ โ€œAh, my apologies then,โ€ he says, and I can tell he isnโ€™t slightly sorry. He still isn't even looking at me, just locked onto his computer screen. โ€œOur system glitches sometimes, it was probably a mistake that your resume was accepted.โ€ โ€œMy job application was submitted three months ago,โ€ I say, feeling more heartbroken with every second I spend in this room. โ€œWhy accept a monthsโ€™ old application if you aren't even interested?โ€ โ€œLook, weโ€™re very sorry, but you just don't meet our requirements. One of my subordinates must have made some kind of mistake.โ€ I can feel angry hot tears start to form in my eyes, but before I can say another word, the door to the room opens with a slam. โ€œI called her in.โ€ Darrenโ€™s at the door, Lucas right on his heels. Lucas quickly ran in and circled around the chair I was sitting in, clearly happy to see me. โ€œDo you think that was my mistake?โ€ โ€œOh! Um, of course not, Alp-โ€ He cuts himself off, looking at me. โ€œSir Avarise.โ€ Darren glares at him, and suddenly the pieces are starting to connect. I sit there shocked as Lucas starts to nudge at me with his wet nose. This is when I realized Darren must be his boss, and this interview was set up right after I talked to him this morning. Did he actually want to hire me? Even though he said he didnโ€™t want to before? And more importantlyโ€ฆdid that mean I accidentally kissed the CEO of a multimillion-dollar pet company last night?! I canโ€™t help but inwardly scream. Chapter 5 โ€œMy apologies, Sir.โ€ The interviewer grabs a few papers, looking eager to leave. โ€œI didnโ€™t know it was you who requested such an interview. Iโ€™d never question the Alphaโ€™s decision.โ€ Alpha? I almost ask, but I figure itโ€™s some weird โ€˜employee-at-a-pet-companyโ€™ hierarchy gimmick. These people are strange! โ€œSee that you donโ€™t,โ€ Darren says, and with a single dismissive nod, the interviewer leaves quickly. The two of us stand in the room for a moment, and I canโ€™t help but let my questions bubble to the surface. โ€œSo, youโ€™re the boss around here?โ€ โ€œIndeed.โ€ He answers cooly, and I feel my temper rise โ€œSo you did want to hire me,โ€ I say, standing up from my seat. โ€œWhy? I thought you didnโ€™t want someone โ€˜frivolousโ€™.โ€ I couldnโ€™t help but throw up air quotes, a little annoyed by the fact he made me nervous for no reason. He couldโ€™ve just asked me to work for him at the park, honestly! Making me go through this whole embarrassing situation left me wrong-footed. โ€œLucas was very taken by you,โ€ Darren says simply, and I feel my eyebrows rise in surprise. โ€œHe becameโ€ฆ restless, upon our return home.โ€ โ€œReally? He liked me that much?โ€ โ€œIt appears so.โ€ He seems a little annoyed by the fact. โ€œName a price, any price, and Iโ€™ll hire you to be his full-time caretaker.โ€ โ€œWellโ€ฆโ€ I hesitated, feeling off-balance. A gig like that sounded extremely tempting, not to mention lucrative. But, if it ever fell through, Iโ€™d be right back where I started with no way to support myself long-term. I pause before speaking up again; โ€œI only applied here so I could work in the advertising department. Did you even look at my resume?โ€ โ€œYou wouldn't have to work in this position.โ€ Darren asserted. โ€œIt would be more trouble than it's worth, not to mention more work. All I need is a full-time dog sitter.โ€ โ€œWell-โ€ He senses my hesitation, and he leaps to interrupt me. โ€œYou could be making double what you would be if you worked here traditionally. Like I said, name your price, and I will accommodate.โ€ โ€œLook, Darren, it's awfully nice of you to offer,โ€ I start, looking him over. His expression is intense, and I get the feeling heโ€™s probably used to just getting his way with a snap of his fingers. He wants me specifically, for what reason Iโ€™m not sure, but it's clear I do have some leverage here. โ€œHonestly, if caring for Lucas is the only reason you hired me, I donโ€™t think I can accept your deal. Donโ€™t get me wrong; I like dog sitting, and Lucas is a sweetheart, butโ€ฆโ€ I try for a weak smile. โ€œWell, a job with more stability and advancement is something Iโ€™ve been really searching for. If that isn't in the cards thenโ€ฆ you might as well not hire me at all.โ€ I begin to take a step towards the door, but Lucas stops me in my tracks. He practically howls, the sound sharp in the small interview room. I take a step back in surprise, and Lucas looks at me with shining puppy-dog eyes. He seems really distressed, and he rushes to stand right in between me and the door. I look back up at Darren, who seems lost in thought. Darren POV โ€˜Let Mommy stay!โ€™ Lucas said in our mind link, sounding on the brink of a temper tantrum. I canโ€™t help but let my frustration show through our link. โ€˜How many times do I have to tell you, sheโ€™s human! Not your Mommy!โ€™ I let out a sigh outwardly. I look back at this human, her face hopeful and innocent-looking. If I were to hire her as an employee, sheโ€™d be entering into the werewolf world. Humans are not usually hired at my company, with only a few exceptions to that rule, and there's a good reason for it. Her life would be in constant danger, as no humans could ever learn of our existence. Not to mention, if she ever found out that Lucas was my son, Iโ€™d be the one signing her death warrant. She would most likely find out about Lucas the longer she takes care of him, as the date of his first shift out of his wolf form draws near. Theyโ€™d have to keep up the charade that heโ€™s just a wolf until he was much too old for it. But, I do need her. I remind myself. No one at the company can even get near Lucas, let alone seek his approval. My Beta Liam, my assistants, no one could cater to his needs effectively. And I cannot keep dragging him into business meetings or on international flights, it just wasnโ€™t feasible. Especially once he shifts out of his wolf form, it would just be too inconvenient. Heโ€™s never liked anyone but me taking care of him. But for some reason, he likes this human, Aria. Even now, Lucas seems in a happier mood just upon seeing her. Having her help would be immensely beneficial for me and my company, not to mention my sonโ€™s well-being. I let out a mental grunt, trying to weigh out my options. โ€˜I can hear you thinking from where I am, halfway across the office,โ€™ I hear the words of my Beta, Liam, in my mind through our link. โ€˜The human is playing hardball?โ€™ โ€˜It seems so.โ€™ I send the memory of my current conversation with Aria through the link, along with my thoughts on the matter. โ€˜In my opinion, Alpha, the pros outweigh the consโ€™ Liam sends. โ€˜Having her take care of him saves you time and leaves you free for business trips. The only complication would be forcing Lucas to stay in his wolf form around her.โ€™ โ€˜That will be harder to maintain as he grows upโ€™ I remind him. โ€˜We can cross that bridge when we get to it.โ€™ He says, and I realize I canโ€™t help but agree with his points. โ€˜Besides, if she ever does find out, weโ€™d just have to silence her, like we have with every other mortal who found out about us. It wouldnโ€™t be difficult.โ€™ โ€˜That won't happen.โ€™ For some reason, the idea of murdering this human sends a wave of displeasure through me. I quickly suppress the feeling so it doesn't transfer through my mind link with Liam. โ€˜Beta, ensure the employees are made aware of ourโ€ฆ newest human applicant.โ€™ โ€˜Right away, Alpha.โ€™ He sends one last link before the connection is muted. I force my mind to the present, my focus directly on the shorter human woman in front of me. โ€œFine. I accept your terms.โ€ I state, and the relief is evident on her face. โ€œBut, you start as an intern. If you do a good enough job here, we can start you full-time. And you will take care of Lucas when the need arises.โ€ โ€œO-Of course!โ€ I see Ariaโ€™s face light up in joy, โ€œThatโ€™s excellent. I wonโ€™t let you down!โ€ I canโ€™t help but feel satisfied with her ambition and determination to rise to the challenge. However, I also feel a small bit of worry enter my heart. I make a silent promise. You better not uncover our secret, human. LEARN_MORE https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&u Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 2,500 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 befant.com IMAGE https://befant.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18672&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/t39.35426-6/481252847_640224505064309_4025717122772364035_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6ab4yirXW9wQ7kNvgGY7PDj&_nc_oc=Adi034joZE2Xz7dBfDEnxY-IgGlQbZxbQ-BxhKu8r-lAyZSworCFNs0sZJhtMgo4T3R7J5JLIK2H_3pGFiiwD9eh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AbGKy0damPeNnFyonOcceR6&oh=00_AYDYj1qMHIxy7YgVeaBd24H_70Zuv6vHDrQP5DFgKZc6oA&oe=67CC0607 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ๐Ÿ”ฅNEW POPULAR READ๐Ÿ”ฅ I am standing here, watching as she packs her stuff. I have tried to talk to her, wanted to make her tell me what is going on in her head. I have tried to find out why my mate, my daughterโ€™s mom, wants to leave me. I have been everything I possibly can be for her while she carried our daughter. I show her my respect and my trust. I had her help with the pack as my Luna. I thought we were good. โ€œMia, sweetheart, please talk to me. What happened?โ€ I try to take her into my arms, but she steps away. โ€œDonโ€™t; I am done. I am tired of this.โ€ She says, not even looking at me. โ€œTired about what? Mia, please.โ€ I beg her. โ€œEverything.โ€ She sneers. โ€œI hate this life; I hate being here. I hate being a mom. I wasnโ€™t ready for that.โ€ โ€œYou know we canโ€™t control what happens when you go to heat Mia. We will manage. I will help you. Like I have been all the time. Youโ€™re not alone. She is ours.โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t want her!โ€ she screams at me. And I look at her. โ€œMia, please donโ€™t do this. We can figure it out together,โ€ I tell her. โ€œNo, you can keep her. I donโ€™t want her. I just want to travel and enjoy my life. Not think about a mate or a baby.โ€ โ€œWe can still travel, sweetheart.โ€ She doesnโ€™t answer. Grab her bags and turn to me. โ€œNo, I donโ€™t want to be a mother. I donโ€™t want her or you.โ€ I gasped, already feeling my heart being ripped. โ€œI, Mia Andrews, Reject you, Alpha Logan, and my daughter Rosalie. I denounce my role as Luna for the Pack.โ€ My heart is being ripped apart. Feeling her rejection, also she denounces the pack. โ€œGoodbye, Logan.โ€ She left. She left and didnโ€™t think twice about it. She left, ripping half of my heart. Titan was whining in my head, wanting his mate. I was on the floor, fighting not to fall apart. A loud cry rips through me, and I realize it is coming from the nursery. I get up and walk into the nursery, and there in her cradle, my little, sweet, beautiful baby girl is crying. I know, without a doubt, that she must have felt the family bond break when Mia rejected her as her daughter. I lift her. I know what I need to do, not only for my sake but for my daughter, who I now have to raise on my own. I can still feel the bit that is left of our bond after she rejected me. And I need to erase that if I am going to find out how to deal and move on. So I feel for the rest of our bond and find the mind link. โ€˜I, Nathan King, accept the rejection and denounce of my mate and Luna, and as the mother of my daughter. I, with this, ban her from the Pack.โ€™ I feel the last piece of my bond with Mia disappear. I will devote myself to my little girl. Raise her to be a strong and kind person. I will fight to be everything she can need in her life. I will do anything to keep her safe and happy. My pack must have felt what happened, but I cannot deal with that today. Today itโ€™s about me and my little rose. I am Logan King. I am nineteen and have been The Alpha of my pack. The strongest pack there is in North America since I was seventeen. Not only are we the strongest pack, but I am also the youngest Alpha and the strongest one seen in several decades. When I turned sixteen and didnโ€™t get my wolf, my parents were worried, but the day I turned seventeen, Titan came to me, and I finally met my wolf. Everyone had been shocked by his size and the incredible strength and power that came from Titan. A few months after I had gotten Titan, our pack was attacked by rouges, and even though we won, I lost my parents. Despite only being seventeen, I was chosen to be the Alpha, and from that day, I have done everything to keep my pack safe. Chapter 2 OLIVIA - Present Time โ€œHarder, Olivia. I know you can be better than this.โ€ My brother Matt with the demanding tone of a teacher. Trying to satisfy him, I kick the bag harder and faster and do a series of mixed-up kicks and hits. Looking behind me, I see him nod approvingly. โ€œMuch better. Come sit down.โ€ And I walk over and sit down next to my classmates. Itโ€™s Friday, and every Friday, he tests us. Sometimes like this where we show strength on the boxing bag. Other times we fight him or each other. My brother is an awesome teacher, but he is also trained by our dad, just like I am. Our dad is one of the best warriors in the pack, and for him, it doesnโ€™t matter if you are a boy or a girl. Saying we live in a dangerous world, he thinks that every wolf should be able to fight, at the least, to protect themselves. So since I was a kid, I had been trained solely by my dad until I was old enough to join the first training program. Many say that dad is the best warrior, but when the old head warrior passed away, Alpha chose a close friend of his instead. Dad had said nothing and just went on with his life as usual. Taking care of Matt and me after our mom died from Wolfsbane, how she was poisoned no one knew. Being Friday, our Alpha, Alpha Colton, came by to see how training goes. I had started to become very uncomfortable whenever Alpha was around. Because of everything, I would find him following me around with his eyes. And when I caught him doing it, he would wink at me. Some pack members say that Alpha has started going insane after his mate and Luna was taken down during a rouge attack. They say he has become unpredictable and has ordered many female wolves to his room, where some of them didnโ€™t leave from there alive. Everyone thinks he should retire and let his son Carter take over, but he refuses and says his son isnโ€™t ready. Carter was okay, not someone I had ever had a whole lot of contact with, but he seemed fair and friendly with everyone in the pack. He was 22 years old and had yet to find his mate. I sat here, lost in my thoughts, and a big shadow suddenly covered me. Looking up, I saw Alpha Colton looking down at me before sitting down next to me. โ€œYou are a very skilled fighter, Olivia.โ€ He said as he looked me over, his eyes checking out my curves. โ€œThank you, Alpha,โ€ I answered, trying to hide, but it was hard since I was wearing shorts and a sports bra. โ€œAnd very beautiful. You look just like your mother.โ€ His eyes checked me out again, making me want to crawl out of my skin and hide. Before I can answer, my brother comes over and respectfully greet our Alpha before he tells me to go home for today. I jump up, grateful for being told to leave, and hurry out after saying my goodbyes. Entering our little house, I go straight to my room. Finding your mate is a huge deal. Your mate is your soulmate, the last piece of yourself. We can sense our wolves when we turn sixteen, but our wolves are not able to shift or recognize their mate before we turn eighteen. It does happen that a guy will sense his mate even though she is not eighteen. But most times that this happens, the guy waits without saying anything. It also happens that mates reject each other. For the one doing the rejection, it means he or she wonโ€™t get a chance of a second chance, mate, which happens mostly if someone loses their mate. But not everyone gets a second chance. We also donโ€™t communicate with our wolf fully before turning eighteen. So we donโ€™t talk all the time. Our communication is by emotions, which can be a little distracting if you get a sassy wolf. By dinnertime, I went downstairs and had dinner with my dad and brother. But unusual go how we always talk and have fun. It was quiet and tense. I didnโ€™t ask why assuming dad must have had a stressful day. โ€œOlivia?โ€ โ€œYes, dad?โ€ I looked up at him. โ€œTomorrow, I want you to pack a bag. We are going to visit your grandparents at another park. And we leave Sunday, so make sure to pack anything important you wouldnโ€™t want to leave behind, as we will be gone for a while.โ€ He tells me, making me look at him. โ€œWhy? Is something wrong?โ€ I ask. โ€œYour grandparents are getting old, and they miss you two. So we agreed we would go there for a while. It has all been agreed to by our Alpha to go visit some family and also the Alpha of the pack.โ€ He explains. โ€œOkay, dad. I will pack tomorrow.โ€ I answer, and he smiles. When we are done eating, I help with cleaning up and then hug dad before I go to be at the party. Matt is joining me because she-wolf could be his mate, and he is becoming anxious about finding her soon. After being at the party for an hour, we saw the girl find her mate among one of the newly shifted guys. Again I was so lost in thoughts that I didnโ€™t see the person approaching me before sitting next to me. And I am a little shocked to see Carter, the Alphasโ€™ son, sit down next to me. โ€œHello, Olivia.โ€œ He greets me. โ€œHello, Alpha Carter,โ€ I answered respectfully. โ€œAh, I am not the Alpha, so just Carter.โ€ He says, smiling, and I smile back โ€œI hear you and your family are going to visit some family from another pack.โ€ โ€œYes, we are,โ€ I confirm. โ€œThat is great.โ€ He says, still smiling, and after a little while, he stands up and mingles with the many teens here. After another few hours, Matt finds me, and we agree to go home. As we were on our way, we heard someone call our names, and someone came running toward us. Turning around, we are shocked to see it is Carter. Matt, Olivia.โ€ He greets us before continuing. โ€œI wanted to talk with you.โ€ He says and looks at us. โ€œWhat can we do for you, Alpha,โ€ Matt says, taking charge. โ€œPlease, Matt, donโ€™t call me Alpha, and I want to help you.โ€ He says, and we look at him, me unsure about what he wants to help us with. โ€œWhen you go visit the other pack. Donโ€™t come back, especially you, Olivia. Stay there, where you can be safe.โ€ โ€œWhat do.โ€ I begin, but Matt cuts in. โ€œIt is all under control Carter,โ€ Matt says, looking at Carter, that looks back at him and nods. โ€œGood, know I am sorry and trying to end it. I wish you all safe travels.โ€ With those words, he left. Chapter 3 OLIVIA Matt had refused to say anything about what Carter had said and what he had answered him and just said I would understand soon. I nodded and then go to my room to have a good rest. When I wake up, the house is quiet, and I look at the time and see it is already 9 in the morning. This makes me wonder because usually, dad would have had us out running like we do every morning. Halfway down the stairs, I hear dad and Matt talk. โ€œShe knows something is up, dad.โ€ โ€œWhat do you mean?โ€ โ€œCarter came to us on our way home and told us not to come back and stay at that pack where she would be safe. I donโ€™t think he meant any harm, though, but just wanted to help.โ€ โ€œCarter is a good boy.โ€ โ€œYes, but now Liv is suspicious. I donโ€™t think she knows what is going on with Alpha. But itโ€™s clear she has been feeling uncomfortable.โ€ Matt says. โ€œI will talk to her when we have left here and are safely in our pack.โ€ There is no answer to dadโ€™s words, and after that and they begin to talk about other stuff. I know something is going on, and this something has something to do with me. After a little I move again and enter the kitchen, seeing both of them sitting by the table where breakfast is served. โ€œMorning, Muffin. Are you feeling well?โ€ My dad asks โ€œYes, we not going running?โ€ I ask him, and he shakes his head. โ€œI thought a day off was okay, so we have time to pack so we can leave in the morning.โ€ โ€œOkay, dad,โ€ I say without showing he is hiding something. After breakfast, I go back to my room, find my biggest travel bag, and pack almost all my clothes in it. And in my smaller bag, I pack my stuff and a few items I have from my mom. I have a feeling that I will not be coming back here, so I want to be sure I have all the most important things packed. After I am done, I walk downstairs again to find dad. I find him in the kitchen talking on his phone, so I sit down and wait for him to finish. โ€œThatโ€™s great, thank you. We will see you all tomorrow, probably in the late afternoon.โ€ Dad says before hanging up. โ€œThat was your grandma. She canโ€™t wait to see you and Matt. Did you finish packing?โ€ He asks. โ€œYes, all packed and ready,โ€ I confirm. โ€œGreat. Then rest here at home today so you wonโ€™t be too tired to travel.โ€ He tells me, and I nod my head. I know that in those words was a hidden message. Donโ€™t go outside today. โ€œOkay, dad.โ€ I was so bored being here at home, so I wore my air pods and turned on my music app, and before I knew it, I was singing along. Dad didnโ€™t leave the house either, and Matt was also home. - LOGAN I was sitting in my office when someone knocked on my door. I told whomever it was to come in. The door opened, and my Beta Luca came inside the office. โ€œI talked with the Jones, they talked with their son-in-law, and he will try to get them here by tomorrow.โ€ He informed me. โ€œOkay, get a house ready. See, if not, there is one close by the Jones family.โ€ I tell him. โ€œWill do. I also informed the warriors doing patrols for the next few days, just to be on the safe side.โ€ โ€œThank you, thatโ€™s a good idea.โ€ This is why he is my Beta, he always thinks ahead, and I donโ€™t have to tell or remind him of things. And he is my best friend. We do a little small talking and talk about what to expect. A few days ago, I had a visit from Nina and Michael Jones, two highly respected members of my pack. They told me about how their Son-in-law had contacted them, asking for help. He told them that his pack Alpha was showing an unhealthy interest in his underage daughter, which worried him a lot, especially when his Alpha called him to the office. Offering him the role of being the pack head warrior if he would willingly give him his daughter to make his mate. The Alpha had lost his mate years ago, and now he had set his eyes on this young girl. Not only was she not eighteen, and she was a month away from her birthday. Not only is the Alpha in his 40s, but that is in no way acceptable to try to force someone to become their mate. So I told them they were all welcome here without thinking much about it. For some reason, my wolf was restless with this news. But his being restless is not something new. I donโ€™t let him out as often as I should. Because I know he frightens most of my pack members. While Luca and I were talking, the door opened again, and before I knew it, I had my little Rose jumping up to sit on my lap. She is three years old now and turning four in 10 days. โ€œHello, daddy.โ€ She says happily. โ€œHello, my little Rose. Are you ready for dinner?โ€ โ€œYes, daddy.โ€ We walk to the big dining room where pack members can choose to come and eat. After dinner, I took her up to my floor, and we spent time playing and later watching Beauty and the beast. Chapter 4 OLIVIA The day had been so boring, but because I didnโ€™t want to worry my dad, I had not left the house all day. โ€œMuffin, wake up.โ€ I opened my eyes, startled, and I saw my dad nudging me gently to wake up. โ€œDad? What time is it.โ€ โ€œ2:40, we have to go, Muffin. The car is packed. Get clothes on and come downstairs.โ€ He got up and left me to get dressed. I was confused. But I got up and dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. I wanted to feel comfortable while we traveled. I could feel how Skye was feeling anxious and nervous, and that made me nervous because I had never felt emotions like these from her. Coming downstairs, it did slip my trained eyes that Matt packed some weapons in a bag. And as wolves, we never use actual weapons. We are a weapon ourselves. So it did not ease my frustration and nervousness to see him pack them. โ€œDad is in the car. Letโ€™s go.โ€ He tells me. We walk outside and see dad in the car but with the lights off. We get in Matt in the passenger seat, and I sit in the back. Dad slowly drives away from the house, and I get the feeling that I will never see it again. When we reach the border of our territory, two patrols step forward, together with another tall figure we first canโ€™t see who is. As we get closer, I see it is Carter, and dad rolls his window down a little. โ€œMr. Moore. Good to see you got here undetected.โ€ He greets dad, who nods at his words. โ€œThank you, Alpha. For everything.โ€ Dad says. โ€œI am not Alpha yet, so itโ€™s just Carter. I wish you safe travels and a future.โ€ โ€œThank you, Carter. Youโ€™re a good person.โ€ They shake hands, then dad starts driving again, and soon we are out of the territory, and dad turn on the lights on the car when we hit the main road. Four hours after we left the territory, dad held into a gas station at tank gas. When he was done and had come back inside the car, he turned to look at me. โ€œMuffin, I am going to ask you to do something very difficult, and it will make you feel weak for a while until we get to that pack,โ€ Dad says and looks at me. โ€œDo what, dad?โ€ I ask him. โ€œWe have to denounce our place as a pack member of the Dark Forest Pack. But it will just be until we get to the pack, then their Alpha will invite us into his Pack.โ€ โ€œBut why? You donโ€™t have to do that just to visit another Pack.โ€ I say, I know something is up, and I want to know. โ€œWe have to leave Dark Forest. Alpha is not in his right mind. And he is interested in you, Dad tells me, and I feel disgusting. โ€œBut he is so old. How can he think I would want to do that.โ€ I ask. โ€œHe doesnโ€™t care about that, Liv,โ€ Matt says, using my nickname. โ€œYour motherโ€™s parents talked to their Alpha, and he has offered us a place there. He is a young Alpha but very, very strong. We will be safe there, and you will be safe there.โ€ Dad says. โ€œOkay.โ€ โ€œWe will talk more when we are there, okay?โ€ Dad asks, and I nod my head. And then we all denounce our place as pack members of the Dark Forest. The first dad did it, then Matt, and then it was my turn. โ€œI, Olivia Moore, daughter of Klaus and Nora Moore, denounce my place as a pack member of the Dark Forest Pack and choose to become a rouge.โ€ It frustrates me so badly that I feel the pack link break and the feeling of belonging somewhere disappeared. I gasped in pain for just a second. โ€œI know it hurts, muffin, but itโ€™s for the best.โ€ Dad soothes me, and I nod my head. After it was over, Dad started driving again, and then the sounds of a phone rang. Matt looked at dadโ€™s phone. โ€œItโ€™s Alpha Colton.โ€ He tells Dad. And he let it ring out, but then his phone started ringing, and when it was left unanswered, mine announced an incoming call from a number I didnโ€™t know. โ€œDonโ€™t answer. Save your pictures and anything else important to the sky, then turn off your phone and throw it out the window so that they canโ€™t trace us.โ€ Dad says, and we do as he is told us. โ€œBut doesnโ€™t he know where we are going?โ€ I ask as I throw my phone out the window. โ€œNot entirely. I told him we were visiting some of your mother's family. And he knows she has two sisters that both moved to other packs when they found their mates. So it could be anywhere that we go too.โ€ Dad tells me. And I nod I realized that there must have been so much planning put into this. And I knew it was not an overreaction, I mean, I had noticed how Alpha Colton always seemed to put his eyes on me, and it always made me feel so uncomfortable. After another 3 hours of driving and one bathroom break, we left the main roads and came into an area with the most amazing forest I had ever seen. And on the horizon far back, I could see big mountains shoot up and a waterfall, I think. None of us said anything for a long time, and I just looked out of the window, rolling it down and taking in the fresh air. I gasped when I saw something huge move fast between the trees, and a scent of pinewood and caramel hit my nose, but before I could properly see it, it was gone. After a bit of time, dad stopped the car in the middle of nowhere, and just as I was about to ask why we stopped, four big men stepped out onto the road. Two of them were warriors, but the last two were even bigger, one being bigger than the other. The two warriors stayed where they were, but the smallest one of the two others began walking towards our car. Dad looked at us, told us to stay in the car, and then got out. They shook hands when he met the person in front of our car. They talked a little, and dad walked with him to meet the other person. I tried to get a good look at him, but it was like he avoided looking our way. And soon, dad returned to the car and smiled as he got in. โ€œThat was the Beta and the Alpha himself. We were out for a run when he sensed us. We will follow the Beta while the Alpha returns to the pack and waits for us.โ€ He says. โ€œHe is one big wolf, isnโ€™t he?โ€ Matt says. โ€œHe is, and I have never felt a power like the one coming from him, so be respectful.โ€ Dad answer and starts the car to follow the big wolf that the Beta shifted into. Chapter 5 LOGAN Oh, no! I had so much pent-up restless energy today, so when the morning training session was over, I decided to go for a run, informed my pack and patrols, and then ran. I had been running for a while when Titan began to slow down and become aware of our surroundings. โ€˜Someone is here.โ€™ His powerful voice tells me in my head. โ€˜It is probably the family we are waiting for to arrive.โ€™ I remind him. And he takes a turn towards the roads. And I mind linking Luca, telling him I think they have arrived. When we get closer, I catch the faint smell of something delicious, and the scent is getting closer. I see the car driving towards the pack nearly by the road, and the scent gets stronger. I can now say exactly that itโ€™s the scent of strawberries and chocolate, the two things I enjoy to ear more than anything. I can see three people in the car, and I freeze when I realize the scent got stronger because a window had gotten rolled down slightly, and the most beautiful girl I have ever seen is looking out. โ€˜What? Titan, get us out of here.โ€™ I say to Titan, and he reluctantly speeds up and runs ahead of the car. โ€˜That girl, she is our mate.โ€™ I hear Titan tell me, and I feel bad. โ€˜She canโ€™t be. She is not 18. And I will not be a loser and come claiming her like their old Alpha.โ€™ I tell him. โ€˜I am telling you she is our mate. I could even feel her wolf. And sometimes we can sense our mate even if the other is not of age.โ€™ He argues. Just what I need, and not what this girl needs. But if Titan is right, this girl is my second chance. โ€˜We canโ€™t tell her, Titan. We canโ€™t scare her like that. She is turning eighteen in a month or so. We will have to wait, you hear me.โ€™ There was no way I was going to scare her by claiming her now. โ€˜Titan, I mean it.โ€™ I say when he doesnโ€™t answer. โ€˜Okay. But we need to keep her safe.' He reluctantly agrees with me. โ€˜Of course, and we will.โ€™ I mind linking Luca again, asking him to come to meet him and welcome them. Longer up the road, I know that the father, who is a warrior, must have sensed us because he stopped the car and then he just waited. I already like that person. What he is doing is a clear signal of respect and shows us they do not want any trouble. We step out on the road together with two warriors, and a person steps out of the car. I try to keep my attention on the person, but it is hard when I can smell her being so close. I watch Luca go and greet him before they both come back to me. โ€œAlpha, thank you for letting us come here.โ€ The person says as he bows his head. I could feel that here before. I am a very strong and proud wolf. โ€œMr. Moore, Welcome to our pack. I am happy I can help.โ€ I tell him. โ€œIt means more than I can explain. And please call me Klaus.โ€ He says. โ€œVery well, is it your children in the car?โ€ I ask. โ€œYes, Alpha, it is my son Matt and my daughter Olivia.โ€ I have to stop myself from not starting to smile when I hear her name. โ€œWe have a house ready, but before going there, I would like you all to come to my office so that we can make you all pack members. It is safer to get it over with so no one mistake you for being a rouge.โ€ I tell him, without saying it is the first step to make sure Olivia is safe. โ€œYes, Alpha, as you wish.โ€ He says and bows his head again. โ€œLuca will show you there. I will run ahead and wait.โ€ I tell them, and with that, I go back to the forest and shifts to run home. - OLIVIA We drove behind the Beta in his wolf form, and before we knew it, we stopped in front of a huge house that could only be the packhouse. The Beta went to some trees and bushes next to the house and came back dressed in a pair of sweatpants, motioning for us to get out of the car. We all got out, and I noticed the scent I had smelled got stronger. If it always smells like this here, I wonโ€™t mind being here because it smells amazing. โ€œHello, welcome to our pack. My name is Luca, and I am the Beta here.โ€ The Beta tells Matt and me as he already had talked with dad. โ€œHello, Beta.โ€ We both greet him respectfully. โ€œJust call me Luca.โ€ We both nodded. โ€œIt is nice to meet you,โ€ I said, and he smiled. โ€œAs you probably can figure out, this is the packhouse. The packhouse has three floors. The ground floor and first floor are open to any pack member, and the top floor is only accessible when permitted by the Alpha. The ground floor has a kitchen, dining room, ballroom, Alphaโ€™s office, and several rooms for various activities for the packs' kids and young ones. The next floor is bedrooms, all with their bathrooms, pack members especially the teens like to come to stay here. And it is also where quests visiting for official reasons stay.โ€ Beta Luca tells us as we enter the house. When we enter, we can hear how busy the house is. And as we looked around, I was drawn to a room where the sound of someone singing caught my attention. Looking into the room, I see a bunch of teens my age having fun with the different games and karaoke machine that is in there. I feel Matt, my dad, and the Beta come up behind me. โ€œThis looks great,โ€ Matt says. โ€œYes, and it keeps them from going into the human town too much. We also have a hangout with a cafรฉ. Gyms and so on.โ€ โ€œUm.โ€ A sound came from behind us, and without turning around, it was like my entire body knew that the Alpha was standing right behind us. โ€œAlpha, I was giving a quick tour. We were on our way to your office.โ€ Beta Luca said, smiling. Turning around, my eyes fell on the most handsome person I had ever seen. He has dark brown hair and is muscular with an eight-pack, which I can see because he is still not wearing a shirt. But it is his hypnotizing forest green eyes that I canโ€™t move my eyes away from. I realized I was staring at an Alpha right in his eyes and gasped as I hurried to bow my head. โ€œAlpha, I am sorry,โ€ I whispered. A burst of deep laughter reached my ears, making me shiver deliciously. โ€œYou do not have to apologize. I am not so formal. Now, let us all go into my office.โ€ He says and smiles. LEARN_MORE https://cnwsx.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18213&ut Galaxy in the Story https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/ 2,500 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 cnwsx.com VIDEO https://cnwsx.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18213&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/t39.35426-6/480504659_666656332693438_1589395022467020525_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CyOf7VthGWkQ7kNvgEK1TtP&_nc_oc=AdjmQoys0ZBLiu_ZC_wEJBX9JVdH2wPnT3dO4GA2Lb-63TuhhgAbRUvwixFDlwL9YtqtwAIu-wN9ctN7YTgkPwAA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6PcvQ0Ndy8YhR3-cey3L6w&oh=00_AYCp_jYI1U8Y_Kn2H7nV887GYJC2Yejuy-0G8gllB_PRnQ&oe=67CC1DC0 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Galaxy in the Story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ใ“ใ“ใ‚’ใ‚ฏใƒชใƒƒใ‚ฏใ—ใฆ็„กๆ–™ใงใŠ่ชญใฟใใ ใ•ใ„๏ผ ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅ„ชๅญใŒๆœซๆœŸ็™Œใจ่จบๆ–ญใ•ใ‚ŒใŸใใฎๆ—ฅใ€ๅคซใฎไฝ่—คๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€ๅˆๆ‹ใฎ็›ธๆ‰‹ใฎๅญไพ›ใฎไธ–่ฉฑใ‚’ใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ... ็—…้™ขใงใ€ไธญๆ‘ๆ‚ ๆ–—ใŒๆธ‹ใ„้ก”ใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ•ใ‚“ใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“ใŒๆˆๅŠŸใ™ใ‚Œใฐใ€็”Ÿๅญ˜็އใฏ15%ใ‹ใ‚‰30%ใซใชใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ‹ใฐใ‚“ใฎใฒใ‚‚ใ‚’็ดฐใ„ๆŒ‡ใงใŽใ‚…ใฃใจๆกใ‚Šใ—ใ‚ใ€้’ใ–ใ‚ใŸๅฐใ•ใช้ก”ใซๆทฑใ„้™ฐใ‚Šใ‚’ๆตฎใ‹ในใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅ…ˆ่ผฉใ€ใ‚‚ใ—ๆ‰‹่ก“ใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ใชใ‘ใ‚Œใฐใ€ใฉใฎใใ‚‰ใ„็”Ÿใใ‚‰ใ‚Œใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€ŒๅŠๅนดใ‹ใ‚‰1ๅนดใใ‚‰ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅ”‡ใ‚’ใŽใ‚…ใฃใจๅ™›ใฟใ—ใ‚ใ€ใ‚„ใฃใจ่จ€่‘‰ใ‚’ๅใๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ…ˆ่ผฉใ€ใ“ใฎใ“ใจใฏ็ง˜ๅฏ†ใซใ—ใฆใกใ‚‡ใ†ใ ใ„ใ€‚ๅฎถๆ—ใ‚’ๅฟƒ้…ใ•ใ›ใŸใใชใ„ใฎใ€‚ใ€ ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅฎถใฏใ™ใงใซ็ ด็”ฃใ—ใฆใŠใ‚Šใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๅŒป็™‚่ฒปใ‚’ๅทฅ้ขใ™ใ‚‹ใ ใ‘ใงใ‚‚็ฒพไธ€ๆฏใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๆ‚ ๆ–—ใฏ่ซฆใ‚ใŸใ‚ˆใ†ใซ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅฃๅค–ใ—ใชใ„ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€็ตๅฉšใ—ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใจ่žใ„ใŸใ€‚ๆ—ฆ้‚ฃใ•ใ‚“โ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€ŒใŠ็ˆถใ•ใ‚“ใฎใ“ใจใฏใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใญใ€‚ใ‚‚ใ†่กŒใ‹ใชใ„ใจใ€‚ใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅคซใฎ่ฉฑ้กŒใ‚’้ฟใ‘ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใซใ€ๆ—ฉใ€…ใซใใฎๅ ดใ‚’็ซ‹ใกๅŽปใฃใŸใ€‚ ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๆฒป็™‚ใŒๅง‹ใพใฃใฆใ‹ใ‚‰ใฎ2ๅนด้–“ใ€ๅคซใงใ‚ใ‚‹ไฝ่—คๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€ๅบฆใ‚‚ๅงฟใ‚’่ฆ‹ใ›ใŸใ“ใจใŒใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅฝผๅฅณใŒๅ€’ใ‚Œใฆ้€š่กŒไบบใซ็—…้™ขใธ้‹ใฐใ‚ŒใŸๆ™‚ใงใ•ใˆใ‚‚ใ ใ€‚ ใ‹ใคใฆใฏๅฝผใ‚‚ๅ„ชๅญใ‚’ๅคงๅˆ‡ใซใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ ใŒใ€ๅˆๆ‹ใฎ็›ธๆ‰‹ใงใ‚ใ‚‹ๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใŒๅฆŠๅจ ใ—ใŸ็Šถๆ…‹ใงๅธฐๅ›ฝใ—ใฆใ‹ใ‚‰ใ€ใ™ในใฆใŒๅค‰ใ‚ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใ‚‚ใ‹ใคใฆๅฆŠๅจ ใ—ใฆใ„ใŸใ“ใจใŒใ‚ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ‚ใ‚‹ๆ—ฅใ€ๆน–ใงๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใจใจใ‚‚ใซ่ฝๆฐดใ—ใŸๆ™‚ใ€ๅฟ…ๆญปใซใ‚‚ใŒใใชใŒใ‚‰ใ€ๅฝผใŒ้‡Œ็พŽใซๅ‘ใ‹ใฃใฆๆณณใ„ใงใ„ใๅงฟใ‚’่ฆ‹ใŸใ€‚ ๅพŒใ€้‡Œ็พŽใฏ็„กไบ‹ใซๅญใฉใ‚‚ใ‚’็”ฃใ‚“ใ ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆฏ่ฆชใซใชใ‚‹ๆฉŸไผšใ‚’ๅฅชใ‚ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ 7ๆ—ฅๅพŒใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏ้›ขๅฉšใ‚’ๆฑ‚ใ‚ใŸใŒใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏๆ‹’ๅฆใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ ใŒใ€็—…ๆฐ—ใฎใ“ใจใ‚’็ŸฅใฃใŸไปŠใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏ้œ‡ใˆใ‚‹ๆ‰‹ใงๅฝผใฎ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใ€‚ 3ๅ›ž็›ฎใฎใ‚ณใƒผใƒซใงใคใชใŒใ‚‹ใจใ€ๅฝผใฎๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšไปฅๅค–ใฎ็”จไปถใชใ‚‰ใ€ใŠๅ‰ใซไผšใ†ๆฐ—ใฏใชใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆถ™ใ‚’ใ“ใ‚‰ใˆใ€็™Œใฎ่ฉฑใ‚’ๅˆ‡ใ‚Šๅ‡บใ™ใ“ใจใŒใงใใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ™ใ‚‹ใจ้›ป่ฉฑใฎๅ‘ใ“ใ†ใ‹ใ‚‰้‡Œ็พŽใฎๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅณปไป‹ๅ›ใ€ใใ‚ใใ‚่ตคใกใ‚ƒใ‚“ใฎๅฎšๆœŸๆคœๆŸปใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ ใใฎ็žฌ้–“ใ€ใ“ใ‚‰ใˆใฆใ„ใŸๆถ™ใŒไธ€ๆฐ—ใซๆบขใ‚Œๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ™ในใฆใ‚’็ต‚ใ‚ใ‚‰ใ›ใ‚‹ๆ™‚ใŒๆฅใŸใฎใ ใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ“้œ‡ใˆใ‚‹ๅฃฐใงใ€็ตžใ‚Šๅ‡บใ™ใ‚ˆใ†ใซใฝใคใ‚Šใจๅ‘Ÿใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅณปไป‹โ€ฆโ€ฆใ‚‚ใ†ใ€้›ขๅฉšใ—ใ‚ˆใ†ใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€็žฌใ€้ฉšใ„ใŸใ‚ˆใ†ใ ใฃใŸใŒใ€ๅ†ท็ฌ‘ใ—ใฆ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ไปŠๅบฆใฏใฉใ‚“ใชๆ‰‹ใ‚’ไฝฟใ†ใคใ‚‚ใ‚Šใ ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œๅฎถใงๅพ…ใฃใฆใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‰ใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€้›ป่ฉฑใŒ็ช็„ถๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸๅพŒใ€ๅ‘†็„ถใจใ‚นใƒžใƒ›ใ‚’่ฆ‹ใคใ‚ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ไธ€ๅนด้–“ๆ‹’ๅฆใ—็ถšใ‘ใฆใใŸๅ„ชๅญใŒใ€ใชใœไปŠๆ€ฅใซๅŒๆ„ใ—ใŸใฎใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸ ๅฝผๅฅณใซไผšใ„ใซ่กŒใใ“ใจใ‚’ๆฑบใ‚ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅณปไป‹ใ€ใฉใ“ใซ่กŒใใฎใ‚ˆ๏ผŸใ€้‡Œ็พŽใŒๅญใฉใ‚‚ใ‚’ๆŠฑใˆใชใŒใ‚‰่ฟฝใ„ใ‹ใ‘ใฆใใŸใ€‚ ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ๅฝผใฏไฝ•ใ‚‚่จ€ใ‚ใš็ซ‹ใกๅŽปใฃใŸใ€‚ใใฎ็žฌ้–“ใ€้‡Œ็พŽใฎๅ„ชใ—ใ„่กจๆƒ…ใฏใฟใ‚‹ใฟใ‚‹ใ†ใกใซๆใ‚ใ—ใ„ใปใฉๆš—ใใชใฃใŸใ€‚ ใ‚ใฎๅฅณโ€ฆโ€ฆใพใŸไฝ•ใ‹ไป•ๆŽ›ใ‘ใฆใใŸใ‚ใญ๏ผ ็Ž„้–ขใฎใƒ‰ใ‚ขใŒ้–‹ใ„ใŸใจใใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏใƒ†ใƒผใƒ–ใƒซใฎใใฐใซ็ซ‹ใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚นใƒผใƒ„ใ‚’็€ใŸ่ƒŒใŒ้ซ˜ใ„็”ทๆ€งใ‚’่ฆ‹ใŸใ€‚ๆ•ดใฃใŸ้ก”็ซ‹ใกใฏๆฐทใฎใ‚ˆใ†ใซๅ†ทใŸใใ€ใใฎๆš—ใ„็žณใซใฏๅ„ชๅญใธใฎ่ปฝ่”‘ใŒๆตฎใ‹ใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใฉใ“ใซ่กŒใฃใฆใŸใ‚“ใ ๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒๅ†ทใŸใๅฐ‹ใญใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใใ‚“ใชใ“ใจใฏใ„ใคใ‹ใ‚‰ๆฐ—ใซใ™ใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšๅฑŠใซใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณใ—ใฆใ‚‚ใ‚‰ใ†ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ใใฎ่จ€่‘‰ใฏ้‹ญใ„้‡ใฎใ‚ˆใ†ใซๅฝผๅฅณใฎๅฟƒใ‚’ๅˆบใ—ใŸใ€‚ๆฟกใ‚ŒใŸไฝ“ใ‚’ๅผ•ใใšใ‚ŠใชใŒใ‚‰ใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใฏใ‚ซใƒใƒณใ‹ใ‚‰ๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’้™ใ‹ใซๅ–ใ‚Šๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œๅฟƒ้…ใ™ใ‚‹ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใชใ„ใ€‚ใ‚‚ใ†ใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณๆธˆใฟใ ใ€‚ใ€ ๅฝผๅฅณใŒๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ใƒ†ใƒผใƒ–ใƒซใฎไธŠใซ็ฝฎใ„ใŸใจใใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏใ€Œ้›ขๅฉšใ€ใจใ„ใ†ไบŒๆ–‡ๅญ—ใŒใ“ใ‚Œใปใฉใพใงใซไธๆ„‰ๅฟซใซๆ€ใˆใŸใ“ใจใฏใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅ„ชๅญใŒๅ”ฏไธ€่ฆๆฑ‚ใ—ใŸใฎใฏใ€2ๅ„„ๅ††ใฎๆ…ฐ่ฌๆ–™ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใฉใ†ใ—ใฆๆ€ฅใซๅŒๆ„ใ—ใŸใฎใ‹ใจๆ€ใฃใŸใ‚‰ใ€็ตๅฑ€้‡‘ใฎใŸใ‚ใ‹ใ€‚ใ€ๅฝผใฎ้ก”ใŒๅ˜ฒ็ฌ‘ใ‚’ๆตฎใ‹ในใŸใ€‚ ใ‹ใคใฆใชใ‚‰ใ€่‡ชๅˆ†ใ‚’ๅผ่ญทใ™ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚Œใชใ„ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€ไปŠๅฝผๅฅณใฏใŸใ ้™ใ‹ใซ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆœฌๆฅใชใ‚‰ใ€ไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใฎ่ณ‡็”ฃใฎๅŠๅˆ†ใ‚’่ซ‹ๆฑ‚ใ™ใ‚‹ๆจฉๅˆฉใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‚ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€็งใฏ2ๅ„„ๅ††ใ—ใ‹่ฆๆฑ‚ใ—ใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ“ใ‚Œใงใ‚‚ใ€ใพใ ๆƒ…ใ‘ใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใฆใ‚‹ใคใ‚‚ใ‚Šใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏไธ€ๆญฉๅ‰ใซ้€ฒใฟใ€้•ทใ„ๅฝฑใŒๅ„ชๅญใ‚’่ฆ†ใฃใŸใ€‚ๅฝผใฏๅฝผๅฅณใฎ้กŽใ‚’็ดฐ้•ทใ„ๆŒ‡ใงๆŽดใฟใ€ๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€ŒไปŠใ€ไฝ•ใฆๅ‘ผใ‚“ใ ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใ‚‚ใ—ใ“ใฎๅ‘ผใณๆ–นใŒๅซŒใชใ‚‰ใ€ๅ…ƒๅคซใจๅ‘ผใณ็›ดใ—ใฆใ‚‚ใ„ใ„ใ‚ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ•ใ‚ใ€ๆ›ธ้กžใซใ‚ตใ‚คใƒณใ—ใฆๅธฐใฃใฆใ‚‚ใ‚‰ใฃใฆใ„ใ„๏ผŸใ€ ๅฝผใฏไธๆ„‰ๅฟซใใ†ใช้ก”ใ‚’ใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œใ“ใ“ใฏไฟบใฎๅฎถใ ใ€‚ๅ‡บใฆ่กŒใ‘ใจ่จ€ใ†ๆจฉๅˆฉใฏใŠๅ‰ใซใฏใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏ็šฎ่‚‰ใ’ใซๅพฎ็ฌ‘ใฟใ€่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ็ขบใ‹ใซใ€ใใฎๆจฉๅˆฉใฏใชใ„ใ‚ใ€‚ใงใ‚‚ใ€ๅฎ‰ๅฟƒใ—ใฆใ€ไฝ่—คใ•ใ‚“ใ€‚้›ขๅฉš่จผๆ˜Žๆ›ธใ‚’ๅ—ใ‘ๅ–ใฃใŸใ‚‰ใ€ใ™ใใซๅ‡บใฆ่กŒใใ€‚ใ€ ใพใŸใ€ๅฝผใฎๆ‰‹ใ‚’ๆŒฏใ‚Šๆ‰•ใ„ใ€ๅ†ทใŸใ„็›ฎใงๅฝผใ‚’่ฆ‹ใคใ‚ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ˜Žๆ—ฅใฎๆœ9ๆ™‚ใ€ๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใงๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ๆŒใฃใฆใใฆใใ ใ•ใ„ใ€‚ใ€ ็ฟŒๆœใ€ๆ—ฅใฎๅ‡บๅ‰ใซใฏๅ„ชๅญใฏๅ‡บ็™บใ—ใ‚ˆใ†ใจใ—ใŸๆ™‚ใ€็—…้™ขใ‹ใ‚‰้›ป่ฉฑใŒใ‹ใ‹ใฃใฆใใŸใ€‚ใ€Œ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใŠ็ˆถใ•ใ‚“ใŒๅฟƒ่‡“็™บไฝœใ‚’่ตทใ“ใ—ใพใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใˆใฃ๏ผŸใ™ใๅ‘ใ‹ใ„ใพใ™๏ผใ€ ็—…้™ขใซๅˆฐ็€ใ™ใ‚‹ใจใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“ใฏใพใ ็ถšใ„ใฆใ„ใŸใ€‚ ไปŠใ€ๅ”ฏไธ€ใฎๅธŒๆœ›ใฏ็ˆถใŒๅฅๅบทใง็”Ÿใ็ถšใ‘ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ ใ‘ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ็œ‹่ญทๅธซใŒๆ‰‹่ก“่ฒป็”จใฎ่ซ‹ๆฑ‚ๆ›ธใ‚’ๆ‰‹ๆธกใ—ใฆใใŸใ€‚็ท้กใฏ300ไธ‡ๅ††ไปฅไธŠใ€‚ ใงใ‚‚ใ€ไปฅๅ‰ๆ”ฏๆ‰•ใฃใŸๅ…ฅ้™ข่ฒปใงๆฎ‹้‡‘ใฏใŸใฃใŸใฎ10ไธ‡ๅ††ใ€‚ใฉใ†ใ—ใฆใ‚‚่ถณใ‚Šใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ ไป•ๆ–นใชใใ€ๅณปไป‹ใซ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใ€‚ ๅ†ทใŸใ„ๅฃฐใŒ่žใ“ใˆใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€Œใฉใ“ใ ๏ผŸใ‚‚ใ†30ๅˆ†ๅพ…ใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œๆ€ฅใชใ“ใจใŒใ‚ใฃใฆโ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ใ“ใ‚ŒใงใŠใ‚‚ใ—ใ‚ใ„๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ้ผปใง็ฌ‘ใ†ใ€‚ใ€Œใฉใ†ใ›ใพใŸๅ˜˜ใ‚’ใคใ„ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚“ใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸใ€ ใใ‚“ใช๏ผ ใ€Œๅ˜˜ใ˜ใ‚ƒใชใ„๏ผ็ˆถใŒๅฟƒ่‡“็™บไฝœใ‚’่ตทใ“ใ—ใฆๆ‰‹่ก“ใŒๅฟ…่ฆใชใฎ๏ผโ€•โ€•ใ€ ใ€Œใใ‚Œใงใ€ๆญปใ‚“ใ ใฎใ‹๏ผŸใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ้ฎใฃใŸใ€‚ ใใฎ่จ€่‘‰ใซใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏ่€ณใ‚’็–‘ใฃใŸใ€‚ใใ‚“ใช่จ€ใ„ๆ–นใ™ใ‚‹ไบบใŒใ„ใ‚‹ใฎใ‹๏ผŸ ใ€Œใ„ใ„ใˆ๏ผๅณปไป‹ใ€ๆ‰‹่ก“่ฒปใŒ300ไธ‡ๅ††ไปฅไธŠใ‹ใ‹ใ‚‹ใฎใ€‚ใ ใ‹ใ‚‰ๆ…ฐ่ฌๆ–™ใ‚’ๅ…ˆใซๆŒฏใ‚Š่พผใ‚“ใงใใ‚Œใชใ„๏ผŸๅฟ…ใš้›ขๅฉšใ™ใ‚‹ใ‹ใ‚‰๏ผใ€ ใ€Œๅ„ชๅญใ€ไฟบใŒ่ชฐใ‚ˆใ‚Šใ‚‚ๅ›ใฎ็ˆถ่ฆชใฎๆญปใ‚’ๆœ›ใ‚“ใงใ„ใ‚‹ใ“ใจใ‚’็†่งฃใ—ใฆใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใชใ€‚้‡‘ใ‚’ๆธกใ™ใฎใฏใ„ใ„ใ ใ‚ใ†ใ€ใงใ‚‚ๆ‰‹็ถšใใŒ็ต‚ใ‚ใฃใŸๅพŒใซใ ใ€‚ใ€ ใใ‚Œใ ใ‘่จ€ใ†ใจใ€้›ป่ฉฑใฏๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฎ้ก”ใซใฏๅ›ฐๆƒ‘ใŒๆตฎใ‹ใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ‹ใคใฆๅฝผใฏ็ˆถใซๅฏพใ—ใฆๆ•ฌๆ„ใ‚’ๆ‰•ใฃใฆใ„ใŸใฏใšใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ไปŠใฎๅฝผใฎๅฃฐใซใฏๆœฌๆฐ—ใฎๆ†Žใ—ใฟใŒๆปฒใ‚“ใงใ„ใŸใ€‚ ใชใœใ ๏ผŸ 2ๅนดๅ‰ใฎ้ซ˜ๆฉ‹ๅฎถใฎ็ ด็”ฃใจ็ตใณใคใ‘ใฆ่€ƒใˆใ‚‹ใจใ€ๅถ็„ถใฎๅ‡บๆฅไบ‹ใจใฏๆ€ใˆใชใใชใฃใฆใใŸใ€‚ ใ‚‚ใ†ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใฆใ€ๅณปไป‹ใŒ่ฃใงไฝ•ใ‹ใ‚’ไป•ๆŽ›ใ‘ใŸใฎใ ใ€‚ใ—ใ‹ใ—ใ€ๅฎŸๅฎถใฏไธ€ไฝ“ใฉใ†ใ‚„ใฃใฆๅฝผใ‚’ๆ€’ใ‚‰ใ›ใฆใ—ใพใฃใŸใฎใ ใ‚ใ†๏ผŸ ไปŠใ€่€ƒใˆ่พผใ‚€ไฝ™่ฃ•ใ‚‚ใชใใ€็ˆถใฎๆฒป็™‚่ฒปใ‚’ไฝ•ใจใ‹ใ™ใ‚‹ใฎใŒๆœ€ๅ„ชๅ…ˆใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๆ‰‹่ก“ๅฎคใฎๆ‰‰ใŒ้–‹ใ„ใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๅ…ˆ็”Ÿ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ้ซ™ๆฉ‹ใ•ใ‚“ใ€ใŠ็ˆถๆง˜ใฏใชใ‚“ใจใ‹ๆŒใกใ“ใŸใˆใพใ—ใŸใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏใ‚ˆใ†ใ‚„ใ่ƒธใ‚’ๆ’ซใงไธ‹ใ‚ใ—ใŸใ€‚ ไป‹่ญทไบบใซ็ˆถใ‚’ไปปใ›ใ€ๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใซๆ€ฅใ„ใ ใŒใ€ๅณปไป‹ใฏใฉใ“ใซใ‚‚ใชใ‹ใฃใŸใ€‚ ็„ฆใฆ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใ‚‹ใ€‚ใ€Œๅธ‚ๅฝนๆ‰€ใซ็€ใ„ใŸใ‚ใ€‚ใฉใ“ใซใ„ใ‚‹ใฎ๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œไบ‹ๅ‹™ๅฎคใ ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€ŒไปŠใ™ใ้›ขๅฉšๆ‰‹็ถšใใ‚’ๆธˆใพใ›ใซๆฅใฆใใ‚Œใชใ„๏ผŸใ€ ๅณปไป‹ใฏ่–„ใ็ฌ‘ใฃใฆ่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ•ฐๅ„„ๅ††ใฎๅฅ‘็ด„ใจใŠๅ‰ใ€ใฉใฃใกใŒๅคงไบ‹ใ ใจๆ€ใ†๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œ็ต‚ใ‚ใ‚‹ใพใงๅพ…ใคใ‹ใ‚‰โ€ฆโ€ฆๅณปไป‹ใ€ใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใ€ไปŠ็ˆถใฏใŠ้‡‘ใŒๅฟ…่ฆใชใฎใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใ‚‚ใ—ๆญปใ‚“ใ ใ‚‰ใ€่‘ฌๅผไปฃใ‚’ๅ‡บใ—ใฆใ‚„ใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ€‚ใ€ใใ‚Œใ ใ‘่จ€ใ†ใจใ€ๅฝผใฏ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ๅˆ‡ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅ†ใณ้›ป่ฉฑใ‚’ใ‹ใ‘ใŸใŒใ€ใ™ใงใซ้›ปๆบใŒๅˆ‡ใ‚‰ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆฏใŒ่ฉฐใพใ‚‹ใ‚ˆใ†ใชๆ„Ÿ่ฆšใซ่ฅฒใ‚ใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ๅฝผๅฅณใฏใ‚ใฃใจใ„ใ†้–“ใซๅ…จใฆใ‚’ๅคฑใฃใฆใ—ใพใฃใŸใ€‚ ไปŠใ€ๅ„ชๅญใŒๆŒใฃใฆใ„ใ‚‹ๅ”ฏไธ€ใฎไพกๅ€คใ‚ใ‚‹ใ‚‚ใฎใฏใ€็ตๅฉšๆŒ‡่ผชใ ใ‘ใ ใฃใŸใ€‚ ๅฝผๅฅณใฏๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚’ๅค–ใ—ใ€้ซ˜็ดšๅฎ้ฃพๅบ—ใซ่ถณใ‚’่ธใฟๅ…ฅใ‚ŒใŸใ€‚ ใ€ŒใŠๅฎขๆง˜ใ€่ณผๅ…ฅๆ™‚ใฎ้ ˜ๅŽๆ›ธใจ่จผๆ˜Žๆ›ธใฏใŠๆŒใกใงใ™ใ‹๏ผŸใ€ ใ€Œใฏใ„ใ€‚ใ€ๅ„ชๅญใฏๆ€ฅใ„ใงๆ›ธ้กžใ‚’ๅทฎใ—ๅ‡บใ—ใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใ‚ใ‚ŠใŒใจใ†ใ”ใ–ใ„ใพใ™ใ€‚ๆŒ‡่ผชใฏๆคœๆŸปใซๅ‡บใ™ๅฟ…่ฆใŒใ‚ใ‚‹ใฎใงใ€ๆ˜Žๆ—ฅใพใŸใ”้€ฃ็ตกใ•ใ›ใฆใ„ใŸใ ใ‘ใพใ™ใ‹ใ€‚ใ€ ๅ„ชๅญใฏๅˆ‡่ฟซใ—ใŸๅฃฐใง่จ€ใฃใŸใ€‚ใ€Œๆ€ฅใ„ใงใ„ใ‚‹ใ‚“ใงใ™ใ€‚ไปŠๆ—ฅไธญใซใŠ้ก˜ใ„ใ—ใพใ™ใ€‚ใ€ ใ€Œใฏใ„ใ€‚ใ€ๅบ—ๅ“กใŒๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚’ๆŒใกๅŽปใ‚ใ†ใจใ—ใŸใใฎๆ™‚ใ€ใ‚ใ‚‹็™ฝใใฆ็นŠ็ดฐใชๆ‰‹ใŒๆŒ‡่ผชใ‚ฑใƒผใ‚นใ‚’ๆŠผใ•ใˆใŸใ€‚ ใ€Œใ“ใฎๆŒ‡่ผชใ€ใจใฆใ‚‚็ด ๆ•ตใญใ€‚็งใŒ่ฒทใ†ใ‚ใ€‚ใ€ ้ก”ใ‚’ไธŠใ’ใŸๅ„ชๅญใฎ็›ฎใซ้ฃ›ใณ่พผใ‚“ใงใใŸใฎใฏใ€ๅฝผๅฅณใŒใ“ใฎไธ–ใงๆœ€ใ‚‚ๆ†Žใ‚“ใงใ„ใ‚‹ไบบ็‰ฉโ€•โ€•ๆพๆœฌ้‡Œ็พŽใ ใฃใŸ LEARN_MORE https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut ๅฅณใฎๅญใŒ่ชญใฟใŸใ„ๅฐ่ชฌใ‚’ๅคง็‰น้›† https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/ 147 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 heplk.com IMAGE https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&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/t39.35426-6/476458437_932917845683561_1681156486986924479_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aqhwfvs58qgQ7kNvgHoEekI&_nc_oc=AdjNaER-s8qCc5-TOJud7zP6mN2DqG6VeGaLF1VGO1KYlHrcsqfdYC93FGmzOvKa1OJ8yksMr-MaMX9_MpMxLndf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIJPo18Wsd3-Xx70P7XyDnW&oh=00_AYC5jAdLEfyXLGQ1lMg1ZjlmZqkIgLdljyS35SBGcwAIlA&oe=67CC148A PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ๅฅณใฎๅญใŒ่ชญใฟใŸใ„ๅฐ่ชฌใ‚’ๅคง็‰น้›† 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 19:09 active 2791 0 Overcome Procrastination Naturally Overcoming procrastination doesnโ€™t have to be hard! Created by a team of psychologists and behavioral change experts, Brainway is designed to: 1๏ธโƒฃ Identify your unique โ€œProcrastination Typeโ€ 2๏ธโƒฃ Reveal the unique โ€œTrigger Pointโ€ that makes you procrastinate 3๏ธโƒฃ Provide personalized, simple, and effective strategies to help you stop putting things off ๐Ÿ† And let you join thousands of people enjoying 100% stress-free productivity with Brainway! ๐Ÿ”ฅ Take a short quiz and see how Brainway can help you break free from procrastination & embrace your natural productivity today!๐Ÿ‘‡ LEARN_MORE https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US Brainway App https://www.facebook.com/61551442591062/ 23,451 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 brainway.app VIDEO https://brainway.app/start?qz=pro1&locale=EN_US 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465701561_1260669235131672_4796270762298070218_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UrIM6V3mfSoQ7kNvgEu-Gzh&_nc_oc=AdgOIWU28rjcP0GvnjARBgdW-f5AMgW07DFgTSoJ6dyGvNbUnCAbtz--TuFJejnZD8J4iiB0IiuE9wU4El7jHL1L&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AGua_hY8R1VIJMRW-AALcMY&oh=00_AYAdgQWCk7UihRc_DDT6Zyf0x3UYihB_BDbFYvDwhV1HwA&oe=67CC155B PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Brainway App 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:52 active 2790 0 VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE http://instagram.com/kelly_cooke kelly_cooke https://www.instagram.com/_u/kelly_cooke 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_cooke 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/468329586_1008699907689047_6324144052857597978_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=OTCUF98N2dAQ7kNvgEUz74Q&_nc_oc=AdhXfbCqFnk_Ux8lH3ksgDFIRAB4s8AcL19bDJTmt2yebCFWynYxIm7p8G7LHVo3uIBgFOXPHWwbAf5av7lNObrz&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYBpI_GR9CWJf_6en6_wAd1cs88LlF-Xso5cMFNyC0tVeg&oe=67CC00CD IG_ADS_IDENTITY 1 0 0 kelly_cooke 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:28 active 2789 0 ๐ŸŒธโœจ Self-Care Welcome Spring Giveaway! โœจ๐ŸŒธ Spring is here, and what better way to celebrate than with a self-care refresh? ๐Ÿ’• Iโ€™m giving one lucky winner the ultimate spring-ready bundle featuring: ๐ŸŒŸ @boggbags โ€“ the perfect go-everywhere tote ๐ŸŒŸ @ironhousecoffeesupply โ€“ your caffeine fix, covered โ˜• ๐ŸŒŸ Skincare goodies from Olay, Patchology, Touchland & more! How to Enter: 1๏ธโƒฃ Follow @hellojanise 2๏ธโƒฃ Like this post ๐Ÿ’– 3๏ธโƒฃ Tag 2 friends who love self-care (each tag = 1 entry) 4๏ธโƒฃ BONUS: Leave a genuine comment > 5 words (no emojis ) in any three of my previous reels for 5 extra entries! ๐Ÿ“… Giveaway ends: March 16, 2025 at 11:59pm EST ๐Ÿ“ข Winner announced: March 17th on my story by 8:00pm EST Letโ€™s step into spring refreshed and glowing! โœจ๐ŸŒฟ Enter now! #SpringGiveaway #SelfCareSeason #GlowUp #BoggBag #CleanBeautyLover #GiveawayTime VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE http://instagram.com/hellojanise Jaโ€™nise Johnson https://www.facebook.com/hellojanise/ 279 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Visit Instagram profile 0 instagram.com VIDEO http://instagram.com/hellojanise 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482250234_1185417673200705_2927857364187973035_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RHOCk2CS7oQQ7kNvgG4FYBz&_nc_oc=AdjernPLxYs_F89E9KIw5uoylmqXUw5GFjGQMA4oH_1wvaf5dGcfEBdZF8nmmekLxy0QRJtRmMibdIKgNb4K7quA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AdDQdQwHmkjmAxW-dJdflKl&oh=00_AYDi1pXhQOubfCcTE-g_DycV0w0LefptgvyaLa0L58CMIg&oe=67CC0F02 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Jaโ€™nise Johnson 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:29 active 2789 0 Disneyland, Universal or SeaWorld - California or Orlando. Enter to Win. Enter to Win Before the End of the Month for Your Chance to Win Tickets to Disney ๐ŸŽข SIGN_UP https://giveaway.eventnerdz.com/disney-giveaway-8 Event Nerdz Rewards https://www.facebook.com/eventnerdz/ 27,815 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Sign up 0 EventNerdz.com/Giveaway/Disney IMAGE If you earn 1000 entries, you will automatically receive one pass to the Disney park of your choice. https://giveaway.eventnerdz.com/disney-giveaway-8 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480938547_615357944606518_805024315835870145_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HYFg7QX7sXsQ7kNvgHUqIsi&_nc_oc=AdhcHsoXgWUN4qlb9IdvNaA315hEpHeW1FGD37CR1Sdo4-Rvnqo5pudxzICNM25eCzjqFLzYayUJ_9QqyCcLdFyk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AO-Df7fZdODCtQnxynqPNtL&oh=00_AYBOuOI7UBnCH2exY7dtJeaWezRohNX0J9dzyqV-xK_52A&oe=67CC2D9C PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Event Nerdz Rewards 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:28 active 2789 0 VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE http://instagram.com/cremaypomadastore cremaypomadastore https://www.instagram.com/_u/cremaypomadastore 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Visit Instagram Profile 0 instagram.com CAROUSEL http://instagram.com/cremaypomadastore 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/469513813_1095655801965792_5810805418709853591_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=-sVznIjw6-kQ7kNvgHkEKQu&_nc_oc=Adh5sZNEPvBUSNRBLFyE8FcLxnPnHTXCmaBjGhRo3TMb2maGitHEwScicvcnUUkkzfCFfkmjWciBkKB6DIvfUx5o&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYBH1ZmEkcQ_6FhzhQ1OUY6lDv4h5HjpzfOV3950anjfvw&oe=67CC3316 IG_ADS_IDENTITY 1 0 0 cremaypomadastore 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2025-03-03 18:57 active 2790 0 Steve Kellyโ€™s been through some serious stuff over the years, and Iโ€™m excited to share his amazing comeback story with all of you. His new album, Hereโ€™s the Thing, is out today!! Itโ€™s produced by Rob Mercurio of @galacticfunknola โ€“ and has been a decade in the making. I canโ€™t wait for you to hear me talk to Steve about his amazing story, so click on that link in the bio now to give it a listen!! LEARN_MORE https://lnk.to/YPhbxZ Roadcase Podcast https://www.facebook.com/100063488603587/ 164 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 lnk.to VIDEO https://lnk.to/YPhbxZ 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481021038_606599042359768_8939667502495942191_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ogyA-vGmpK4Q7kNvgGUIx7J&_nc_oc=AdjNv0FR7yOCLIGQZZdyNefiy9km4taZfzhgZNPY17X1Y1TaZC-ifHrXrRqpoOEn4quxQ9admq00gNY1NRME72MN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AX-Y-6-OYtYd6dcTeOggHY0&oh=00_AYATB4iJfJ0lx34yO0OBFpFIXtbngD_Dnme7EqeMQOmMmQ&oe=67CC2AF7 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Roadcase Podcast 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 18:48 active 2790 0 ะงะธั‚ะฐั‚ัŒ ัะปะตะดัƒัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ะณะปะฐะฒัƒ๐Ÿ‘‰ ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั† ะฒัะฟะพะผะฝะธะป ะพ ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะต, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะฐั ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ะถะดะฐะปะฐ ะตะณะพ ะดะพะผะฐ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะดั€ัƒะณ ะฟะพะดะฐะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะด. ะ“ะปัะดั ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดะฟะธัะฐะฝะฝั‹ะต ะดะพะบัƒะผะตะฝั‚ั‹ ะพ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะต, ะพะฝ ะฑั‹ะป ัƒะฒะตั€ะตะฝ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะถะฐะปะตะตั‚. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะฟะพัะปะต ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะธั‚ัั ะฟะพะฟัƒะปัั€ะฝะพะน. ะฃะฒะธะดะตะฒ ะตั‘, ะพะฝ ัƒะผะพะปัะป ะพ ะฟะพะฒั‚ะพั€ะฝะพะผ ะฑั€ะฐะบะต! ===== ยซะกะฟะฐัะตะฝั‹! ะžะฝะธ ัะฟะฐัะตะฝั‹!ยป ะ˜ะท ั‚ะปะตัŽั‰ะตะณะพ ะฟะตะบะปะฐ ะฟะพัะฒะธะปะธััŒ ะฟะพะถะฐั€ะฝั‹ะต, ะฒั‹ะฝะพัั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะกะฐะฒะตะปัŒะตะฒัƒ ะฒ ะฑะตะทะพะฟะฐัะฝะพะต ะผะตัั‚ะพ ัƒ ะพะฑะพั‡ะธะฝั‹ ะดะพั€ะพะณะธ. ะ•ั‘ ั‡ะตั€ั‚ั‹ ะปะธั†ะฐ, ะพะฑั‹ั‡ะฝะพ ัƒั‚ะพะฝั‡ั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะต ะธ ะฒั‹ั€ะฐะทะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะต, ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะฑั‹ะปะธ ะธะทะผะฐะทะฐะฝั‹ ัะฐะถะตะน; ะตั‘ ะธัะบั€ัั‰ะธะตัั ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะฟะพั‚ัƒัะบะฝะตะปะธ, ะฟั€ะตะฒั€ะฐั‚ะธะฒัˆะธััŒ ะฒ ะฟัƒัั‚ะพะน, ะฟะพั‚ะตั€ัะฝะฝั‹ะน ะฒะทะณะปัะด. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ัะพะทะฝะฐะฝะธะต ะฟั€ะพััะฝะธะปะพััŒ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะพั‰ัƒั‚ะธะปะฐ, ะบะฐะบ ะฒะพะปะฝะฐ ะฑะปะฐะณะพะดะฐั€ะฝะพัั‚ะธ ะทะฐั‚ะพะฟะธะปะฐ ะตั‘ ะพะฑั‹ั‡ะฝะพะต ัะฐะผะพะพะฑะปะฐะดะฐะฝะธะต. ะ•ั‘ ะณะพะปะพั, ั…ั€ะธะฟะปั‹ะน ะธ ัะปะฐะฑั‹ะน, ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝั‘ั ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะพะต ยซัะฟะฐัะธะฑะพยป ัะฟะฐัะธั‚ะตะปัะผ. ะ”ั€ะพะถะฐั‰ะธะผะธ ั€ัƒะบะฐะผะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะฐั‰ัƒะฟะฐะปะฐ ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝ, ะตั‘ ะฟะฐะปัŒั†ั‹ ะทะฐะดั€ะพะถะฐะปะธ ะตั‰ั‘ ัะธะปัŒะฝะตะต, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะฑั€ะฐะปะฐ ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผั‹ะน ะฝะพะผะตั€. ยซะะฑะพะฝะตะฝั‚, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะพะณะพ ะฒั‹ ะฟั‹ั‚ะฐะตั‚ะตััŒ ะฒั‹ะทะฒะฐั‚ัŒ, ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะฝะพ ะฝะตะดะพัั‚ัƒะฟะตะฝ. ะŸะพะถะฐะปัƒะนัั‚ะฐ, ะฟะตั€ะตะทะฒะพะฝะธั‚ะต ะฟะพะทะถะต...ยป ะŸะพัะปะต ะฝะตัะบะพะปัŒะบะธั… ะณัƒะดะบะพะฒ ั€ะฐะทะดะฐะปะพััŒ ะฐะฒั‚ะพะผะฐั‚ะธั‡ะตัะบะพะต ัะพะพะฑั‰ะตะฝะธะต, ะพั‚ ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะพะณะพ ะบ ะณะพั€ะปัƒ ะฟะพะดัั‚ัƒะฟะธะป ะบะพะผะพะบ, ะฐ ะฒะฝัƒั‚ั€ะธ ะทะฐะฑัƒั€ะปะธะปะธ ะฝะตะฒั‹ัะบะฐะทะฐะฝะฝั‹ะต ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะธะต ะธ ะณะพั€ะตั‡ัŒ. ะ‘ะฐั…! ะžะณะปัƒัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ะฒะทั€ั‹ะฒ ั€ะตะทะบะพ ะพะฑะพั€ะฒะฐะป ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝั‹ะน ะผะตั…ะฐะฝะธั‡ะตัะบะธะน ะณะพะปะพั ะฒ ั‚ั€ัƒะฑะบะต. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฒัะบะธะฝัƒะปะฐ ะณะพะปะพะฒัƒ, ะธ ะฝะฐ ะตั‘ ะปะธั†ะต ะพั‚ั€ะฐะทะธะปัั ัƒะถะฐั: ะบะฒะฐั€ั‚ะธั€ะฐ, ะธะท ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะพะน ะพะฝะฐ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒั‹ะฑั€ะฐะปะฐััŒ, ะฒัะฟั‹ั…ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะพะณะฝั‘ะผ. ะšัƒัะบะธ ะพะฑะปะพะผะบะพะฒ ะฒะทะผะตั‚ะฝัƒะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะฒะพะทะดัƒั… ะพั‚ ัะธะปั‹ ะฒะทั€ั‹ะฒะฐ, ั€ะฐะทะปะตั‚ะฐัััŒ ะฟะพ ะฝะตะฑัƒ. ะŸะฐะฝะธะบะฐ ะพั…ะฒะฐั‚ะธะปะฐ ั‚ะพะปะฟัƒ, ะธ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะฟะฐัั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะต ะปัŽะดะธ ะบั€ะธั‡ะฐะปะธ ะพั‚ ัƒะถะฐัะฐ. ะžะฝะธ ะฟั€ะธะถะฐะปะธััŒ ะดั€ัƒะณ ะบ ะดั€ัƒะณัƒ, ะธั‰ะฐ ัƒั‚ะตัˆะตะฝะธั ะฒ ะพะฑัŠัั‚ะธัั…, ะธั… ะบั€ะธะบะธ ะฟั€ะพะฝะทะฐะปะธ ั…ะฐะพั‚ะธั‡ะฝัƒัŽ ัั†ะตะฝัƒ. ะ’ ั€ะตะทะบะพะผ ะบะพะฝั‚ั€ะฐัั‚ะต ั ัั‚ะธะผ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะปะตะถะฐะปะฐ ะพะดะฝะฐ ะฝะฐ ะฝะพัะธะปะบะฐั…, ะธ ะตั‘ ะพะดะธะฝะพั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะพ ะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ ะตั‰ั‘ ะพัั‚ั€ะตะต ะฝะฐ ั„ะพะฝะต ะฒัะตะพะฑั‰ะตะณะพ ัะผัั‚ะตะฝะธั. ยซะšะพัั‚ั...ยป โ€“ ะฑะพั€ัััŒ ั ะฟะพะดัั‚ัƒะฟะฐัŽั‰ะธะผ ะบ ะฟะพะทะฒะพะฝะพั‡ะฝะธะบัƒ ัั‚ั€ะฐั…ะพะผ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะปะพั‚ะฝะพ ัะถะฐะปะฐ ะณัƒะฑั‹ ะธ ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ะฝะฐะฑั€ะฐะปะฐ ะฝะพะผะตั€ ะผัƒะถะฐ, ะฝะต ั‚ะตั€ัั ั€ะตัˆะธะผะพัั‚ะธ. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะฟะพัะปะต ะฝะตัะบะพะปัŒะบะธั… ะบะพั€ะพั‚ะบะธั… ะณัƒะดะบะพะฒ ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ ะพะฑะพั€ะฒะฐะปัั, ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะฒ ะตั‘ ะฒ ะณะฝะตั‚ัƒั‰ะตะน ั‚ะธัˆะธะฝะต. ะ’ ัั‚ะพั‚ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ ะฝะฐ ัะบั€ะฐะฝะต ะตั‘ ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝะฐ ะผะตะปัŒะบะฝัƒะปะพ ัƒะฒะตะดะพะผะปะตะฝะธะต ะธะท ะ˜ะฝัั‚ะฐะณั€ะฐะผะฐ. ะ›ะตะฝั‚ะฐ ะฝะพะฒะพัั‚ะตะน ะฟะตัั‚ั€ะธะปะฐ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะธะผะธ ัะฟะปะตั‚ะฝัะผะธ: #ะะฝะฝะฐะะธะบัƒะปะธะฝะฐ #ะ—ะฐะณะฐะดะพั‡ะฝั‹ะนะ‘ะพะนั„ั€ะตะฝะด. ะกะพะณะปะฐัะฝะพ ะฟะพัั‚ัƒ, ะฟั€ะพะดัŽัะตั€ ะธะทะฒะตัั‚ะฝะพะณะพ ัˆะพัƒ ะฟั€ะธะณะปะฐัะธะป ะทะฝะฐะผะตะฝะธั‚ัƒัŽ ะทะฒะตะทะดัƒ ะะฝะฝัƒ ะะธะบัƒะปะธะฝัƒ ะฝะฐ ัƒะถะธะฝ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะน ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ะพ ะฟะตั€ะตัั‚ะฐะป ะฑั‹ั‚ัŒ ะฟั€ะธัั‚ะฝั‹ะผ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะพั‚ะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฟะพะดะฝัั‚ัŒ ะฑะพะบะฐะป. ะญั‚ะพั‚ ะฐะบั‚ ะฝะตะฟะพะฒะธะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธั ะฟั€ะธะฒั‘ะป ะบ ะบะพะฝั„ะปะธะบั‚ัƒ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะน ะฟั€ะตั€ะฒะฐะป ะฒะปะฐัั‚ะฝั‹ะน ะฑะพะนั„ั€ะตะฝะด ะะฝะฝั‹. ะžะฝ ะฒะพั€ะฒะฐะปัั ะฒ ะพั‚ะดะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ะทะฐะป ั€ะตัั‚ะพั€ะฐะฝะฐ, ะฟั€ะตะฝะตะฑั€ะตะถะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะพั‚ะผะฐั…ะฝัƒะปัั ะพั‚ ะฟั€ะพะดัŽัะตั€ะฐ ะธ ัƒะฒั‘ะป ะะฝะฝัƒ. ะ’ ะฟะพัั‚ะต ัั€ะบะพ ะพะฟะธัั‹ะฒะฐะปะฐััŒ ัั†ะตะฝะฐ ั‚ะพะณะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะฒะปะธัั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐ ะทะฐั‰ะธั‰ะฐะตั‚ ัะฒะพัŽ ะฒะพะทะปัŽะฑะปะตะฝะฝัƒัŽ. ะ’ะฟั€ะพั‡ะตะผ, ะฒะตั€ะพัั‚ะฝะพ ะธะท-ะทะฐ ะตะณะพ ะธะทะฒะตัั‚ะฝะพัั‚ะธ, ะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธะปะฐะณะฐัŽั‰ะธั…ัั ั„ะพั‚ะพะณั€ะฐั„ะธัั… ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฒะธะดะฝะฐ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะตะณะพ ัะฟะธะฝะฐ, ัะพั…ั€ะฐะฝัั ะฐะฝะพะฝะธะผะฝะพัั‚ัŒ. ะขะตะผ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ะะฝะฝะฐ, ะพะดะตั‚ะฐั ะฒ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพั€ะฝั‹ะน ะผัƒะถัะบะพะน ะฟะธะดะถะฐะบ, ัะธัะปะฐ ัƒะปั‹ะฑะบะพะน, ะฟั€ะพั‚ัะณะธะฒะฐั ะตะผัƒ ั€ัƒะบัƒ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะธ ัƒั…ะพะดะธะปะธ ะฒะผะตัั‚ะต. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะผะพะณะปะฐ ะพั‚ะพั€ะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะณะปะฐะท ะพั‚ ัะบั€ะฐะฝะฐ, ะตั‘ ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะฑั‹ะป ะฟั€ะธะบะพะฒะฐะฝ ะบ ะธะทะพะฑั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธัŽ. ะญั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะป ะพะฝ โ€“ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ! ะŸะธะดะถะฐะบ, ะฝะตะฑั€ะตะถะฝะพ ะฝะฐะฑั€ะพัˆะตะฝะฝั‹ะน ะฝะฐ ะะฝะฝัƒ, ะฝะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะปัะป ัะพะผะฝะตะฝะธะน. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะปะธัˆะบะพะผ ั…ะพั€ะพัˆะพ ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะบะฐะถะดะฐั ะฒะตั‰ัŒ ะฒ ะณะฐั€ะดะตั€ะพะฑะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฑะตะทัƒะฟั€ะตั‡ะฝะพ ััˆะธั‚ะฐ ะปะธั‡ะฝั‹ะผ ะฟะพั€ั‚ะฝั‹ะผ ะทะฐ ะณั€ะฐะฝะธั†ะตะน. ะžะฝะฐ ะดะพ ะฟะพะฑะตะปะตะฝะธั ะบะพัั‚ััˆะตะบ ัะถะฐะปะฐ ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝ, ัะปะพะฒะฝะพ ะฝะตะฒะธะดะธะผะฐั ั€ัƒะบะฐ ัั‚ะธัะฝัƒะปะฐ ะตั‘ ะดัƒัˆัƒ, ะฟั€ะธั‡ะธะฝัั ะพัั‚ั€ัƒัŽ, ะถะณัƒั‡ัƒัŽ ะฑะพะปัŒ. ะ’ ัะฐะผั‹ะน ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะฝั‹ะน ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ ะตั‘ ะถะธะทะฝะธ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝะพ ัะฑั€ะพัะธะป ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ, ะฟั€ะตะดะฟะพั‡ั‚ั ะฑั‹ั‚ัŒ ั€ัะดะพะผ ั ะะฝะฝะพะน. ะงะตะณะพ ัั‚ะพะธะป ะธั… ะดะฒัƒั…ะปะตั‚ะฝะธะน ะฑั€ะฐะบ? ะกะปั‘ะทั‹, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะต ะพะฝะฐ ะฟั‹ั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ัะดะตั€ะถะฐั‚ัŒ, ั…ะปั‹ะฝัƒะปะธ ะฟะพ ะปะธั†ัƒ. ะ”ะฐะถะต ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะทะฐะฟั€ะพะบะธะฝัƒะปะฐ ะณะพะปะพะฒัƒ ะฝะฐะทะฐะด ะฒ ั‚ั‰ะตั‚ะฝะพะน ะฟะพะฟั‹ั‚ะบะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะธั…, ะพะฝะธ ะฟั€ะพะดะพะปะถะฐะปะธ ั‚ะตั‡ัŒ. ะ’ ะธั… ะบั€ัƒะณะฐั… ัˆะตะฟั‚ะฐะปะธััŒ ะพ ั‚ะพะผ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะะฝะฝะฐ ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฟะตั€ะฒะพะน ะปัŽะฑะพะฒัŒัŽ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะกะตะผัŒั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒั‹ั… ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะต ะพะดะพะฑั€ัะปะฐ ะะฝะฝัƒ, ัั‡ะธั‚ะฐั ะตั‘ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพะต ะฟั€ะพะธัั…ะพะถะดะตะฝะธะต ะฝะตะฟะพะดั…ะพะดัั‰ะธะผ. ะ’ั‹ะฝัƒะถะดะตะฝะฝั‹ะต ั€ะฐััั‚ะฐั‚ัŒัั ะธะท-ะทะฐ ัะตะผะตะนะฝะพะณะพ ะดะฐะฒะปะตะฝะธั, ะธะผะตะฝะฝะพ ะะฝะฝะฐ ะฟะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ั‚ะพั‡ะบัƒ ะฒ ะธั… ะพั‚ะฝะพัˆะตะฝะธัั…, ะฝะพ ะฟั€ะพัˆะปะพะต, ะบะฐะบ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ, ะฝะต ั‚ะฐะบ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะฟะพะทะฐะดะธ. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ัƒะฟะพั€ะฝะพ ัั‚ั€ะตะผะธะปัั ะทะฐะฝัั‚ัŒ ะปะธะดะธั€ัƒัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ะฟะพะทะธั†ะธัŽ ะฒ ัะตะผัŒะต ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒั‹ั…, ะปะตะปะตั ะผะตั‡ั‚ัƒ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั†-ั‚ะพ ะฒะพััะพะตะดะธะฝะธั‚ัŒัั ั ะะฝะฝะพะน. ะะพ ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝ ะดะพัั‚ะธะณ ัะฒะพะตะน ั†ะตะปะธ, ั‚ะพ ะพะฑะฝะฐั€ัƒะถะธะป, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ัƒะถะต ะฒั‹ะฑั€ะฐะปะฐ ะดั€ัƒะณะพะณะพ. ะ’ะพะฟั€ะตะบะธ ะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะธัะผ ัะตะผัŒะธ ะธ, ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ะธะท ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะฐ ะณะพั€ะตั‡ะธ, ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะธะปัั ะบ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะต โ€“ ะถะตะฝั‰ะธะฝะต, ัั‚ะพะปัŒ ะถะต ะฝะต ะพะฑั€ะตะผะตะฝั‘ะฝะฝะพะน ะฑะพะณะฐั‚ัั‚ะฒะพะผ ะธ ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธะตะผ ะฒ ะพะฑั‰ะตัั‚ะฒะต, โ€“ ะฟั€ะตะดะปะพะถะธะฒ ะตะน ัั‚ะฐั‚ัŒ ะณะพัะฟะพะถะพะน ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะพะน, ั‚ะตะผ ัะฐะผั‹ะผ ะฟั€ะตัะตะบะฐั ะฒัะต ะฟะพะฟั‹ั‚ะบะธ ั€ะพะดัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝะธะบะพะฒ ะฝะฐะนั‚ะธ ะตะผัƒ ะดั€ัƒะณัƒัŽ ะฟะฐั€ั‚ะธัŽ. ะ’ ั‚ะพ ะฒั€ะตะผั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะธัะฟั‹ั‚ั‹ะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะธะปัŒะฝะพะต ะดะฐะฒะปะตะฝะธะต ัะพ ัั‚ะพั€ะพะฝั‹ ะพั‚ั†ะฐ, ะขะธะผัƒั€ะฐ ะกะฐะฒะตะปัŒะตะฒะฐ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะน ะฟะพะดั‚ะฐะปะบะธะฒะฐะป ะตั‘ ะบ ะฑั€ะฐะบัƒ ั ะฟะปะตะนะฑะพะตะผ, ัั‹ะฝะพะผ ะดะตะปะพะฒะพะณะพ ะฟะฐั€ั‚ะฝั‘ั€ะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะพะฟะปะฐั‚ะธั‚ัŒ ะพะณั€ะพะผะฝั‹ะต ั€ะฐัั…ะพะดั‹ ะฝะฐ ะปะตั‡ะตะฝะธะต ะฑะฐะฑัƒัˆะบะธ. ะ”ะฒะธะถะธะผั‹ะต ัะพะฑัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝั‹ะผะธ ะผะพั‚ะธะฒะฐะผะธ, ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะธ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะพะณะปะฐัะธะปะธััŒ ะฝะฐ ะฑั€ะฐะบ ะฟะพ ั€ะฐัั‡ั‘ั‚ัƒ. ะ˜ะทะฝะฐั‡ะฐะปัŒะฝะพ ั€ะฐััั‡ะธั‚ะฐะฝะฝั‹ะน ะฒัะตะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะณะพะด, ะธั… ะดะพะณะพะฒะพั€ะฝะพะน ะฑั€ะฐะบ ั€ะฐัั‚ัะฝัƒะปัั ะฝะฐ ะฑะพะปะตะต ะดะพะปะณะธะน ัั€ะพะบ, ะฟะพะดะดะตั€ะถะธะฒะฐะตะผั‹ะน ะฝะตะณะปะฐัะฝั‹ะผ ัะพะณะปะฐัˆะตะฝะธะตะผ ะผะตะถะดัƒ ะฝะธะผะธ. ะกะพ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฝะฐั‡ะฐะปะฐ ะฒะตั€ะธั‚ัŒ ะฒ ะฟะพะดะปะธะฝะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ะธั… ัะพัŽะทะฐ, ะฝะต ะฟะพะดะพะทั€ะตะฒะฐั, ั‡ั‚ะพ ัั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะปะพ ะปะธัˆัŒ ะฟั€ะพะดะพะปะถะตะฝะธะตะผ ะตั‘ ะฝะฐะดะตะถะด. ะ’ัะตะณะพ ะฝะตัะบะพะปัŒะบะพ ะผะธะฝัƒั‚ ะฝะฐะทะฐะด ะฟะพะถะฐั€ ะตะดะฒะฐ ะฝะต ัƒะฝั‘ั ะถะธะทะฝัŒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹. ะ’ ั‚ะพั‚ ะบั€ะธั‚ะธั‡ะตัะบะธะน ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพั‚ัะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ, ะฝะพ ะดะฒะฐะถะดั‹ ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธะปะฐ ะพั‚ะบะฐะท, ะฟะพะบะฐ ะพะฝ ะฟั€ะพะฒะพะดะธะป ะฒั€ะตะผั ั ะะฝะฝะพะน. ะญั‚ะฐ ะถะตัั‚ะพะบะฐั ั€ะตะฐะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ั€ะฐะทะฑะธะปะฐ ะธะปะปัŽะทะธะธ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹, ะฟะพะบะฐะทะฐะฒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะตั‘ ะผะฝะธะผั‹ะน ะฟะตั€ะตั…ะพะด ะพั‚ ะฟั€ะธั‚ะฒะพั€ัั‚ะฒะฐ ะบ ะฝะฐัั‚ะพัั‰ะธะผ ะพั‚ะฝะพัˆะตะฝะธัะผ ะฑั‹ะป ะปะธัˆัŒ ั„ะฐัะฐะดะพะผ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะน ะฟะพะดะดะตั€ะถะธะฒะฐะปะธ ะตั‘ ัะพะฑัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝั‹ะต ะถะตะปะฐะฝะธั. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะดะฐะถะต ะฝะต ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะฝะพะน ะทะฐะผะตะฝะพะน ะฒ ะถะธะทะฝะธ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ, ะฐ ะฒัะตะณะพ ะปะธัˆัŒ ะฟะตัˆะบะพะน, ะธัะฟะพะปัŒะทะพะฒะฐะฝะฝะพะน ะฝะฐะทะปะพ ะตะณะพ ัะตะผัŒะต. ะŸะพัะปะต ะดะพะปะณะพะน ะฟะฐัƒะทั‹ ะฝะฐ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะธ ะฝะฐะฒะตั€ะฝัƒะปะธััŒ ะฝะตัƒะดะตั€ะถะธะผั‹ะต ะธ ะฟั€ะพะฝะทะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะต ัะปั‘ะทั‹. ะ’ะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะพ ะฒั€ะตะผั ะพัะฒะพะฑะพะดะธั‚ัŒัั ะพั‚ ะพะบะพะฒ ัะพะฑัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝั‹ั… ะฝะฐะดะตะถะด ะธ ะฟะตั€ะตัั‚ะฐั‚ัŒ ะพะฑะผะฐะฝั‹ะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ัะตะฑั. ะ“ะปะฐะฒะฐ 2 ะะบั‚ัƒะฐะปัŒะฝั‹ะต ั‚ะตะผั‹ ะžะณั€ะพะผะฝะพะต ะบะพะปะธั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะพ ะฟะพัั‚ั€ะฐะดะฐะฒัˆะธั… ะพั‚ ะฟะพะถะฐั€ะฐ ะฑัƒะบะฒะฐะปัŒะฝะพ ะทะฐั…ะปะตัั‚ะฝัƒะปะพ ะฑะพะปัŒะฝะธั†ัƒ, ะทะฐัั‚ะฐะฒะปัั ะธ ะฑะตะท ั‚ะพะณะพ ะธะทะผะพั‚ะฐะฝะฝั‹ั… ะฒั€ะฐั‡ะตะน ะธ ะผะตะดัะตัั‚ั‘ั€ ะธะท ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะธั… ัะธะป ะฟั‹ั‚ะฐั‚ัŒัั ะพะบะฐะทะฐั‚ัŒ ะฟะพะผะพั‰ัŒ ะฒัะตะผ ะฝัƒะถะดะฐัŽั‰ะธะผัั. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะปะธัˆัŒ ัะปะตะณะบะฐ ะทะฐะดะตะปะพ ั€ะฐะทะปะตั‚ะตะฒัˆะตะนัั ะฝะฐ ะพัะบะพะปะบะธ ะฒะตัˆะฐะปะบะพะน ะดะปั ะพะดะตะถะดั‹, ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะฒัˆะตะน ะฝะฐ ะตั‘ ะธะบั€ะต ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบัƒัŽ ั€ะฒะฐะฝัƒัŽ ั€ะฐะฝัƒ. ะŸะพ ัั€ะฐะฒะฝะตะฝะธัŽ ั ั†ะฐั€ะธะฒัˆะธะผ ะฒะพะบั€ัƒะณ ั…ะฐะพัะพะผ ะตั‘ ั‚ั€ะฐะฒะผั‹ ะบะฐะทะฐะปะธััŒ ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะฝะตะทะฝะฐั‡ะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะผะธ. ะ’ ะผะตัั‚ะฝะพะน ะฑะพะปัŒะฝะธั†ะต ะตะน ัƒะดะฐะปะพััŒ ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธั‚ัŒ ะผะธะฝะธะผะฐะปัŒะฝัƒัŽ ะฟะพะผะพั‰ัŒ โ€“ ะฝะฐัะบะพั€ะพ ะพะฑั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะฐะปะธ ะธ ะฟะตั€ะตะฑะธะฝั‚ะพะฒะฐะปะธ ั€ะฐะฝัƒ, โ€“ ะฟะพัะปะต ั‡ะตะณะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะทัะปะฐ ั‚ะฐะบัะธ ะธ ะพั‚ะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปะฐััŒ ะดะพะผะพะน. ะ’ะธะปะปะฐ ยซะŸั€ะธะฑั€ะตะถะฝะฐัยป, ะทะฐะฟะธัะฐะฝะฝะฐั ะฝะฐ ะธะผั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ, ั„ะพั€ะผะฐะปัŒะฝะพ ัะฒะปัะปะฐััŒ ะธั… ััƒะฟั€ัƒะถะตัะบะธะผ ะณะฝั‘ะทะดั‹ัˆะบะพะผ. ะžะดะธะฝะพะบะฐั ะถะธะทะฝัŒ ะดะฐะฒะฝะพ ัั‚ะฐะปะฐ ะฟั€ะธะฒั‹ั‡ะฝะพะน ะดะปั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัŒะบัƒ ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะต ะฑั‹ะฒะฐะป ะดะพะผะฐ. ะžะฝะฐ ั€ะฐัะฟั€ะพั‰ะฐะปะฐััŒ ั ัะบะพะฝะพะผะบะพะน, ะพะฑะฝะฐั€ัƒะถะธะฒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒะฟะพะปะฝะต ะผะพะถะตั‚ ะพะฑั…ะพะดะธั‚ัŒัั ะทะฐะบะฐะทะพะผ ะณะพั‚ะพะฒะพะน ะตะดั‹, ะดะพัั‚ะฐะฒะบะพะน ะฟั€ะพะดัƒะบั‚ะพะฒ ะธ ั€ะตะดะบะธะผะธ ะฒะธะทะธั‚ะฐะผะธ ะฟั€ะธั…ะพะดัั‰ะตะน ัƒะฑะพั€ั‰ะธั†ั‹. ะขะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะพะฝะฐ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐััŒ ะตะดะธะฝัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝะพะน ะพะฑะธั‚ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะธั†ะตะน ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพั€ะฝะพะน ะณะพัั‚ะธะฝะพะน, ะฟะพะณั€ัƒะทะธะฒัˆะธััŒ ะฒ ะดะธะฒะฐะฝ ะธ ั€ะฐััะตัะฝะฝะพ ะพะณะปัะดั‹ะฒะฐั ะฟัƒัั‚ะพะต ะฟั€ะพัั‚ั€ะฐะฝัั‚ะฒะพ. ะกั‚ั€ะพะณะธะน ะผะพะฝะพั…ั€ะพะผะฝั‹ะน ะธะฝั‚ะตั€ัŒะตั€ ะฝะต ะดะพะฑะฐะฒะปัะป ะฟะพะผะตั‰ะตะฝะธัŽ ะฝะธ ะบะฐะฟะปะธ ัƒัŽั‚ะฐ. ะš ะฝะตะน ะฟะพะดะบั€ะฐะปะพััŒ ะปะตะดะตะฝัั‰ะตะต ะดัƒัˆัƒ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะฝะธะต: ัั‚ะพ ะพะณั€ะพะผะฝะพะต, ัะปะตะณะฐะฝั‚ะฝะพะต ะฟั€ะพัั‚ั€ะฐะฝัั‚ะฒะพ ะฑะพะปัŒัˆะต ะฝะฐะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะปะพ ะบะพะปะพััะฐะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ัะบะปะตะฟ, ัั‚ะฐะฒัˆะธะน ะฑะตะทะผะพะปะฒะฝะพะน ะผะพะณะธะปะพะน ะดะปั ะฟะพั‚ะตั€ัะฝะฝั‹ั… ะปะตั‚ ะผะพะปะพะดะพัั‚ะธ ะธ ะฝะตะทะฐะผะตั‚ะฝะพ ัƒะณะฐััˆะตะน ะปัŽะฑะฒะธ. ะ’ ัั‚ะพะผ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝะพะผ, ะฝะฐะฟะพะปะฝะตะฝะฝะพะผ ัั…ะพะผ ะดะพะผะต ะทะฐะผะตั‚ะธะป ะฑั‹ ะบั‚ะพ-ะฝะธะฑัƒะดัŒ, ะตัะปะธ ะฑั‹ ะพะดะฝะฐะถะดั‹ ะตั‘ ะดั‹ั…ะฐะฝะธะต ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพ ะพัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะธะปะพััŒ? ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัƒัั‚ะฐะปะพ ะฒะทะดะพั…ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะธ, ั‚ัะถะตะปะพ ะพะฟะธั€ะฐัััŒ ะฝะฐ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝัƒัŽ ัั‚ะตะฝัƒ, ั ั‚ั€ัƒะดะพะผ ะฝะฐั‡ะฐะปะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝะธะผะฐั‚ัŒัั ะฟะพ ะปะตัั‚ะฝะธั†ะต ะฒ ัะฒะพัŽ ัะฟะฐะปัŒะฝัŽ ะฝะฐ ะฒั‚ะพั€ะพะผ ัั‚ะฐะถะต. ะšะฐะถะดั‹ะน ัˆะฐะณ ะพั‚ะดะฐะฒะฐะปัั ะผัƒั‡ะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพะน ะฑะพะปัŒัŽ, ะพัั‚ั€ั‹ะต ัƒะบะพะปั‹ ะฟั€ะพะฝะทะฐะปะธ ะตั‘ ะพั‚ ะบะพะถะธ ะดะพ ัะฐะผั‹ั… ะบะพัั‚ะตะน. ะ”ะพะผ, ะฟัƒัั‚ะพะน ะธ ะณัƒะปะบะธะน, ะพั‚ั€ะฐะถะฐะป ัั…ะพะผ ะดะฐะถะต ะผะฐะปะตะนัˆะธะต ะทะฒัƒะบะธ, ัƒัะธะปะธะฒะฐั ะพั‰ัƒั‰ะตะฝะธะต ะฟะพะปะฝะพะณะพ ะพะดะธะฝะพั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะฐ. ะ˜ะผะตะฝะฝะพ ัะตะณะพะดะฝั, ัั€ะตะดะธ ัั‚ะพะน ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะพะน ั‚ะธัˆะธะฝั‹, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพ-ะฝะฐัั‚ะพัั‰ะตะผัƒ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะปะฐ ะฒัะตะฟะพะณะปะพั‰ะฐัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ะฟั€ะธั€ะพะดัƒ ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะพะดะธะฝะพั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะฐ โ€“ ะพะฝะพ ัั‚ะฐะปะพ ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะพััะทะฐะตะผั‹ะผ, ะพะบัƒั‚ั‹ะฒะฐะปะพ ะตั‘ ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะฐ ัะฒะพะตะน ั‚ะตะบัั‚ัƒั€ะพะน ะธ ัะบะพั€ะฑะฝั‹ะผ ัˆั‘ะฟะพั‚ะพะผ, ัะถะธะผะฐะปะพ ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะฟะพะดะพะฑะฝะพ ั‚ะธัะบะฐะผ, ะฒั‹ะทั‹ะฒะฐั ั‚ัƒะฟัƒัŽ, ะฝะตะฟั€ะตะบั€ะฐั‰ะฐัŽั‰ัƒัŽัั ะฑะพะปัŒ. ะ”ะพะฑั€ะฐะฒัˆะธััŒ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั† ะดะพ ัƒะฑะตะถะธั‰ะฐ ัะฒะพะตะน ัะฟะฐะปัŒะฝะธ, ะพะฝะฐ ั€ัƒั…ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะบั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒ, ะฒะพะฟะปะพั‰ะฐั ัะพะฑะพะน ะฟะพะปะฝะพะต ั„ะธะทะธั‡ะตัะบะพะต ะธ ะดัƒัˆะตะฒะฝะพะต ะธะทะฝะตะผะพะถะตะฝะธะต. ะ˜ะผะตะฝะฝะพ ะฒ ั‚ะพั‚ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚, ั‚ะธัˆะธะฝัƒ ะฟั€ะพั€ะตะทะฐะป ั€ะตะทะบะธะน ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝะฝั‹ะน ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ. ยซะขั‹ ะทะฒะพะฝะธะปะฐ ะผะฝะต ั€ะฐะฝัŒัˆะต. ะงั‚ะพ ั‚ะตะฑะต ะฝัƒะถะฝะพ?ยป โ€“ ะณะพะปะพั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะพะทะฒัƒั‡ะฐะป ะฒ ั‚ั€ัƒะฑะบะต ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝะพ ะธ ะพั‚ัั‚ั€ะฐะฝั‘ะฝะฝะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ. ะ”ะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ั€ะฐัั‚ะตั€ัะปะฐััŒ ะพั‚ ะตะณะพ ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะทะฒะพะฝะบะฐ. ะžะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธะพั‚ะบั€ั‹ะปะฐ ะณัƒะฑั‹, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ะธั‚ัŒ, ะฝะพ ัะปะพะฒะฐ ะทะฐัั‚ั€ัะปะธ ะฒ ะณะพั€ะปะต, ะฐ ั ะดั€ัƒะณะพะณะพ ะบะพะฝั†ะฐ ะฟั€ะพะฒะพะดะฐ ะฒะดั€ัƒะณ ะดะพะฝั‘ััั ะผัะณะบะธะน ะถะตะฝัะบะธะน ะณะพะปะพั: ยซะšะพัั‚ั, ะผะพะถะตั‚, ะฟั€ะธัะพะตะดะธะฝะธัˆัŒัั ะบะพ ะผะฝะต...ยป ะžั‚ ะฝะฐั…ะปั‹ะฝัƒะฒัˆะธั… ัะผะพั†ะธะน ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะดะพ ะฑะพะปะธ ัั‚ะธัะฝัƒะปะฐ ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝ, ะตั‘ ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ั ะบะฐะถะดะพะน ัะตะบัƒะฝะดะพะน ะบะพะปะพั‚ะธะปะพััŒ ะฒัั‘ ัะธะปัŒะฝะตะต. ะะต ะฒ ัะธะปะฐั… ัะดะตั€ะถะฐั‚ัŒ ะฝะฐั€ะฐัั‚ะฐัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ะฟะฐะฝะธะบัƒ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพั‚ั€ะตะฑะพะฒะฐะปะฐ: ยซะšั‚ะพ ั‚ะฐะผ ั ั‚ะพะฑะพะน?ยป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฝะต ะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ะธะป ะฝะฐ ะฒะพะฟั€ะพั, ะปะธัˆัŒ ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝั‘ั ั€ะฐะฒะฝะพะดัƒัˆะฝั‹ะผ ั‚ะพะฝะพะผ: ยซะ•ัะปะธ ั‚ะตะฑะต ั‡ั‚ะพ-ั‚ะพ ะฝัƒะถะฝะพ, ะฟะพะณะพะฒะพั€ะธะผ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ั ะฒะตั€ะฝัƒััŒ. ะกะตะนั‡ะฐั ัƒ ะผะตะฝั ะฝะตะพั‚ะปะพะถะฝั‹ะต ะดะตะปะฐ, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ั ะฒั‹ะฝัƒะถะดะตะฝ ะทะฐะบะพะฝั‡ะธั‚ัŒ ั€ะฐะทะณะพะฒะพั€ยป. ะžะฝ ั‚ัƒั‚ ะถะต ะพะฑะพั€ะฒะฐะป ัะฒัะทัŒ, ะฝะต ะดะฐะฒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะต ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพัั‚ะธ ั‡ั‚ะพ-ะปะธะฑะพ ัะบะฐะทะฐั‚ัŒ. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะฒ ัƒัˆะฐั… ั€ะฐะทะดะฐะปะธััŒ ะบะพั€ะพั‚ะบะธะต ะณัƒะดะบะธ, ะณัƒะฑั‹ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะธัะบั€ะธะฒะธะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะณะพั€ัŒะบะพะน ัƒัะผะตัˆะบะต. ะšะฐะบะพะน ะถะต ะณะปัƒะฟะพะน ะพะฝะฐ ัะตะฑั ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ! ะ’ ะณะปัƒะฑะธะฝะต ะดัƒัˆะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะตะบั€ะฐัะฝะพ ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ะบะฐะบะธะผ ะฑัƒะดะตั‚ ะตะณะพ ะพั‚ะฒะตั‚, ะฝะพ ะฒัั‘ ั€ะฐะฒะฝะพ ั†ะตะฟะปัะปะฐััŒ ะทะฐ ะฝะฐะดะตะถะดัƒ ัƒัะปั‹ัˆะฐั‚ัŒ ัั‚ะพ ะธะท ะตะณะพ ัƒัั‚. ะก ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะพะผ ะณะพั€ัŒะบะพะน ะธั€ะพะฝะธะธ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฒะบะปัŽั‡ะธะปะฐ ะฟะปะฐะฝัˆะตั‚ ะธ ะฟั€ะพะปะธัั‚ะฐะปะฐ ะณะพั€ัั‡ะธะต ั‚ะตะผั‹ ะดะฝั. ะžะดะธะฝ ะทะฐะณะพะปะพะฒะพะบ ัั€ะฐะทัƒ ะฑั€ะพัะธะปัั ะตะน ะฒ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ: ยซะ˜ะทะฒะตัั‚ะฝัƒัŽ ะฐะบั‚ั€ะธััƒ ะทะฐั‰ะธั‚ะธะป ะพั‚ ะดะพะผะพะณะฐั‚ะตะปัŒัั‚ะฒ ะฝะฐ ะดะตะปะพะฒะพะผ ัƒะถะธะฝะต ะตั‘ ะฒะปะธัั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ะฒะพะทะปัŽะฑะปะตะฝะฝั‹ะนยป. ะฏะทะฒะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะฐั ัƒะปั‹ะฑะบะฐ ัะบั€ะธะฒะธะปะฐ ะตั‘ ะณัƒะฑั‹. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะปะธัˆะบะพะผ ั…ะพั€ะพัˆะพ ะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะทะฝะฐั‡ะธั‚ ะฟะพะดะฒะตั€ะณะฐั‚ัŒัั ะดะพะผะพะณะฐั‚ะตะปัŒัั‚ะฒะฐะผ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดะพะฑะฝั‹ั… ัƒะถะธะฝะฐั…. ะžะฝะฐ ะพั‚ั‡ั‘ั‚ะปะธะฒะพ ะฟะพะผะฝะธะปะฐ ัะฒะพั‘ ะฟะตั€ะฒะพะต ัะตั€ัŒั‘ะทะฝะพะต ะฟั€ะพัะปัƒัˆะธะฒะฐะฝะธะต ะฟะพัะปะต ะฟั€ะธั…ะพะดะฐ ะฒ ัˆะพัƒ-ะฑะธะทะฝะตั โ€“ ะฐะณะตะฝั‚ ะฟั€ะธะฒั‘ะป ะตั‘ ะฝะฐ ัƒะถะธะฝ ั ะฒะปะธัั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะผ ั€ะตะถะธััั‘ั€ะพะผ ะธ ะฟั€ะพะดัŽัะตั€ะพะผ ะดั€ะฐะผะฐั‚ะธั‡ะตัะบะพะณะพ ัะตั€ะธะฐะปะฐ ยซะ’ะทะดะพั…ะธ ะ‘ะตะทะผัั‚ะตะถะฝะพัั‚ะธยป. ะ‘ัƒะดัƒั‡ะธ ะฝะพะฒะธั‡ะบะพะผ ะฒ ะณะพะปะพะฒะพะบั€ัƒะถะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพะผ ะผะธั€ะต ัˆะพัƒ-ะฑะธะทะฝะตัะฐ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะตะฑั ะฝะตะฒะตั€ะพัั‚ะฝะพ ัƒัะทะฒะธะผะพะน, ะฝะต ะทะฝะฐั, ะบะฐะบ ะปะฐะฒะธั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะฒ ะผัƒั‚ะฝั‹ั… ะฒะพะดะฐั… ะฟะพะดะพะฑะฝั‹ั… ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‡. ะŸั€ะพะดัŽัะตั€ ะฑะตะทะทะฐัั‚ะตะฝั‡ะธะฒะพ ั€ะฐะทะณะปัะดั‹ะฒะฐะป ะตั‘, ะฝะฐัะผะตัˆะปะธะฒะพ ัะฟั€ะฐัˆะธะฒะฐั: ยซะญั‚ะพ ะธ ะตัั‚ัŒ ั‚ะพั‚ ะฝะพะฒั‹ะน ั‚ะฐะปะฐะฝั‚, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะพะณะพ ะฒั‹ ะฟั€ะตะดัั‚ะฐะฒะปัะตั‚ะต? ะ’ั‹ะณะปัะดะธั‚ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะตะฟะปะพั…ะพ, ะฝะพ ะปัŽะฑะพะฟั‹ั‚ะฝะพ ะฟะพัะผะพั‚ั€ะตั‚ัŒ, ะบะฐะบ ัะฟั€ะฐะฒะธั‚ัั ั ะฒั‹*ะธะฒะบะพะน. ะ’ะพั‚ ั‡ั‚ะพ ั ัะบะฐะถัƒ: ะตัะปะธ ัะผะพะถะตัˆัŒ ะพััƒัˆะธั‚ัŒ ัั‚ัƒ ะฑ*ั‚ั‹ะปะบัƒ ะทะฐะปะฟะพะผ, ะพะฑะตัะฟะตั‡ัƒ ั‚ะตะฑะต ะฟั€ะพัะปัƒัˆะธะฒะฐะฝะธะต ะฝะฐ ะณะปะฐะฒะฝัƒัŽ ั€ะพะปัŒยป. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั…ะพั‚ะตะปะฐ ะพั‚ะบะฐะทะฐั‚ัŒัั, ะฝะพ ะฟะพะด ะฝะฐัั‚ะพะนั‡ะธะฒั‹ะผ ะดะฐะฒะปะตะฝะธะตะผ ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะฐะณะตะฝั‚ะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฒั‹ะฝัƒะถะดะตะฝะฐ. ะš ะฒะตั‡ะตั€ัƒ ะตั‘ ัะฟะตัˆะฝะพ ัƒะฒะตะทะปะธ ะฒ ะฑะพะปัŒะฝะธั†ัƒ ั ั‚ัะถั‘ะปั‹ะผ ะพั‚ั€ะฐะฒะปะตะฝะธะตะผ. ะ•ั‘ ะฐะณะตะฝั‚, ะพะฑะตัะฟะพะบะพะตะฝะฝั‹ะน ั‚ะตะผ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ั€ะพะปัŒ ะผะพะถะตั‚ ะดะพัั‚ะฐั‚ัŒัั ะบะพะผัƒ-ั‚ะพ ะดั€ัƒะณะพะผัƒ, ั‚ะพั€ะพะฟะปะธะฒะพ ะพะฟะปะฐั‚ะธะป ะฑะพะปัŒะฝะธั‡ะฝั‹ะต ัั‡ะตั‚ะฐ ะธ ะธัั‡ะตะท. ะ’ ะธั‚ะพะณะต ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ะฟั€ะพะฒะตะปะฐ ะฝะตัะบะพะปัŒะบะพ ะดะพะปะณะธั… ะดะฝะตะน ะฒ ะฑะพะปัŒะฝะธั‡ะฝะพะน ะฟะฐะปะฐั‚ะต ะฒ ะฟะพะปะฝะพะผ ะพะดะธะฝะพั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะต. ะะพ ะตั‰ั‘ ะดะพ ั‚ะพะณะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะฒั‹ะฟะธัะฐะปะธ, ะฒ ะฟั€ะตััะต ั€ะฐะทะปะตั‚ะตะปะฐััŒ ะฝะพะฒะพัั‚ัŒ ะพ ั‚ะพะผ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะณะปะฐะฒะฝัƒัŽ ั€ะพะปัŒ ะฒะพ ยซะ’ะทะดะพั…ะฐั… ะ‘ะตะทะผัั‚ะตะถะฝะพัั‚ะธยป ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธะปะฐ ะะฝะฝะฐ. ะŸะพะทะถะต ะฐะณะตะฝั‚ ะพั‚ั‡ะธั‚ะฐะป ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะทะฐ ะฝะตะดะพัั‚ะฐั‚ะพะบ ะฐะผะฑะธั†ะธะน, ะฒะพะทะผัƒั‰ะฐัััŒ: ยซะขั‹ ะฟั€ะธะฒะปะตะบะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะตะต ะะฝะฝั‹, ั‚ะฐะบ ะฟะพั‡ะตะผัƒ ะถะต ะฝะต ะผะพะถะตัˆัŒ ะฟั€ะพัะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะฑะพะปัŒัˆะต ะฝะฐัั‚ะพะนั‡ะธะฒะพัั‚ะธ? ะžะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพ ะฟะพะดะพะปัŒัั‚ะธะปะฐััŒ ะบ ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝัƒ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัƒ, ะธ ะตะน ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะฝะต ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะพััŒ ะฟั€ะธะบะปะฐะดั‹ะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ัƒัะธะปะธะน. ะ•ั‘ ะพะบั€ัƒะถะฐัŽั‚ ะปัŽะดะธ, ะณะพั‚ะพะฒั‹ะต ะธัะฟะพะปะฝะธั‚ัŒ ะปัŽะฑะพะน ะบะฐะฟั€ะธะท. ะฏ ัะปั‹ัˆะฐะป, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ ะปะธั‡ะฝะพ ะฟะพัะพะดะตะนัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐะป, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธะปะฐ ะณะปะฐะฒะฝัƒัŽ ั€ะพะปัŒ ะฒ ัั‚ะพะผ ะฟั€ะพะตะบั‚ะต!ยป ะŸะพัะปะต ะฒั‹ั…ะพะดะฐ ัะตั€ะธะฐะปะฐ ะะฝะฝะฐ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ะฐะปัŒะฝะพ ัั‚ะฐะปะฐ ะทะฒะตะทะดะพะน, ัั‚ั€ะตะผะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะฒะทะปะตั‚ะตะฒ ะฝะฐ ะฒะตั€ัˆะธะฝัƒ ะฐะบั‚ั‘ั€ัะบะพะณะพ ะžะปะธะผะฟะฐ. ะก ั‚ะพะณะพ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ัะฒะพะธ ะฐะบั‚ั‘ั€ัะบะธะต ะฐะผะฑะธั†ะธะธ ะธ ั€ะตัˆะธะปะฐ ะฟะพะปะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะฟะพัะฒัั‚ะธั‚ัŒ ัะตะฑั ะฟะพะดะดะตั€ะถะบะต ะผัƒะถะฐ, ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะ’ ะบะพะฝั†ะต ะบะพะฝั†ะพะฒ, ะบะฐะบ ะฑั‹ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะธ ัั‚ะฐั€ะฐะปะฐััŒ, ะตะน ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะต ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธั‚ัŒ ั‚ะตั… ะบะฐั€ัŒะตั€ะฝั‹ั… ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพัั‚ะตะน, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะต, ะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ, ัะฐะผะธ ะฟะฐะดะฐะปะธ ะฒ ั€ัƒะบะธ ะะฝะฝะต ะฑะปะฐะณะพะดะฐั€ั ัะปัƒั‡ะฐะนะฝั‹ะผ ะทะฐะผะตั‡ะฐะฝะธัะผ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะขะพะณะดะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัั‡ะธั‚ะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะทะฐะฝัะปะฐ ะผะตัั‚ะพ, ะฟั€ะตะดะฝะฐะทะฝะฐั‡ะฐะฒัˆะตะตัั ะะฝะฝะต, ัั‚ะฐะฒ ะณะพัะฟะพะถะพะน ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะพะน, ะฐ ะทะฝะฐั‡ะธั‚, ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฟะตั€ะตะด ะฝะตะน ะฒ ะดะพะปะณัƒ. ะฃัั‚ัƒะฟะฐั ะะฝะฝะต ะบะฐั€ัŒะตั€ะฝั‹ะต ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพัั‚ะธ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปะฐะณะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะพะฝะธ ั€ะฐััั‡ะธั‚ะฐัŽั‚ัั ั ัั‚ะธะผ ะฝะตะณะปะฐัะฝั‹ะผ ะดะพะปะณะพะผ. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะธ ะฟั€ะตะดัั‚ะฐะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะฝะต ะผะพะณะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะะฝะฝะฐ ะทะฐั…ะพั‡ะตั‚ ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธั‚ัŒ ะฝะต ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะถะตะปะฐะฝะฝัƒัŽ ะบะฐั€ัŒะตั€ัƒ, ะฝะพ ะธ ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะะฐะฑะปัŽะดะฐั ะทะฐ ั‚ะตะผ, ะบะฐะบ ั€ะฐัั†ะฒะตั‚ะฐะตั‚ ะฟั€ะพั„ะตััะธะพะฝะฐะปัŒะฝะฐั ะธ ะปะธั‡ะฝะฐั ะถะธะทะฝัŒ ะะฝะฝั‹, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั ะฑะพะปัŒัŽ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะปะธัˆะบะพะผ ัƒะฒะปะตะบะปะฐััŒ ะฟะพะณะพะฝะตะน ะทะฐ ะปัŽะฑะพะฒัŒัŽ ะฒ ัƒั‰ะตั€ะฑ ะบะฐั€ัŒะตั€ะต, ะฐ ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะพัั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฑะตะท ั‚ะพะณะพ ะธ ะดั€ัƒะณะพะณะพ. ะกะพ ัะปะตะทะฐะผะธ ะฝะฐ ะณะปะฐะทะฐั… ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะธะต ะดะฒะฐ ะณะพะดะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะธ ั‚ั€ะฐะณะธั‡ะตัะบะพะน ะพัˆะธะฑะบะพะน. ะŸะพะปัƒั‡ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒั‚ะพั€ะพะน ัˆะฐะฝั, ะพะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ ะฝะต ะฟะพะทะฒะพะปะธะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต ะฑั‹ั‚ัŒ ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ะฝะฐะธะฒะฝะพะน ะธ ะฝะต ะดะฐะปะฐ ะฑั‹ ัะฒะพะตะผัƒ ัะตั€ะดั†ัƒ ั‚ะฐะบ ะฑะตะทั€ะฐัััƒะดะฝะพ ะฟะพะฟะฐัั‚ัŒ ะฒ ะฟะปะตะฝ ะพั‡ะฐั€ะพะฒะฐะฝะธั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ยซะ“ะพัะฟะพะถะฐ ะกะฐะฒะพัั‚ะพะฒะฐ, ะฝะพะฒั‹ะน ะดะพะณะพะฒะพั€ ะพะฑ ะฐะฒั‚ะพั€ัะบะธั… ะฟั€ะฐะฒะฐั… ะฟะพะดะณะพั‚ะพะฒะปะตะฝ. ะŸะพะถะฐะปัƒะนัั‚ะฐ, ะฟั€ะพะฒะตั€ัŒั‚ะต ะตะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะตะดะผะตั‚ ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝั‹ั… ะฝะตัะพะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ัั‚ะฒะธะนยป. ะ–ัƒะถะถะฐะฝะธะต ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝะฐ ะฒั‹ั€ะฒะฐะปะพ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะธะท ั€ะฐะทะผั‹ัˆะปะตะฝะธะน. ะžะฝะฐ ะฟะพัะผะพั‚ั€ะตะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธะบั€ะตะฟะปั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะน ะบ ัะพะพะฑั‰ะตะฝะธัŽ PDF-ั„ะฐะนะป, ะธ ะตั‘ ะผั‹ัะปะธ ะฝะฐ ะผะณะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธะต ัะฟัƒั‚ะฐะปะธััŒ. ะŸะพะด ะฟัะตะฒะดะพะฝะธะผะพะผ, ะ•ะบะฐั‚ะตั€ะธะฝะฐ ะกะฐะฒะพัั‚ะพะฒะฐ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะบะพะณะดะฐ-ั‚ะพ ัะดะตะปะฐะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต ะธะผั ะบะฐะบ ะฟะพะดะฐัŽั‰ะธะน ะฝะฐะดะตะถะดั‹ ัั†ะตะฝะฐั€ะธัั‚, ะฟั€ะพะดะฐะฒ ะผะฝะพะถะตัั‚ะฒะพ ัั†ะตะฝะฐั€ะธะตะฒ ะฝะฐ ะทะฐั€ะต ัะฒะพะตะน ะบะฐั€ัŒะตั€ั‹. ะ’ ะฝะฐั‡ะฐะปะต ะฟัƒั‚ะธ ะฟะพะด ะธะผะตะฝะตะผ ะ•ะบะฐั‚ะตั€ะธะฝั‹, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั‡ะฐัั‚ะพ ะฟั€ะพะดะฐะฒะฐะปะฐ ัะฒะพะธ ั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ั‹ ะทะฐ ะฑะตัั†ะตะฝะพะบ, ะฒั‹ะฝัƒะถะดะตะฝะฝะฐั ัั€ะพั‡ะฝะพ ะดะพะฑั‹ะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะฝะฐะปะธั‡ะฝั‹ะต. ะกะพ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ัั‚ะธ ัั†ะตะฝะฐั€ะธะธ ะฟั€ะตะฒั€ะฐั‚ะธะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะบะฐััะพะฒั‹ะต ั„ะธะปัŒะผั‹ ะธ ัƒัะฟะตัˆะฝั‹ะต ัะตั€ะธะฐะปั‹, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒะพะทะฝะตัะปะพ ั€ะตะฟัƒั‚ะฐั†ะธัŽ ะ•ะบะฐั‚ะตั€ะธะฝั‹ ะฝะฐ ะฝะตะฑั‹ะฒะฐะปัƒัŽ ะฒั‹ัะพั‚ัƒ. ะš ั‚ะพะผัƒ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ัƒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัƒะถะต ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะทะฐะผัƒะถะตะผ ะทะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะพะผ ะธ ะฑะพะปัŒัˆะต ะฝะต ัั‚ั€ะฐะดะฐะปะฐ ะพั‚ ั„ะธะฝะฐะฝัะพะฒั‹ั… ะฟั€ะพะฑะปะตะผ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะต ั€ะฐะฝัŒัˆะต ะดะพะฒะพะดะธะปะธ ะตั‘ ะดะพ ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะธั, โ€“ ะพะณั€ะพะผะฝั‹ะต ัั‡ะตั‚ะฐ ะทะฐ ะปะตั‡ะตะฝะธะต ะฑะฐะฑัƒัˆะบะธ ะพัั‚ะฐะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะฟั€ะพัˆะปะพะผ. ะŸะพัะปะต ั€ะฐะทั€ะตัˆะตะฝะธั ั„ะธะฝะฐะฝัะพะฒั‹ั… ั‚ั€ัƒะดะฝะพัั‚ะตะน ะถะธะทะฝัŒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ัะพัั€ะตะดะพั‚ะพั‡ะธะปะฐััŒ ะฝะฐ ะดะพะผะฐัˆะฝะธั… ะพะฑัะทะฐะฝะฝะพัั‚ัั…, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัŒะบัƒ ะพะฝะฐ ัั‚ั€ะตะผะธะปะฐััŒ ัั‚ะฐั‚ัŒ ะพะฑั€ะฐะทั†ะพะฒะพะน ะถะตะฝะพะน ะดะปั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะะฐ ั„ะพะฝะต ัั‚ะธั… ะฟะตั€ะตะผะตะฝ ะตั‘ ะฟัะตะฒะดะพะฝะธะผ ะ•ะบะฐั‚ะตั€ะธะฝะฐ ะกะฐะฒะพัั‚ะพะฒะฐ ะฟะพัั‚ะตะฟะตะฝะฝะพ ะพั‚ะพัˆั‘ะป ะฒ ั‚ะตะฝัŒ. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ ะฟั€ะพัˆะปะพะต ะ•ะบะฐั‚ะตั€ะธะฝั‹ ะตั‰ั‘ ะฝะต ัะพะฑะธั€ะฐะปะพััŒ ะพะบะพะฝั‡ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ัƒั…ะพะดะธั‚ัŒ ะฒ ะฝะตะฑั‹ั‚ะธะต. ะะตะดะฐะฒะฝะพ ะพะฑัŠัะฒะธะปัั ะทะฐะธะฝั‚ะตั€ะตัะพะฒะฐะฝะฝั‹ะน ะฟะพะบัƒะฟะฐั‚ะตะปัŒ, ะณะพั‚ะพะฒั‹ะน ะทะฐะฟะปะฐั‚ะธั‚ัŒ ะฒะฝัƒัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝัƒัŽ ััƒะผะผัƒ ะทะฐ ะพะดะธะฝ ะธะท ะตั‘ ัั‚ะฐั€ั‹ั… ัั†ะตะฝะฐั€ะธะตะฒ. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ะฒะฟั€ะพั‡ะตะผ, ะบะพะปะตะฑะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฝะฐัั‡ั‘ั‚ ะฟั€ะพะดะฐะถะธ. ะžะฝะฐ ะฒั‹ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะฝะตัะบะพะปัŒะบะพ ะทะฐะผะตั‡ะฐะฝะธะน ะฟะพ ะฟะพะฒะพะดัƒ ะฟั€ะตะดะปะพะถะตะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะบะพะฝั‚ั€ะฐะบั‚ะฐ, ะธ, ะบ ะตั‘ ัƒะดะธะฒะปะตะฝะธัŽ, ะฟะพะบัƒะฟะฐั‚ะตะปัŒ ะพะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ะดะพัั‚ะฐั‚ะพั‡ะฝะพ ะฟะพั€ัะดะพั‡ะฝั‹ะผ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะฒะฝะตัั‚ะธ ัะพะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ัั‚ะฒัƒัŽั‰ะธะต ะฟั€ะฐะฒะบะธ. ะ”ะตั€ะถะฐ ะฒ ั€ัƒะบะฐั… ะธัะฟั€ะฐะฒะปะตะฝะฝั‹ะน ะบะพะฝั‚ั€ะฐะบั‚, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะดะตะปะฐะปะฐ ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะธะน ะฒะดะพั…, ะธ ะตั‘ ั€ะตัˆะธะผะพัั‚ัŒ ะพะบั€ะตะฟะปะฐ. ะ•ั‘ ะฟะฐะปัŒั†ั‹ ัƒะฒะตั€ะตะฝะฝะพ ะทะฐะฑะตะณะฐะปะธ ะฟะพ ะบะปะฐะฒะธะฐั‚ัƒั€ะต ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝะฐ, ะฝะฐะฑะธั€ะฐั ั‡ั‘ั‚ะบะพะต ั€ะฐัะฟะพั€ัะถะตะฝะธะต. ยซะŸะพะดะณะพั‚ะพะฒัŒั‚ะต ัะพะณะปะฐัˆะตะฝะธะต ะพ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะต ัะพะณะปะฐัะฝะพ ะผะพะธะผ ัƒัะปะพะฒะธัะผ ะธ ะพะฑะตัะฟะตั‡ัŒั‚ะต ะตะณะพ ะดะพัั‚ะฐะฒะบัƒ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒัƒ ะฒ ะพั„ะธั ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ ะ“ั€ัƒะฟะฟยป. ะะต ะดะพะถะธะดะฐัััŒ ะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ะฐ, ะพะฝะฐ ะพั‚ะปะพะถะธะปะฐ ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝ ะธ, ะฟั€ะธั…ั€ะฐะผั‹ะฒะฐั, ะฝะฐะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปะฐััŒ ะฒ ะฒะฐะฝะฝัƒัŽ, ะฟั€ะธั‡ั‘ะผ ะบะฐะถะดั‹ะน ะตั‘ ัˆะฐะณ ะฑั‹ะป ะฝะฐะฟะพะปะฝะตะฝ ั€ะตัˆะธะผะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะธ ะฒะฝะพะฒัŒ ะพะฑั€ะตั‚ั‘ะฝะฝะพะน ะฝะตะทะฐะฒะธัะธะผะพัั‚ัŒัŽ. ะ“ะปะฐะฒะฐ 3 ะžะฑะผะตะฝ ัƒะดะพะฑัั‚ะฒะฐะผะธ ะŸั€ะพัˆะปะพ ั‚ั€ะธะดั†ะฐั‚ัŒ ะผะธะฝัƒั‚, ะฟั€ะตะถะดะต ั‡ะตะผ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะบะพะฝะตั† ะฒั‹ะฑั€ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะธะท ะฒะฐะฝะฝั‹, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัŒะบัƒ ะตั‘ ะบะพะฝะตั‡ะฝะพัั‚ะธ ะฑั‹ะปะธ ั‚ัะถั‘ะปั‹ะผะธ ะธ ะฝะต ัะปัƒัˆะฐะปะธััŒ. ะŸะพะดะฝัะฒ ะฒะทะณะปัะด, ะพะฝะฐ ะทะฐะผะตั€ะปะฐ, ัƒะฒะธะดะตะฒ ัะฒะพั‘ ะพั‚ั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะต ะฒ ะทะตั€ะบะฐะปะต, ะณะดะต ะบะพะถะฐ ะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐััŒ ะณะปะฐะดะบะพะน ะธ ะฑะตะทัƒะฟั€ะตั‡ะฝะพะน, ะบะฐะบ ั‚ะพะฝั‡ะฐะนัˆะธะน ั„ะฐั€ั„ะพั€, ัะธัั ะตัั‚ะตัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝั‹ะผ ัะฒะตั‚ะพะผ. ะ•ั‘ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ, ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะธะต ะพะผัƒั‚ั‹ ัะพะฑะปะฐะทะฝะฐ, ะธัะบั€ะธะปะธััŒ ั‡ะฐั€ัƒัŽั‰ะธะผ, ะผัะณะบะธะผ ั‚ะตะฟะปะพะผ, ะฟั€ะธั‚ัะณะธะฒะฐั ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะบะฐะถะดะพะณะพ, ะบั‚ะพ ะพัะผะตะปะธะฒะฐะปัั ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‚ะธั‚ัŒัั ั ะฝะตะน ะณะปะฐะทะฐะผะธ. ะะตัะผะพั‚ั€ั ะฝะฐ ั‚ะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒ ัะฒะพะธ ะดะฒะฐะดั†ะฐั‚ัŒ ะฟัั‚ัŒ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธะฑะปะธะถะฐะปะฐััŒ ะบ ะบะพะฝั†ัƒ ั‚ั€ะตั‚ัŒะตะณะพ ะดะตััั‚ะบะฐ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั€ะฐะดะพะฒะฐะปะฐััŒ ั‚ะพะผัƒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒั€ะตะผั ะตั‰ั‘ ะฝะต ัƒัะฟะตะปะพ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธั‚ัŒ ัะฒะพะน ะพั‚ะฟะตั‡ะฐั‚ะพะบ ะฝะฐ ะตั‘ ะฑะตะทัƒะฟั€ะตั‡ะฝะพะผ ะปะธั†ะต. ะžะฟั€ะตะดะตะปั‘ะฝะฝะพ, ะถะตะฝั‰ะธะฝะต ั ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ะฒะฝะตัˆะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะฝะต ะฟั€ะธัั‚ะฐะปะพ ะถะฐะปะตั‚ัŒ ัะตะฑั. ะŸะพะณั€ัƒะถั‘ะฝะฝะฐั ะฒ ั€ะฐะทะผั‹ัˆะปะตะฝะธั, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฝะตะฑั€ะตะถะฝะพ ะพะฟัƒัั‚ะธะปะฐ ะฟั€ะฐะฒัƒัŽ ะฝะพะณัƒ ะฝะฐ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝั‹ะน ะฟะพะป, ะฟะพะทะฐะฑั‹ะฒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะธะผะตะฝะฝะพ ัั‚ะฐ ะฝะพะณะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ั‚ั€ะฐะฒะผะธั€ะพะฒะฐะฝะฐ. ะŸะปะพั‚ะฝะพ ะพะฑั‘ั€ะฝัƒั‚ะฐั ะฟะธั‰ะตะฒะพะน ะฟะปั‘ะฝะบะพะน ะดะปั ะทะฐั‰ะธั‚ั‹ ะพั‚ ะฒะปะฐะณะธ, ะฟะตั€ะตั‚ัะฝัƒั‚ะฐั ะบะพะฝะตั‡ะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะฟะพั‚ะตั€ัะปะฐ ะบั€ะพะฒะพะพะฑั€ะฐั‰ะตะฝะธะต, ะพั‚ั‡ะตะณะพ ะถัƒั‚ะบะพ ะพะฝะตะผะตะปะฐ. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะตั‘ ัั‚ัƒะฟะฝั ะบะพัะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ะฟะพะปะฐ, ะฝะพะณะฐ ะฟั€ะตะดะฐั‚ะตะปัŒัะบะธ ัะบะพะปัŒะทะฝัƒะปะฐ ะฒะฟะตั€ั‘ะด. ยซะั…!ยป โ€“ ะฒัะบั€ะธะบะฝัƒะปะฐ ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ, ะตั‘ ั€ัƒะบะธ ะฑะตัะฟะพั€ัะดะพั‡ะฝะพ ะทะฐะผะตั‚ะฐะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะฒะพะทะดัƒั…ะต ะฒ ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะฝะพะน ะฟะพะฟั‹ั‚ะบะต ะฝะฐะนั‚ะธ ั‚ะพั‡ะบัƒ ะพะฟะพั€ั‹. ะ’ ั‚ะพั‚ ัะฐะผั‹ะน ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฝะฐ ะณั€ะฐะฝะธ ะฑะพะปะตะทะฝะตะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะฟะฐะดะตะฝะธั, ะดะฒะตั€ัŒ ะฒะฐะฝะฝะพะน ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ. ะะฐ ะฟะพั€ะพะณะต ัั‚ะพัะป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ, ะตะณะพ ะฑะตะทัƒะฟั€ะตั‡ะฝะพ ัะธะดัั‰ะธะน ะบะพัั‚ัŽะผ ะฟะพะดั‡ั‘ั€ะบะธะฒะฐะป ะฒะฝัƒัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝัƒัŽ ั„ะธะณัƒั€ัƒ. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะธั… ะฒะทะณะปัะดั‹ ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‚ะธะปะธััŒ, ะพะฝ ะฝะฐ ะผะณะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธะต ะทะฐะผะตั€, ัะฒะฝะพ ัƒะดะธะฒะปั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะน, ะฐ ะทะฐั‚ะตะผ ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ั‹ะผะธ ัˆะฐะณะฐะผะธ ะฟั€ะตะพะดะพะปะตะป ั€ะฐะทะดะตะปัะฒัˆะตะต ะธั… ั€ะฐััั‚ะพัะฝะธะต. ะฃ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะฟะตั€ะตั…ะฒะฐั‚ะธะปะพ ะดั‹ั…ะฐะฝะธะต, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดั…ะฒะฐั‚ะธะป ะตั‘ ะฝะฐ ั€ัƒะบะธ, ะบะฐะบ ะฝะตะฒะตัั‚ัƒ, ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพ ะบั€ะตะฟะบะพ ะพะฑั…ะฒะฐั‚ะธะฒ ะทะฐ ั‚ะฐะปะธัŽ. ะ—ะฐัั‚ะธะณะฝัƒั‚ะฐั ะฒั€ะฐัะฟะปะพั… ะตะณะพ ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝั‹ะผ ะฟะพัะฒะปะตะฝะธะตะผ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ั ัƒะถะฐัะพะผ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะพะฒะตั€ัˆะตะฝะฝะพ ะพะฑะฝ*ะถะตะฝะฐ. ะ’ะพะปะฝะฐ ัะผัƒั‰ะตะฝะธั ะทะฐั…ะปะตัั‚ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะตั‘, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะธะฝัั‚ะธะฝะบั‚ะธะฒะฝะพ ะฟั€ะธะบั€ั‹ะปะฐ ั€ัƒะบะฐะผะธ ะณ**ะดัŒ. ะญั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะป ะธั… ะฟะตั€ะฒั‹ะน ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ะฑะปะธะทะพัั‚ะธ ัะพ ะดะฝั ัะฒะฐะดัŒะฑั‹, ะธ ะพั‚ ะฝะตะปะพะฒะบะพัั‚ะธ ะตั‘ ะฟะฐะปัŒั†ั‹ ะฝะตะฒะพะปัŒะฝะพ ะฟะพะดะถะฐะปะธััŒ. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฟะพัะผะพั‚ั€ะตะป ะฝะฐ ะฝะตั‘ ัะฒะตั€ั…ัƒ ะฒะฝะธะท ั ะพะทะพั€ะฝะพะน ัƒัะผะตัˆะบะพะน. ยซะ”ะฐะฒะฐะน ะฑัƒะดะตะผ ั‡ะตัั‚ะฝั‹ะผะธ, ะฒะตะดัŒ ะทะดะตััŒ ะพัะพะฑะพ ะฝะต ะฝะฐ ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะผะพั‚ั€ะตั‚ัŒยป, โ€“ ะผัะณะบะพ ะฟะพะดะดะตะป ะพะฝ ะตั‘. ะงัƒะฒัั‚ะฒัƒั ัะตะฑั ะพะดะฝะพะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะฝะพ ัƒะฝะธะถะตะฝะฝะพะน ะธ ัะปะตะณะบะฐ ั€ะฐะทะดั€ะฐะถั‘ะฝะฝะพะน, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะฐั€ะธั€ะพะฒะฐะปะฐ: ยซะž, ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ, ะฟะพัะปะต ะฒัะตะณะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฒั‹ ะฟะพะฒะธะดะฐะปะธ, ะฟะพะปะฐะณะฐัŽ, ะฒะฐั ัƒะถะต ะฝะธั‡ะตะผ ะฝะต ัƒะดะธะฒะธั‚ัŒยป. ะ•ั‘ ั„ะพั€ะผั‹ ั‚ั€ะตั‚ัŒะตะณะพ ั€ะฐะทะผะตั€ะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะธ ัะดะตั€ะถะฐะฝะฝะพ ะฟั€ะธะฒะปะตะบะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹, ั ั‚ะพะน ะพัะพะฑะพะน ั‡ัƒ**ั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะฐั ะทะฐั‚ะผะตะฒะฐะปะฐ ะฑะพะปะตะทะฝะตะฝะฝะพ ะฟะปะพัะบะพะต, ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ัƒะณะปะพะฒะฐั‚ะพะต ั‚ะตะปะพัะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต ะะฝะฝั‹. ะ’ะฟั€ะพั‡ะตะผ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะตะบั€ะฐัะฝะพ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะฑะตะท ะปัŽะฑะฒะธ ะดะฐะถะต ัะฐะผะฐั ัะพะฒะตั€ัˆะตะฝะฝะฐั ั„ะธะณัƒั€ะฐ ะผะตั€ะบะฝะตั‚ ะฟะพ ัั€ะฐะฒะฝะตะฝะธัŽ ั ะพั‡ะฐั€ะพะฒะฐะฝะธะตะผ ั‚ะพะน, ะบะพะณะพ ะดะตะนัั‚ะฒะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะปัŽะฑะธัˆัŒ. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฝะตะฒะพะทะผัƒั‚ะธะผะพ ะฟะพั‚ัะฝัƒะปัั ะบ ะฒะธัะตะฒัˆะตะผัƒ ะทะฐ ะดะฒะตั€ัŒัŽ ั…ะฐะปะฐั‚ัƒ ะธ ะฝะฐะบะธะฝัƒะป ะตะณะพ ะฝะฐ ะฝะตั‘. ะ•ะณะพ ะฑั€ะพะฒะธ ะฝะฐั…ะผัƒั€ะธะปะธััŒ ะฟั€ะธ ะตั‘ ะบะพะผะผะตะฝั‚ะฐั€ะธะธ: ยซะž ั‡ั‘ะผ ั‚ั‹ ะณะพะฒะพั€ะธัˆัŒ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ?ยป ะšะฐะบะฐั-ั‚ะพ ะผั‹ัะปัŒ ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะฐ ะตะผัƒ ะฒ ะณะพะปะพะฒัƒ, ะธ ะตะณะพ ะปะธั†ะพ ัั‚ะฐะปะพ ะตั‰ั‘ ะฑะพะปะตะต ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะผ. ยซะกะบะฐะถะธ-ะบะฐ, ั‚ั‹ ะพั‚ะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะดะพะบัƒะผะตะฝั‚ั‹ ะฝะฐ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะด ะฟะพัั€ะตะดะธ ะฝะพั‡ะธ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะดะปั ั‚ะพะณะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะทะฐะผะฐะฝะธั‚ัŒ ะผะตะฝั ััŽะดะฐ โ€“ ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ั ะทะฐัั‚ะฐะป ั‚ะตะฑั ะพะฑะฝ*ะถั‘ะฝะฝะพะน? โ€“ ะฒ ะตะณะพ ะณะพะปะพัะต ัะผะตัˆะฐะปะธััŒ ะฝะตะดะพะฒะตั€ะธะต ะธ ั€ะฐะทะดั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะต. โ€“ ะฏ ะถะต ัะบะฐะทะฐะป, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะทะฐะฒะฐะปะตะฝ ั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะพะน. ะะตัƒะถะตะปะธ ะฝัƒะถะฝะพ ะฑั‹ะปะพ ัƒัั‚ั€ะฐะธะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะฒะตััŒ ัั‚ะพั‚ ัะฟะตะบั‚ะฐะบะปัŒ?ยป ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะทะฐะดะตะป ะตะณะพ ะพะฑะฒะธะฝะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะน ั‚ะพะฝ, ะฒะฝะพะฒัŒ ั€ะฐะทะถะธะณะฐั ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถะตะฝะธะต ะผะตะถะดัƒ ะฝะธะผะธ. ะžะฝ ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ั‚ะฐะบ ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ะพ ั‚ะตั€ัะป ั‚ะตั€ะฟะตะฝะธะต ั ะฝะตะน. ะžะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฝะต ะธะท ั‚ะตั…, ะบั‚ะพ ะปะตะณะบะพะผั‹ัะปะตะฝะฝะพ ะฑั€ะพัะฐะตั‚ัั ั‚ะฐะบะธะผะธ ัะปะพะฒะฐะผะธ, ะบะฐะบ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะด ะธะปะธ ั€ะฐััั‚ะฐะฒะฐะฝะธะต. ะ’ะฟะตั€ะฒั‹ะต ะทะฐ ะดะฒะฐ ะณะพะดะฐ ะฑั€ะฐะบะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะทะฐะณะพะฒะพั€ะธะปะฐ ะพ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะต, ะฝะพ ะพะฝ, ะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ, ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะฐะปัั ั€ะฐะฒะฝะพะดัƒัˆะฝั‹ะผ ะบ ะตั‘ ะฟะตั€ะตะถะธะฒะฐะฝะธัะผ. ะžะฝ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพ ะพั‚ะผะฐั…ะฝัƒะปัั ะพั‚ ะตั‘ ั‚ั€ะตะฒะพะณ, ัะปะพะฒะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะตัƒะฒะตะปะธั‡ะธะฒะฐะปะฐ ะธะท-ะทะฐ ะฟัƒัั‚ัะบะพะฒ. ะะตัะผะพั‚ั€ั ะฝะฐ ะฟัƒะปัŒัะธั€ัƒัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ะฑะพะปัŒ ะฒ ะฝะพะณะต, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะพะฑั€ะฐะปะฐััŒ ั ัะธะปะฐะผะธ ะธ ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝะตัะปะฐ: ยซะŸะพัั‚ะฐะฒัŒั‚ะต ะผะตะฝั ะฝะฐ ะฟะพะปยป. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ, ะพะดะฝะฐะบะพ, ะฝะต ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะธะป ะฝะฐ ะตั‘ ัะปะพะฒะฐ ะฒะฝะธะผะฐะฝะธั, ั€ะฐะทะณะปัะดั‹ะฒะฐั ะตั‘ ะทะฐะฑะธะฝั‚ะพะฒะฐะฝะฝัƒัŽ ะฝะพะณัƒ. ะ•ะณะพ ะฑั€ะพะฒะธ ัะปะตะณะบะฐ ัะดะฒะธะฝัƒะปะธััŒ. ยซะงั‚ะพ ัะปัƒั‡ะธะปะพััŒ ั ั‚ะฒะพะตะน ะฝะพะณะพะน? ะญั‚ะพ ะบะฐะบะฐั-ั‚ะพ ะธะทะพั‰ั€ั‘ะฝะฝะฐั ัƒะปะพะฒะบะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะฒะตั€ะฝัƒั‚ัŒ ะผะตะฝั?ยป ะžั‚ ัั‚ะธั… ัะปะพะฒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะธะทะดะฐะปะฐ ะณะพั€ัŒะบะธะน ัะผะตัˆะพะบ. ะŸะพั…ะพะถะต, ะพะฝ ัั‡ะธั‚ะฐะป ะตั‘ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพ ะถะฐะถะดัƒั‰ะตะน ะฒะฝะธะผะฐะฝะธั, ะธ, ะฝะต ะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธะฒ ะตะณะพ, ะพะฝะฐ, ะฒะตั€ะพัั‚ะฝะพ, ะฟั€ะธะดัƒะผะฐะปะฐ ะธัั‚ะพั€ะธัŽ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะทะฐะผะฐะฝะธั‚ัŒ ะตะณะพ ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะฝะพ ะธ ั€ะฐะทั‹ะณั€ะฐั‚ัŒ ะฟะตั€ะตะด ะฝะธะผ ะดั€ะฐะผัƒ ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธั. ะก ะฑะตััั‚ั€ะฐัั‚ะฝั‹ะผ ะปะธั†ะพะผ ะพะฝะฐ ัะพะปะณะฐะปะฐ: ยซะญั‚ะพ ะบะพัะผะตั‚ะธั‡ะตัะบะฐั ะฟั€ะพั†ะตะดัƒั€ะฐ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ัƒัŽ ะฝะตะปัŒะทั ะผะพั‡ะธั‚ัŒยป. ยซะŸะพั‡ะตะผัƒ ั‚ั‹ ะฒะดั€ัƒะณ ั€ะตัˆะธะปะฐ ัะดะตะปะฐั‚ัŒ ั‚ะฐะบัƒัŽ ะฟั€ะพั†ะตะดัƒั€ัƒ?ยป โ€“ ัะฟั€ะพัะธะป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฑัƒะดะฝะธั‡ะฝั‹ะผ ั‚ะพะฝะพะผ, ะฒั‹ะฝะพัั ะตั‘ ะธะท ะฒะฐะฝะฝะพะน ะธ ะฝะต ั€ะฐะทะฒะธะฒะฐั ั‚ะตะผัƒ ะดะฐะปัŒัˆะต. ะžะฝ ะฑั‹ะป ะบั€ัƒะฟะฝั‹ะผ, ะธ ัะบะฒะพะทัŒ ั‚ะพะฝะบัƒัŽ ั€ัƒะฑะฐัˆะบัƒ ะพะฝะฐ ะพั‚ั‡ั‘ั‚ะปะธะฒะพ ะพั‰ัƒั‰ะฐะปะฐ ั‚ะตะฟะปะพ ะตะณะพ ั‚ะตะปะฐ ะธ ั€ะตะปัŒะตั„ ะณั€ัƒะดะฝั‹ั… ะผั‹ัˆั†. ะญั‚ะฐ ะฑะปะธะทะพัั‚ัŒ ัะพะทะดะฐะฒะฐะปะฐ ะผัƒั‡ะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพะต ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถะตะฝะธะต ะดะปั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹, ัƒะถะต ั€ะตัˆะธะฒัˆะตะน ะพะบะพะฝั‡ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะฟะพั€ะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ั ะฝะธะผ. ะ•ั‘ ะณะพะปะพั ะฝะตะฒะพะปัŒะฝะพ ัั‚ะฐะป ะฒั‹ัˆะต, ะฟั€ะธะพะฑั€ะตั‚ั ั€ะตะทะบะธะต ะฝะพั‚ะบะธ: ยซะž, ั ะบะฐะบะธั… ัั‚ะพ ะฟะพั€ ะฒะฐั ัั‚ะฐะปะธ ะธะฝั‚ะตั€ะตัะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ั‚ะฐะบะธะต ะผะตะปะพั‡ะธ, ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ?ยป ะ’ะฟะตั€ะฒั‹ะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ัƒัะปั‹ัˆะฐะป ะพั‚ ะฝะตั‘ ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ะตะดะบะธะน ัะฐั€ะบะฐะทะผ, ะธ ัั‚ะพ ะฟะพะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ ะตะผัƒ ัั‚ั€ะฐะฝะฝะพ ะทะฐะฑะฐะฒะฝั‹ะผ. ะกะพั…ั€ะฐะฝัั ะฝะตะฒะพะทะผัƒั‚ะธะผะพัั‚ัŒ, ะพะฝ ะพั‚ะฒะตั‚ะธะป: ยซะขั‹ ะผะพั ะถะตะฝะฐ, ะฒะฟะพะปะฝะต ะตัั‚ะตัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ั ะฑะตัะฟะพะบะพัŽััŒ ะพ ั‚ะฒะพั‘ะผ ะฑะปะฐะณะพะฟะพะปัƒั‡ะธะธยป. ยซะŸั€ะฐะฒะดะฐ? โ€“ ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะฒ ะณะพะปะพัะต ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะทะฒัƒั‡ะฐะปะธ ะผั€ะฐั‡ะฝั‹ะต ะฝะพั‚ะบะธ. โ€“ ะšะฐะถะตั‚ัั, ั‚ั‹ ะฝะธะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฟะพ-ะฝะฐัั‚ะพัั‰ะตะผัƒ ะฝะต ัั‡ะธั‚ะฐะป ะผะตะฝั ัะฒะพะตะน ะถะตะฝะพะน. ะฏ ะฑะพัŽััŒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะดะฐะถะต ะตัะปะธ ะฑั‹ ั ัƒะผะตั€ะปะฐ, ั‚ั‹ ะฑั‹ ัƒะทะฝะฐะป ะพะฑ ัั‚ะพะผ ะฝะตัะบะพั€ะพยป. ะ’ะตะดัŒ ะฒ ั‚ะพั‚ ัะฐะผั‹ะน ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฑั‹ะป ะฟะพะณะปะพั‰ั‘ะฝ ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‡ะตะน ัะพ ัะฒะพะตะน ะฟะตั€ะฒะพะน ะปัŽะฑะพะฒัŒัŽ, ัะปะธัˆะบะพะผ ัƒะฒะปะตั‡ั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะน, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ัƒัะปั‹ัˆะฐั‚ัŒ ะตั‘ ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะฝั‹ะต ะฟั€ะธะทั‹ะฒั‹ ะพ ะฟะพะผะพั‰ะธ. ะ—ะฐัั‚ะธะณะฝัƒั‚ั‹ะน ะฒั€ะฐัะฟะปะพั… ะตั‘ ะพะฑะฒะธะฝะตะฝะธะตะผ, ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐ ัƒะดะธะฒะปั‘ะฝะฝะพ ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะป ะณะปะฐะทะฐ, ะฐ ะทะฐั‚ะตะผ ะฝะตะดะพะฒะตั€ั‡ะธะฒะพ ัƒัะผะตั…ะฝัƒะปัั: ยซะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ะพั‚ะบัƒะดะฐ ะฒะดั€ัƒะณ ั‚ะฐะบะฐั ะฒัะฟั‹ัˆะบะฐ ะณะฝะตะฒะฐ? ะขะพะปัŒะบะพ ะธะท-ะทะฐ ั‚ะพะณะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ั ะฑั‹ะป ะทะฐะฝัั‚ ัะตะณะพะดะฝั ะดะฝั‘ะผ ะธ ะฟั€ะพะฟัƒัั‚ะธะป ั‚ะฒะพะน ะทะฒะพะฝะพะบ? ะœะพะถะตั‚ ะฑั‹ั‚ัŒ, ั ัะปะธัˆะบะพะผ ะผะฝะพะณะพะต ั‚ะตะฑะต ะฟะพะทะฒะพะปัะป ะฒ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะตะต ะฒั€ะตะผั, ะธ ัั‚ะพ ัะดะตะปะฐะปะพ ั‚ะตะฑั ั‡ะตั€ะตัั‡ัƒั€ ัะฐะผะพะฝะฐะดะตัะฝะฝะพะน?ยป ะ”ะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ะทะฐัั‚ั‹ะปะฐ, ะฟะพั‚ั€ััั‘ะฝะฝะฐั. ะžะฝ ะพะฑะฒะธะฝัะตั‚ ะตั‘ ะฒ ัะฐะผะพะฝะฐะดะตัะฝะฝะพัั‚ะธ? ะžะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฝัะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะธั… ะฑั€ะฐะบ ะฒัะตะณะดะฐ ะฑั‹ะป ะพะดะฝะพัั‚ะพั€ะพะฝะฝะธะผ. ะ’ ะตะณะพ ะณะปะฐะทะฐั… ะพะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฝะต ะฑะพะปะตะต ั‡ะตะผ ะดะตะปะพะฒั‹ะผ ะฟะฐั€ั‚ะฝั‘ั€ะพะผ, ะถะตะฝั‰ะธะฝะพะน, ะฟั€ะพะผะตะฝัะฒัˆะตะน ัะฒะพัŽ ัะฒะพะฑะพะดัƒ ะฝะฐ ั„ะธะฝะฐะฝัะพะฒัƒัŽ ัั‚ะฐะฑะธะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัŒ. ะ˜ั… ัะพัŽะท ะดะพะปะถะตะฝ ะฑั‹ะป ัั‚ะฐั‚ัŒ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ั‹ะผ ะพะฑะผะตะฝะพะผ ัƒะดะพะฑัั‚ะฒะฐะผะธ, ะฝะพ ะพะฝะฐ, ะบะฐะบ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝัั ะดัƒั€ะฐ, ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะพ ะฒ ะฝะตะณะพ ะฒะปัŽะฑะธะปะฐััŒ. ะ’ ะบะพะฒะฐั€ะฝั‹ั… ะธะณั€ะฐั… ะปัŽะฑะฒะธ ั‚ะพั‚, ะบั‚ะพ ะฒะปัŽะฑะปัะตั‚ัั ะฟะตั€ะฒั‹ะผ, ะฝะตะธะทะฑะตะถะฝะพ ะพะบะฐะทั‹ะฒะฐะตั‚ัั ะฒ ะฟั€ะพะธะณั€ั‹ัˆะฝะพะผ ะฟะพะปะพะถะตะฝะธะธ. ะŸั€ะตะฝะตะฑั€ะตะถะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะฐั ั€ะตะฐะบั†ะธั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะพัˆะตะปะพะผะธะปะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ, ะฟะพัะบะพะปัŒะบัƒ ะพะฝ ะพั‚ะผะฐั…ะฝัƒะปัั ะพั‚ ะตั‘ ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒ ะบะฐะบ ะพั‚ ะฟัƒัั‚ัะบะฐ, ะฐ ะฒ ะณั€ัƒะดะธ ะทะฐั‚ัะฝัƒะปัั ั‚ัƒะณะพะน ัƒะทะตะป ัƒะดัƒัˆัŒั. ยซะฏ ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐ ะฝะตะผะตะดะปะตะฝะฝะพ ะฟะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะผะตะฝั ะฝะฐ ะทะตะผะปัŽ!ยป โ€“ ะฒะพัะบะปะธะบะฝัƒะปะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ั€ะตะทะบะพ ะพั‚ะฒะพั€ะฐั‡ะธะฒะฐั ะณะพะปะพะฒัƒ, ะตั‘ ะณะพะปะพั ะทะฒะตะฝะตะป ะพั‚ ะฝะตั‚ะตั€ะฟะตะฝะธั. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฟั€ะพะผะพะปั‡ะฐะป, ะฑะตะท ั‚ั€ัƒะดะฐ ะดะพะฝั‘ั ะตั‘ ะดะพ ะบั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ะธ ะธ ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ั€ะฐะทะถะฐะป ั€ัƒะบะธ. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะพั‰ัƒั‚ะธะปะฐ ั€ั‹ะฒะพะบ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฟะพั€ะฐ ะธัั‡ะตะทะปะฐ, ะตั‘ ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะฟั€ะพะฟัƒัั‚ะธะปะพ ัƒะดะฐั€, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะธะฝัั‚ะธะฝะบั‚ะธะฒะฝะพ ัƒั†ะตะฟะธะปะฐััŒ ะทะฐ ะฝะตะณะพ. ะ˜ั… ั‚*ะปะฐ ัั‚ะพะปะบะฝัƒะปะธััŒ ะฝะฐ ะบั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ะธ, ะตั‘ ั…ะฐะปะฐั‚ ะพะฟะฐัะฝะพ ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะปัั, ะณั€ะพะทั ะฟะพะปะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ั€ะฐะทะพะนั‚ะธััŒ ะพั‚ ะผะฐะปะตะนัˆะตะณะพ ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธั. ะžะฟะธั€ะฐัััŒ ะฝะฐ ะปะพะบะพั‚ัŒ, ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ัะผะพั‚ั€ะตะป ะฝะฐ ะฝะตั‘ ัะฒะตั€ั…ัƒ ะฒะฝะธะท, ะตะณะพ ะณัƒะฑั‹ ะธะทะพะณะฝัƒะปะธััŒ ะฒ ะปัƒะบะฐะฒะพะน, ะดั€ะฐะทะฝัั‰ะตะน ัƒัะผะตัˆะบะต: ยซะ ะฐะทะฒะต ะฝะต ั‚ั‹ ั…ะพั‚ะตะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ั‚ะตะฑั ะพั‚ะฟัƒัั‚ะธะปะธ? ะขะฐะบ ะฟะพั‡ะตะผัƒ ะถะต ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ั†ะตะฟะปัะตัˆัŒัั ะทะฐ ะผะตะฝั?ยป ะ•ะณะพ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ, ะณะปัƒะฑะพะบะธะต ะธ ัะฒะตั€ะบะฐัŽั‰ะธะต, ะบะฐะบ ะฟะพะปัƒะฝะพั‡ะฝะพะต ะพะทะตั€ะพ, ัƒัั‹ะฟะฐะฝะฝะพะต ะทะฒั‘ะทะดะฐะผะธ, ะทะฐะฒะพั€ะพะถะธะปะธ ะตั‘. ะ’ ัั‚ะธั… ะฝะตะฑะตัะฝั‹ั… ะณะปัƒะฑะธะฝะฐั… ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัƒะฒะธะดะตะปะฐ ัะฒะพั‘ ะพั‚ั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะต. ะ’ ั‚ะฐะบะธะต ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ั‹ ะตะน ะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะพะฝ ะธัะฟั‹ั‚ั‹ะฒะฐะตั‚ ะบ ะฝะตะน ะฝะฐัั‚ะพัั‰ะธะต ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะฐ. ะฃะฒั‹, ะตะณะพ ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะฐะปะพััŒ ะบั€ะตะฟะพัั‚ัŒัŽ, ะฟั€ะตะดะฝะฐะทะฝะฐั‡ะตะฝะฝะพะน ะดะปั ะะฝะฝั‹, ะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะฐะปะธััŒ ะปะธัˆัŒ ะฟัƒัั‚ั‹ะต ั„ะฐะฝั‚ะฐะทะธะธ. ยซะกะบัƒั‡ะฝะพ!ยป โ€“ ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝะตัะปะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ะฑะตะทะพ ะฒััะบะพะณะพ ัะฝั‚ัƒะทะธะฐะทะผะฐ ะธ ะฟะพะฟั‹ั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฟะพะดะฝัั‚ัŒัั, ะฝะพ ะตั‘ ั€ัƒะบะฐ ัะปัƒั‡ะฐะนะฝะพ ะบะพัะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ั‡ะตะณะพ-ั‚ะพ ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพะณะพ. ยซะะต ะดะฒะธะณะฐะนัั, ะธะฝะฐั‡ะต ั ะฝะต ั€ัƒั‡ะฐัŽััŒ ะทะฐ ะฟะพัะปะตะดัั‚ะฒะธัยป, โ€“ ะฟั€ะตะดัƒะฟั€ะตะดะธะป ะพะฝ ะฝะธะทะบะธะผ, ั…ั€ะธะฟะปั‹ะผ ะณะพะปะพัะพะผ. ะะฐั…ะผัƒั€ะธะฒัˆะธััŒ, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะผั‹ัะปะตะฝะฝะพ ะฒั‹ั€ัƒะณะฐะปะฐััŒ, ัƒัะปั‹ัˆะฐะฒ ัั‚ะธ ัะปะพะฒะฐ. ะญั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะป ะฝะตะพัะฟะพั€ะธะผั‹ะน ั„ะฐะบั‚. ะŸะตั€ะฒะพะฑั‹ั‚ะฝั‹ะต ะธะฝัั‚ะธะฝะบั‚ั‹ ัƒะฟั€ะฐะฒะปัะปะธ ะดะตะนัั‚ะฒะธัะผะธ ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝ. ะžั‚ััƒั‚ัั‚ะฒะธะต ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒ ะฝะต ะพั‚ะผะตะฝัะปะพ ะธั… ะฑะฐะทะพะฒั‹ั… ะถะตะป*ะฝะธะน. ะ˜ ะฒัั‘ ะถะต ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะพัะผะตะปะธะฒะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฟั€ะพะฒะพั†ะธั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะžั‚ะฒะตั€ะฝัƒะฒ ะปะธั†ะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ะทะฐะผะตั€ะปะฐ, ะฝะต ัˆะตะฒะตะปัััŒ. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒัƒั ั€ะฐะทะดั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะต, ะฟะฐั€ะธั€ะพะฒะฐะปะฐ: ยซะ ะฐะทะฒะต ั‚ั‹ ะฝะต ะณะพะฒะพั€ะธะป, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะทะดะตััŒ ะฝะต ะฝะฐ ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะผะพั‚ั€ะตั‚ัŒ? ะงั‚ะพ ะทะฐ ั€ะตะฐะบั†ะธั ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ, ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ? ะะตัƒะถะตะปะธ ะฒะฐั ะฝะฐัั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะปะตะณะบะพ ะฒะฟะตั‡ะฐั‚ะปะธั‚ัŒ?ยป ะะต ัƒัะฟะตะปะธ ัั‚ะธ ัะปะพะฒะฐ ัะพั€ะฒะฐั‚ัŒัั ั ะตั‘ ะณัƒะฑ, ะบะฐะบ ะพะฝะฐ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะปะฐ ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝั‹ะต ะฟะพัะปะตะดัั‚ะฒะธั ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะพัั‚ั€ะพะณะพ ัะทั‹ะบะฐ. ะ’ะพะปะฝะฐ ัะพะถะฐะปะตะฝะธั ะฝะฐะบั€ั‹ะปะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ, ะฝะพ ะฒะผะตัั‚ะพ ะณะฝะตะฒะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ัƒัะผะตั…ะฝัƒะปัั: ยซะขั‹ ะฒัั‘-ั‚ะฐะบะธ ะผะพั ะถะตะฝะฐ. ะ ะฐะท ัƒะถ ัั‚ะพะณะพ ะฝะต ะธะทะผะตะฝะธั‚ัŒ, ะผะพะถะฝะพ ะธ ัะผะธั€ะธั‚ัŒัั. ะš ั‚ะพะผัƒ ะถะต ะฟั€ะพัˆะปะพ ัƒะถะต ะฝะตะผะฐะปะพ ะปะตั‚ ั ั‚ะตั… ะฟะพั€, ะบะฐะบ ะผั‹ ัั‚ะฐะปะธ ะผัƒะถะตะผ ะธ ะถะตะฝะพะน โ€“ ะฑั‹ะปะพ ะฑั‹ ัะพะฒัะตะผ ะฝะตะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปัŒะฝะพ ะฟะพะปะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ั‚ะตะฑั ะธะณะฝะพั€ะธั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒยป. ะ“ะปะฐะฒะฐ 4 ะขั‹ ัะพัˆะปะฐ ั ัƒะผะฐ? ะžะฝ ะพะฑั…ะฒะฐั‚ะธะป ะตั‘ ั‚ะพะฝะบัƒัŽ ั‚ะฐะปะธัŽ, ะฟั€ะธั‚ัะณะธะฒะฐั ะบ ัะตะฑะต ะฝะตะถะฝะพ, ะฝะพ ัƒะฒะตั€ะตะฝะฝะพ. ะขะบะฐะฝัŒ ะบะพัั‚ัŽะผะฐ ะตะดะฒะฐ ะบะพัะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ั‰ะตะบะธ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹, ะฒั‹ัะฒะพะฑะพะถะดะฐั ัะผะตััŒ ะฐั€ะพะผะฐั‚ะพะฒ: ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผั‹ะน ะดั€ะตะฒะตัะฝั‹ะน ะทะฐะฟะฐั…, ะฟะตั€ะตะฟะปะตั‚ะฐัŽั‰ะธะนัั ั ะฝะตะพะถะธะดะฐะฝะฝะพะน ั†ะธั‚ั€ัƒัะพะฒะพะน ะฝะพั‚ะบะพะน ะปะธะผะพะฝะฐ. ะญั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะป ะฑะตะทะพัˆะธะฑะพั‡ะฝะพ ัƒะทะฝะฐะฒะฐะตะผั‹ะน ะฐั€ะพะผะฐั‚ Jo Malone ยซะ“ะพะปัƒะฑะฐั ะฐะณะฐะฒะฐ ะธ ะบะฐะบะฐะพยป โ€“ ั„ะธั€ะผะตะฝะฝั‹ะน ะฟะฐั€ั„ัŽะผ ะะฝะฝั‹. ะžั‚ ัั‚ะพะณะพ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐะฝะธั ะบ ะณะพั€ะปัƒ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะฟะพะดัั‚ัƒะฟะธะปะฐ ั‚ะพัˆะฝะพั‚ะฐ. ะ–ะตะปัƒะดะพะบ ัะบั€ัƒั‚ะธะปะพ, ะธ ะพะฝะฐ ั€ะตะทะบะธะผ ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธะตะผ ะพั‚ั‚ะพะปะบะฝัƒะปะฐ ะตะณะพ, ะฟั€ะธะฟะพะดะฝะธะผะฐัััŒ ั ััƒั…ะธะผ ั€ะฒะพั‚ะฝั‹ะผ ะฟะพะทั‹ะฒะพะผ. ยซะฃั„...ยป ะ•ั‘ ะถะตะปัƒะดะพะบ ะฑั‹ะป ะฟัƒัั‚ ะฒะตััŒ ะดะตะฝัŒ, ะธ ะตะน ะฝะตั‡ะตะผ ะฑั‹ะปะพ ะดะฐะถะต ัั€ั‹ะณะฝัƒั‚ัŒ. ะ–*ะปะฐะฝะธ ะฒะพ ะฒะทะณะปัะดะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ัƒะณะฐัะปะพ, ัะผะตะฝะธะฒัˆะธััŒ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝั‹ะผ, ะพั‚ัั‚ั€ะฐะฝั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะผ ะฒั‹ั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะตะผ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝ ัะปะตะณะบะฐ ะพั‚ะพะดะฒะธะฝัƒะปัั. ะ—ะฐะผะตั‚ะธะฒ ะฝะตะฟะพะดะดะตะปัŒะฝะพะต ะฝะตะดะพะผะพะณะฐะฝะธะต ะธ ะฟะพะบั€ะฐัะฝะตะฒัˆะธะต ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹, ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะธัั‚ะพะปะบะพะฒะฐะป ะตั‘ ั€ะตะฐะบั†ะธัŽ ะบะฐะบ ะพั‚ะบั€ะพะฒะตะฝะฝะพะต ะพั‚ะฒั€ะฐั‰ะตะฝะธะต ะบ ะธั… ะฑะปะธะทะพัั‚ะธ. ะžะฝ ะฟะพะผะตะดะปะธะป, ะธ ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝะพ ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝั‘ั: ยซะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ั‚ะฐะบะฐั ั€ะตะฐะบั†ะธั ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะฝะฐ ะผะตะฝั, ะธะปะธ ั‚ั‹ ั‚ะฐะบ ั€ะตะฐะณะธั€ัƒะตัˆัŒ ะฝะฐ ะฒัะตั… ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝ?ยป ะ’ะพะทะดัƒั… ะฒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐั‚ะต ะทะฐะปะตะดะตะฝะตะป, ัะณัƒัั‚ะธะฒัˆะธััŒ ะพั‚ ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถะตะฝะธั. ะ”ะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ัะณะปะพั‚ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะบะพะผ ะฒ ะณะพั€ะปะต, ะตั‘ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ั€ะฐััˆะธั€ะธะปะธััŒ ะพั‚ ัˆะพะบะฐ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะฐ ัƒัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐััŒ ะฝะฐ ะฝะตะณะพ. ะก ั‚ะตั… ะฟะพั€ ะบะฐะบ ะพะฝะธ ะฟะพะถะตะฝะธะปะธััŒ, ะพะฝะฐ ั€ะฐะทะพั€ะฒะฐะปะฐ ะพั‚ะฝะพัˆะตะฝะธั ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ัะพ ะฒัะตะผะธ ะดั€ัƒะทัŒัะผะธ-ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐะผะธ, ะฐ ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฝะตะฑั€ะตะถะฝะพ ะฑั€ะพัะฐะป ะตะน ะฒ ะปะธั†ะพ ัะปะพะฒะฐ ะพัั‚ั€ะตะต ะฑะธั‚ะพะณะพ ัั‚ะตะบะปะฐ. ะ“ะพะดั‹ ะปัŽะฑะฒะธ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะต ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะปะพะถะธะปะฐ ะฒ ะธั… ะพั‚ะฝะพัˆะตะฝะธั, ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ะบะฐะทะฐะปะธััŒ ะฐะฑัะพะปัŽั‚ะฝะพ ะฝะฐะฟั€ะฐัะฝั‹ะผะธ. ะ–ะฐั€ ะฒะพะทะผัƒั‰ะตะฝะธั ะฟะพะฟะพะปะท ะฟะพ ัˆะตะต, ะพะบั€ะฐัะธะฒ ั‰ั‘ะบะธ ัั€ะบะธะผ ะฑะฐะณั€ัะฝั†ะตะผ. ะะต ั€ะฐะทะดัƒะผั‹ะฒะฐั, ะพะฝะฐ ะฒัะบะธะฝัƒะปะฐ ั€ัƒะบัƒ ะธ ะฒะปะตะฟะธะปะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะทะฒะพะฝะบัƒัŽ ะฟ**ั‘ั‡ะธะฝัƒ. ะ’ัะต ะตั‘ ะฟะพะดะฐะฒะปะตะฝะฝั‹ะต ะพะฑะธะดั‹ ะทะฐ ะดะตะฝัŒ ะฒั‹ั€ะฒะฐะปะธััŒ ะฒ ัั‚ะพะผ ัั‚ั€ะตะผะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพะผ ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธะธ. ะฅะฐะปะฐั‚, ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะฒัˆะธะนัั ะฒ ะฟั‹ะปัƒ ะผะพะผะตะฝั‚ะฐ, ัะพัะบะพะปัŒะทะฝัƒะป ั ะตั‘ ะฟะปะตั‡. ะะต ะพะฑั€ะฐั‰ะฐั ะฒะฝะธะผะฐะฝะธั ะฝะฐ ัะผัƒั‰ะตะฝะธะต, ะพะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ะพ ัะพะฑั€ะฐะปะฐ ั‚ะบะฐะฝัŒ ะธ ะทะฐะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะปะฐ ะตั‘ ะฝะฐ ัะตะฑะต ั€ะตะทะบะธะผะธ, ั€ะตัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ะผะธ ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธัะผะธ. ะžั‚ ะฟะพั‰ั‘ั‡ะธะฝั‹ ะฝะฐ ั‰ะตะบะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะพัั‚ะฐะปัั ะปั‘ะณะบะธะน ะฐะปั‹ะน ัะปะตะด ะฒ ะฒะธะดะต ะพั‚ะฟะตั‡ะฐั‚ะบะฐ ะตั‘ ะณะฝะตะฒะฐ. ะ•ะณะพ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ, ั€ะฐััˆะธั€ะตะฝะฝั‹ะต ะพั‚ ะธะทัƒะผะปะตะฝะธั, ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‚ะธะปะธััŒ ั ะตั‘ ะฒะทะณะปัะดะพะผ. ยซะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ, ั‚ั‹ ะฒ ัะฒะพั‘ะผ ัƒะผะต?ยป ะกะพัˆะปะฐ ั ัƒะผะฐ? ะ”ะฐ, ะพะฝะฐ ัะฒะฝะพ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฑะตะทัƒะผะฝะฐ, ั€ะฐะท ะฒะปัŽะฑะธะปะฐััŒ ะฒ ะฝะตะณะพ ั ัะฐะผะพะณะพ ะฝะฐั‡ะฐะปะฐ. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะบะธะฟะตะปะฐ ะพั‚ ัั€ะพัั‚ะธ, ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะบะพะปะพั‚ะธะปะพััŒ ะฒ ะณั€ัƒะดะธ. ะ’ะดั€ัƒะณ ั€ะตะทะบะพะต ะถัƒะถะถะฐะฝะธะต ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะฐ ัั‚ะพะปะต ะฟั€ะพั€ะตะทะฐะปะพ ะฝะฐั€ะฐัั‚ะฐัŽั‰ะตะต ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถะตะฝะธะต, ะตะณะพ ะฒะธะฑั€ะฐั†ะธั ะฟั€ะธะฝะตัะปะฐ ะบั€ะฐั‚ะบัƒัŽ ะฟะตั€ะตะดั‹ัˆะบัƒ ะฒ ะธั… ะฟั€ะพั‚ะธะฒะพัั‚ะพัะฝะธะธ. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะผะตะปัŒะบะพะผ ะฒะทะณะปัะฝัƒะป ะฝะฐ ัะพะพะฑั‰ะตะฝะธะต, ั ั‰ะตะปั‡ะบะพะผ ะฒั‹ะบะปัŽั‡ะธะป ั‚ะตะปะตั„ะพะฝ ะธ ะฝะฐะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปัั ะบ ะดะฒะตั€ะธ, ะตะณะพ ัะฟะธะฝะฐ ะฑั‹ะปะฐ ะฝะฐะฟั€ัะถะตะฝะฐ. ะ•ั‘ ะณะพะปะพั, ั‚ะฒั‘ั€ะดั‹ะน ะธ ะฝะตะฟั€ะตะบะปะพะฝะฝั‹ะน, ะฟะพะปะตั‚ะตะป ะตะผัƒ ะฒัะปะตะด: ยซะœั‹ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะธะผัั! ะŸะพะดะฟะธัˆะธ ะฑัƒะผะฐะณะธ, ะฟั€ะตะถะดะต ั‡ะตะผ ะฒั‹ะนะดะตัˆัŒ ะทะฐ ะดะฒะตั€ัŒ!ยป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฝะฐ ะผะณะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธะต ะทะฐะผะตั€ ะธ ั€ะตะทะบะพ ะฑั€ะพัะธะป: ยซะฃ ะผะตะฝั ะตัั‚ัŒ ะดะตะปะฐ. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะฒะตั€ะฝัƒััŒ, ัะดะตะปะฐัŽ ั‡ั‚ะพ ะทะฐั…ะพั‡ะตัˆัŒยป. ะก ัั‚ะธะผะธ ัะปะพะฒะฐะผะธ ะพะฝ ั ัะธะปะพะน ะทะฐั…ะปะพะฟะฝัƒะป ะดะฒะตั€ัŒ. ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะพะฒะพะดะธะปะฐ ะฒะทะณะปัะดะพะผ ะตะณะพ ะฝะตะฟะพะบะพะปะตะฑะธะผัƒัŽ ั„ะธะณัƒั€ัƒ, ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒัƒั, ะบะฐะบ ะณะฝะตั‚ัƒั‰ะฐั ั‚ัะถะตัั‚ัŒ ะฒะฝะพะฒัŒ ัะดะฐะฒะปะธะฒะฐะตั‚ ะณั€ัƒะดัŒ. ะ˜ะณะฝะพั€ะธั€ัƒั ะพัั‚ั€ัƒัŽ ะฑะพะปัŒ ะฒ ะฝะพะณะต, ะพะฝะฐ ั€ะตัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะฟะพั…ั€ะพะผะฐะปะฐ ะบ ะฟะปะฐะฝัˆะตั‚ัƒ. ะ”ั€ะพะถะฐั‰ะธะผะธ ะฟะฐะปัŒั†ะฐะผะธ ะพะฝะฐ ั‚ะพั€ะพะฟะปะธะฒะพ ะพั‚ะบั€ั‹ะปะฐ ัั‚ั€ะฐะฝะธั†ัƒ ะะฝะฝั‹ ะฒ ะ˜ะฝัั‚ะฐะณั€ะฐะผะต. ะะฝะฝะฐ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ั‡ั‚ะพ ะพะฟัƒะฑะปะธะบะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะฝะพะฒั‹ะน ะฟะพัั‚. ะะฐ ั„ะพั‚ะพะณั€ะฐั„ะธะธ ะพะฝะฐ ะปะตะถะฐะปะฐ ั ะฟะปะฐัั‚ั‹ั€ะตะผ ะพั‚ ั‚ะตะผะฟะตั€ะฐั‚ัƒั€ั‹ ะฝะฐ ะปะฑัƒ, ะฒัั‘ ะตั‰ั‘ ัƒะบัƒั‚ะฐะฝะฝะฐั ะฒ ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผั‹ะน ะฟะธะดะถะฐะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะŸะพะดะฟะธััŒ ะณะปะฐัะธะปะฐ: ยซะ’ะพ ะฒั€ะตะผั ะฑะพะปะตะทะฝะธ ัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะปัŽััŒ ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ะฟั€ะธะปะธะฟั‡ะธะฒะพะน. ะ–ะฐะปัŒ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ั€ัะดะพะผ ะฝะธะบะพะณะพ ะฝะตั‚. ะ”ะตั€ะถะธั‚ะตััŒ ะฒ ั‚ะตะฟะปะต ะธ ะฑะตั€ะตะณะธั‚ะต ัะตะฑั, ะฒัะต!ยป ะกะพะฒะฟะฐะดะตะฝะธะต ะฟะพ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะธ ัั‚ะธั… ัะพะฑั‹ั‚ะธะน ะฝะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะปัะปะพ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะต ะฟะพั‡ั‚ะธ ะฝะธะบะฐะบะธั… ัะพะผะฝะตะฝะธะน ะฒ ั‚ะพะผ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฟะพะผั‡ะฐะปัั ัƒั…ะฐะถะธะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะทะฐ ะะฝะฝะพะน. ะ˜ะฝั‚ัƒะธั†ะธั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะบั€ะธั‡ะฐะปะฐ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ัั‚ะพ ะฝะต ัะปัƒั‡ะฐะนะฝะพัั‚ัŒ; ะะฝะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะผะตั€ะตะฝะฝะพ ะฟั‹ั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะทะฐั†ะตะฟะธั‚ัŒ ะทะฐ ะถะธะฒะพะต ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะŸะพั…ะพะถะต, ะตั‘ ั‚ะฐะบั‚ะธะบะฐ ัั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะฐะปะฐ. ะ”ะฐะถะต ะฟั€ัะผะฐั ัƒะณั€ะพะทะฐ ั€ะฐะทะฒะพะดะฐ ะพั‚ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹ ะฝะต ัะผะพะณะปะฐ ะฟะตั€ะตะฒะตัะธั‚ัŒ ั‚ะตะฐั‚ั€ะฐะปัŒะฝัƒัŽ ะดะตะผะพะฝัั‚ั€ะฐั†ะธัŽ ะฑะตะทะทะฐั‰ะธั‚ะฝะพัั‚ะธ ะะฝะฝั‹. ะšะธะฟั ะพั‚ ัั€ะพัั‚ะธ, ะดะตะฒัƒัˆะบะฐ ะทะฐั‚ั€ััะปะฐััŒ, ะบะฐะบ ะปะธัั‚ ะฝะฐ ะฒะตั‚ั€ัƒ. ะกั‚ะธัะฝัƒะฒ ะทัƒะฑั‹, ะพะฝะฐ ั€ะตะทะบะพ ัะพั€ะฒะฐะปะฐ ะฟะพะปะธัั‚ะธะปะตะฝะพะฒัƒัŽ ะฟะปั‘ะฝะบัƒ ั ะฟะพัั‚ั€ะฐะดะฐะฒัˆะตะน ะฝะพะณะธ. ะŸะพัะปะต ะดะพะปะณะพะณะพ ะฟั€ะตะฑั‹ะฒะฐะฝะธั ะฒ ะฒะฐะฝะฝะต ะพัั‚ะฐะฒัˆะฐััั ะฒะปะฐะณะฐ ะฒะฟะธั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฒ ะบะพะถัƒ, ะฒะพัะฟะฐะปะธะฒ ั€ะฐะฝัƒ ะดะพ ัั€ะบะพ-ะบั€ะฐัะฝะพะณะพ ั†ะฒะตั‚ะฐ ะธ ะฑะพะปะตะทะฝะตะฝะฝะพะน ะฟั€ะธะฟัƒั…ะปะพัั‚ะธ. ะžะฝะฐ ั‚ะพะถะต ัƒะผะตะปะฐ ะฑั‹ั‚ัŒ ัะปะฐะฑะพะน. ะ”ะฐะถะต ะฒ ัะฐะผั‹ะต ั‚ัะถั‘ะปั‹ะต ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะฐ ะฒ ะพะบั€ัƒะณะต ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะทะฒะพะปัะปะฐ ัะตะฑะต ัƒัะทะฒะธะผะพัั‚ัŒ, ั‚ะธั…ะพ ะฒัั…ะปะธะฟั‹ะฒะฐั ะฒ ัƒั‚ะตัˆะฐัŽั‰ะธั… ะพะฑัŠัั‚ะธัั… ะฑะฐะฑัƒัˆะบะธ, ะพัะพะฑะตะฝะฝะพ ั‚ะพะณะดะฐ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฑะพะถะณะปะฐััŒ ะบะธะฟัั‰ะธะผ ั‡ะฐะนะฝะธะบะพะผ. ะะพ ะดะปั ั‚ะฐะบะพะน ัะปะฐะฑะพัั‚ะธ ะฑั‹ะปะพ ัะฒะพั‘ ะฒั€ะตะผั ะธ ะผะตัั‚ะพ, ะธ ัะตะนั‡ะฐั ะฑั‹ะป ะฝะต ั‚ะพั‚ ัะปัƒั‡ะฐะน. ะ–ะตัั‚ะพะบะฐั ั€ะตะฐะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ัƒั…ะพะดะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะทะฐัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝัƒ ะพัะพะทะฝะฐั‚ัŒ ะฝะตะพะฑั…ะพะดะธะผะพัั‚ัŒ ะฟะพะปะฐะณะฐั‚ัŒัั ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะฝะฐ ัะตะฑั. ะŸั€ะธะบัƒัะธะฒ ะณัƒะฑัƒ, ะพะฝะฐ ัƒะฒะตั€ะตะฝะฝั‹ะผะธ ะดะฒะธะถะตะฝะธัะผะธ ะพะฑั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะฐะปะฐ ะฟัƒะปัŒัะธั€ัƒัŽั‰ัƒัŽ ั€ะฐะฝัƒ, ะฐ ะทะฐั‚ะตะผ ั‚ั‰ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ะฟะตั€ะตะฑะธะฝั‚ะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะตั‘. ะก ะฝะพะฒะพะน ั€ะตัˆะธะผะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะพะดะฝัะปะฐััŒ ะธ ะฒั‹ะดะฒะธะฝัƒะปะฐ ั‡ั‘ั€ะฝั‹ะน ั‡ะตะผะพะดะฐะฝ ะธะท ะดะฐะปัŒะฝะตะณะพ ัƒะณะปะฐ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ะพั€ะฝะพะน ะณะฐั€ะดะตั€ะพะฑะฝะพะน โ€“ ั‚ะพั‚ ัะฐะผั‹ะน, ั ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะผ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะพัˆะปะฐ ะฒ ัั‚ะพั‚ ะดะพะผ ะฟะพะปะฝะพะน ะฝะฐะดะตะถะด ะฝะตะฒะตัั‚ะพะน. ะ—ะฐั‚ะตะผ ะพะฝะฐ ะฒะทัะปะฐ ะบะพะผะฟะปะตะบั‚ ัะฒะตะถะตะน ะพะดะตะถะดั‹ ะธ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะฑะฐะฝะบะพะฒัะบัƒัŽ ะบะฐั€ั‚ัƒ ะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธะบั€ะพะฒะฐั‚ะฝะพะน ั‚ัƒะผะฑะพั‡ะบะต. ะะฐ ัั‚ัƒ ะบะฐั€ั‚ัƒ ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะตั€ะตะฒะตะปะฐ ะฒัะต ะดะพ ะบะพะฟะตะนะบะธ ัะฒะพะธ ะทะฐั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะฐะฝะฝั‹ะต ะทะฐ ะณะพะด ะดะตะฝัŒะณะธ, ะพะบะพะฝั‡ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ั€ะฐะทั€ั‹ะฒะฐั ั„ะธะฝะฐะฝัะพะฒั‹ะต ัะฒัะทะธ ั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะพะผ ะทะฐ ะฟะพัะปะตะดะฝะธะต ะดะฒะฐ ะณะพะดะฐ ะธ ะฒั‹ั‡ั‘ั€ะบะธะฒะฐั ะตะณะพ ะธะท ัะฒะพะตะน ะถะธะทะฝะธ ะฝะฐะฒัะตะณะดะฐ. ะ’ะพะปะพั‡ะฐ ะทะฐ ัะพะฑะพะน ั‚ัะถั‘ะปั‹ะน ั‡ะตะผะพะดะฐะฝ, ะพะฝะฐ ั ั‚ั€ัƒะดะพะผ ะฒั‹ะฑั€ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะธะท ั€ะพัะบะพัˆะฝะพะน ะฒะธะปะปั‹. ะŸั€ะพั…ะพะดั ั‡ะตั€ะตะท ะฒะพั€ะพั‚ะฐ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฟะปะพั‚ะฝะตะต ะทะฐะบัƒั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฒ ะฑะตะนัะฑะพะปัŒะฝัƒัŽ ะบัƒั€ั‚ะบัƒ, ะตั‘ ะพะดะธะฝะพะบะธะน ัะธะปัƒัั‚ ั€ะฐัั‚ะฒะพั€ัะปัั ะฒ ะพะบัƒั‚ะฐะฒัˆะตะน ั‚ะตะผะฝะพั‚ะต. ะะพั‡ะฝะพะน ะฒะพะทะดัƒั… ั€ะฐะฝะฝะตะน ะฒะตัะฝั‹ ะฑั‹ะป ะฟั€ะพะฝะธะทั‹ะฒะฐัŽั‰ะต ั…ะพะปะพะดะฝั‹ะผ, ะฒ ะฝั‘ะผ ะฝะต ะพัั‚ะฐะปะพััŒ ะธ ัะปะตะดะฐ ั‚ะตะฟะปะฐ, ะฝะพ ะดะฐะถะต ัั‚ะพั‚ ั…ะพะปะพะด ะบะฐะทะฐะปัั ัะปะฐะฑั‹ะผ ะฟะพ ัั€ะฐะฒะฝะตะฝะธัŽ ัะพ ะปัŒะดะพะผ, ัะบะพะฒะฐะฒัˆะธะผ ั€ะฐะทะฑะธั‚ะพะต ัะตั€ะดั†ะต ะšะฐั€ะธะฝั‹. ะžะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะฐ ััŽะดะฐ ั ั‡ะตะผะพะดะฐะฝะพะผ ะธ ัะตั€ะดั†ะตะผ, ะฟะพะปะฝั‹ะผ ะฝะฐะดะตะถะด, ะฐ ั‚ะตะฟะตั€ัŒ ัƒั…ะพะดะธะปะฐ ั ั€ะฐะทะฑะธั‚ั‹ะผะธ ะผะตั‡ั‚ะฐะผะธ, ัะพะฒะตั€ัˆะตะฝะฝะพ ะพะดะฝะฐ. ะ“ะพั€ัŒะบะฐั ัƒัะผะตัˆะบะฐ ัะบะพะปัŒะทะฝัƒะปะฐ ะฟะพ ะตั‘ ะณัƒะฑะฐะผ. ะ•ัะปะธ ะฑั‹ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะฒะปัŽะฑะธะปะฐััŒ ะฒ ะฝะตะณะพ ั‚ะฐะบ ะฑะตะทะพะณะปัะดะฝะพ, ะตัะปะธ ะฑั‹ ั‚ะพะปัŒะบะพ ะฟั€ะตะดะปะพะถะธะปะฐ ั€ะฐััั‚ะฐั‚ัŒัั ะฟะพ-ั…ะพั€ะพัˆะตะผัƒ ะฒ ะบะพะฝั†ะต ะพะณะพะฒะพั€ั‘ะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะณะพะดะฐ, ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพ, ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะฑั€ะตะปะฐ ะฑั‹ ัะตะนั‡ะฐั ะฟะพั‚ะตั€ัะฝะฝะพะน ะดัƒัˆะพะน, ั‚ะตะฝัŒัŽ ัะฒะพะตะณะพ ะฟั€ะตะถะฝะตะณะพ ยซัยป. ะะฝะฝะต ะฝะต ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะพััŒ ะดะฐะถะต ะฟะฐะปัŒั†ะตะผ ะฟะพัˆะตะฒะตะปะธั‚ัŒ, ะฐ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัƒะถะต ะฟะฐะปะฐ, ะพะบะพะฝั‡ะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ัะปะพะผะปะตะฝะฝะฐั ะธ ะฑะตะทะฝะฐะดั‘ะถะฝะพ ะฟะพั‚ะตั€ัะฝะฝะฐั. ะ“ะปะฐะฒะฐ 5 ะ’ัั‚ั€ะตั‡ะฐ ะขะตะผ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ะฒ ะ’ะ˜ะŸ-ะบะพะผะฝะฐั‚ะต ะบะปัƒะฑะฐ ยซะžะฐะทะธัยป, ัะฐะผะพะณะพ ะดะพั€ะพะณะพะณะพ ะผะตัั‚ะฐ ะฒ ะžั€ั‚ะพะฒัะบะต, ั†ะฐั€ะธะปะพ ะพะถะธะฒะปะตะฝะธะต. ะžัะฒะตั‰ะฐะตะผะฐั ัั€ะบะธะผ ัะฒะตั‚ะพะผ, ั€ะฐะทะฝะพัˆั‘ั€ัั‚ะฝะฐั ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธั ะผัƒะถั‡ะธะฝ ะธ ะถะตะฝั‰ะธะฝ ะฝะฐัะปะฐะถะดะฐะปะฐััŒ ัะบัะบะปัŽะทะธะฒะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะพะฑัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะบะธ ะฟะพะด ะทะฒัƒะบะธ ะณั€ะพั…ะพั‡ัƒั‰ะตะน ะผัƒะทั‹ะบะธ. ะ’ะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ะดะฒะตั€ัŒ ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ, ะธ ะฒ ะฟั€ะพั‘ะผะต ะฟะพัะฒะธะปัั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ. ะšะฐั€ะฐะพะบะต ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ะพะฑะพั€ะฒะฐะปะพััŒ, ะธ ั‚ะพะปะฟะฐ ะฟะพะฒะตั€ะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ะฒ ัƒะฝะธัะพะฝ ะฟะพะฟั€ะธะฒะตั‚ัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐั‚ัŒ ะตะณะพ: ยซะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ...ยป ะะต ัƒัะฟะตะปะธ ะพะฝะธ ะฟั€ะพะดะพะปะถะธั‚ัŒ, ะบะฐะบ ะธะท-ะทะฐ ะตะณะพ ัะฟะธะฝั‹ ะฒั‹ัˆะปะฐ ะถะตะฝั‰ะธะฝะฐ, ะทะฐะบัƒั‚ะฐะฝะฝะฐั ั ะฝะพะณ ะดะพ ะณะพะปะพะฒั‹ ะฒ ะฟะปะฐั‰. ะะฝะฝะฐ ัะฝัะปะฐ ะผะฐัะบัƒ, ะฒะทัะปะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะฟะพะด ั€ัƒะบัƒ ะธ, ะธะทะปัƒั‡ะฐั ะพะฑะฐัะฝะธะต, ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะธะปะฐััŒ ะบ ะฟั€ะธััƒั‚ัั‚ะฒัƒัŽั‰ะธะผ: ยซะœะพะน ะฟะพะผะพั‰ะฝะธะบ ะฒะฝะตะทะฐะฟะฝะพ ัƒะตั…ะฐะป, ะธ ั ะพัั‚ะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฑะตะท ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธะธ. ะะต ะถะตะปะฐั ะฟั€ะพะฒะพะดะธั‚ัŒ ะฒะตั‡ะตั€ ะฒ ะพะดะธะฝะพั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะต, ั ะฟั€ะธะณะปะฐัะธะปะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ ะฟั€ะธัะพะตะดะธะฝะธั‚ัŒัั ะบะพ ะผะฝะต. ะะฐะดะตัŽััŒ, ะฒั‹ ะฝะต ะฟั€ะพั‚ะธะฒ?ยป ะะฝะฝะฐ ะพะฑะปะฐะดะฐะปะฐ ัƒะดะธะฒะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพะน ะบั€ะฐัะพั‚ะพะน. ะ•ั‘ ะฒะธัˆะฝั‘ะฒั‹ะต ะณัƒะฑั‹, ะธะทัั‰ะฝั‹ะน ะฝะพัะธะบ, ะผะตั€ั†ะฐัŽั‰ะธะต ัƒัะทะฒะธะผั‹ะผ ะพั‡ะฐั€ะพะฒะฐะฝะธะตะผ ะณะปะฐะทะฐ ะฟั€ะธั‚ัะณะธะฒะฐะปะธ ะฒะทะณะปัะด ะธ ะฒั‹ะทั‹ะฒะฐะปะธ ัƒ ะพะบั€ัƒะถะฐัŽั‰ะธั… ะถะตะป*ะฝะธะต ะทะฐั‰ะธั‚ะธั‚ัŒ ะตั‘. ะžะฝะฐ ะบะฐะทะฐะปะฐััŒ ะฝะตะทะตะผะฝะพะน. ะ’ ะพั‚ะปะธั‡ะธะต ะพั‚ ะฝะตั‘, ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ะพั‚ะปะธั‡ะฐะปะฐััŒ ัั€ะบะพะน ะฒะฝะตัˆะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ. ะะฝะฝะฐ, ะฒ ัั€ะฐะฒะฝะตะฝะธะธ ั ะฝะตะน, ะพะฑะปะฐะดะฐะปะฐ ะฑะพะปะตะต ะผัะณะบะพะน ะธ ัะดะตั€ะถะฐะฝะฝะพะน ัะปะตะณะฐะฝั‚ะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ, ะบะฐะบ ัั‚ะพ ั‡ะฐัั‚ะพ ะฑั‹ะฒะฐะตั‚, ะฒ ัะตั€ะดะตั‡ะฝั‹ั… ะดะตะปะฐั… ะฝะตั‚ ะฟั€ะพัั‚ั‹ั… ะฟัƒั‚ะตะน. ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะธ ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะฐ ัะพัั‚ะพัะปะธ ะฒ ะฑั€ะฐะบะต, ะฝะพ ะปะธัˆัŒ ั„ะพั€ะผะฐะปัŒะฝะพ, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ะพะฝ ะฝะต ะฟั€ะธะณะปะฐัˆะฐะป ะตั‘ ะฝะฐ ั‡ะฐัั‚ะฝั‹ะต ัะฒะตั‚ัะบะธะต ะผะตั€ะพะฟั€ะธัั‚ะธั. ะ•ะณะพ ะทะฝะฐะบะพะผั‹ะต ั€ะตะดะบะพ ะพะฑั‰ะฐะปะธััŒ ั ะšะฐั€ะธะฝะพะน, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ะฝะต ั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐะปะธ ัะตะฑั ะพะฑัะทะฐะฝะฝั‹ะผะธ ะทะฐั‰ะธั‰ะฐั‚ัŒ ะตั‘. ะฃัะปั‹ัˆะฐะฒ ะบะพะผะผะตะฝั‚ะฐั€ะธะน ะะฝะฝั‹, ะฟั€ะธััƒั‚ัั‚ะฒัƒัŽั‰ะธะต ะฝะฐ ะผะณะฝะพะฒะตะฝะธะต ัะผัƒั‚ะธะปะธััŒ, ะฝะพ ะทะฐั‚ะตะผ ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ะพ ะฟั€ะธัˆะปะธ ะฒ ัะตะฑั ะธ, ะปัŽะฑะตะทะฝะพ ัƒะปั‹ะฑะฝัƒะฒัˆะธััŒ, ัะบะฐะทะฐะปะธ: ยซะ—ะดะตััŒ ัะพะฑั€ะฐะปะธััŒ ะดั€ัƒะทัŒั, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ะฝะต ัั‚ะพะธั‚ ะฑะตัะฟะพะบะพะธั‚ัŒัั ะพ ั„ะพั€ะผะฐะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัั…ยป. ะะฝะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฝะธะผะฐัŽั‰ะต ัƒะปั‹ะฑะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ะธ ะณั€ะฐั†ะธะพะทะฝะพ ะฝะฐะฟั€ะฐะฒะธะปะฐััŒ ะทะฐ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะพะผ ะฒ ัˆัƒะผะฝัƒัŽ ะบะพะผะฝะฐั‚ัƒ. ะœะตั€ะพะฟั€ะธัั‚ะธะต ะฟั€ะพะฒะพะดะธะปะพััŒ ั ั†ะตะปัŒัŽ ะฒั‹ั€ะฐะทะธั‚ัŒ ะฟั€ะธะทะฝะฐั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะทะฐ ะตะณะพ ะฒะบะปะฐะด. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะพะฝะธ ะฒะพัˆะปะธ ะฒ ะทะฐะป, ั‚ะพะปะฟะฐ ั€ะฐััั‚ัƒะฟะธะปะฐััŒ, ัะปะพะฒะฝะพ ะผะพั€ะต, ะฟั€ะพะฟัƒัะบะฐั ะธั… ะบ ะฟะพั‡ั‘ั‚ะฝั‹ะผ ะผะตัั‚ะฐะผ. ะ›ะธะดะตั€ ะณั€ัƒะฟะฟั‹ ะฟั€ะพั‚ัะฝัƒะป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะฑ*ะบะฐะป ะฒ*ะฝะฐ ะธ ั ัˆะธั€ะพะบะพะน ัƒั…ะผั‹ะปะบะพะน ะทะฐัะฒะธะป: ยซะœั‹ ะฒะฐะผ ะพั‡ะตะฝัŒ ะฑะปะฐะณะพะดะฐั€ะฝั‹, ะณะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ! ะž ะฒะฐัˆะธั… ะธัะบะปัŽั‡ะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝั‹ั… ั‚ะฐะปะฐะฝั‚ะฐั… ะณะพะฒะพั€ะธั‚ ะฒะตััŒ ะณะพั€ะพะด, ะธ ั ัะตะณะพะดะฝั ะปะธั‡ะฝะพ ะฒ ัั‚ะพะผ ัƒะฑะตะดะธะปัั. ะ‘ะตะท ะฒะฐัˆะตะณะพ ะพะฟั‹ั‚ะฐ ัั‚ะพั‚ ะบะพะฝั‚ั€ะฐะบั‚ ะฝะต ะทะฐะบะปัŽั‡ะธะปะธ ะฑั‹!ยป ะ˜ั… ะฒัั‚ั€ะตั‡ะฐ ะพะทะฝะฐะผะตะฝะพะฒะฐะปะฐ ะทะฐะฟัƒัะบ ะฝะพะฒะพะน ั‚ะพั€ะณะพะฒะพะน ะฟะปะฐั‚ั„ะพั€ะผั‹, ะฟะตั€ะตะณะพะฒะพั€ั‹ ะพ ัะพะทะดะฐะฝะธะธ ะบะพั‚ะพั€ะพะน ะฒะตะปะธััŒ ั ะผะฝะพะณะพั‡ะธัะปะตะฝะฝั‹ะผะธ ะผะตัั‚ะฝั‹ะผะธ ะฑั€ะตะฝะดะฐะผะธ ะฒ ะžั€ั‚ะพะฒัะบะต. ะžะดะฝะฐะบะพ ัะธั‚ัƒะฐั†ะธั ะบะฐั€ะดะธะฝะฐะปัŒะฝะพ ะธะทะผะตะฝะธะปะฐััŒ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะฝะฐ ัั†ะตะฝัƒ ะฒั‹ัˆะตะป ั‚ะตั…ะฝะพะปะพะณะธั‡ะตัะบะธะน ะณะธะณะฐะฝั‚ ยซะ”ะถะพะนยป, ั€ะตะทะบะพ ะพะฑะพัั‚ั€ะธะฒัˆะธะน ะบะพะฝะบัƒั€ะตะฝั†ะธัŽ. ะšะพะฝะบัƒั€ะตะฝั†ะธั ั ยซะ”ะถะพะนยป ะฝะฐะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะปะฐ ะบะปะฐััะธั‡ะตัะบัƒัŽ ะธัั‚ะพั€ะธัŽ ะพ ะ”ะฐะฒะธะดะต ะธ ะ“ะพะปะธะฐั„ะต ะธ ะฒั‹ะณะปัะดะตะปะฐ ะฑะตะทะฝะฐะดั‘ะถะฝะพ ัะปะพะถะฝะพะน. ะ’ ะฟะพั€ั‹ะฒะต ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะธั ะพะฝะธ, ะธัะฟะพะปัŒะทะพะฒะฐะฒ ัะฒัะทะธ, ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะธะปะธััŒ ะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะทะฐ ะฟะพะผะพั‰ัŒัŽ. ะก ะฟั€ะธััƒั‰ะตะน ะตะผัƒ ัั‚ั€ะตะผะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพัั‚ัŒัŽ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ั€ะฐะทั€ะฐะฑะพั‚ะฐะป ั…ะธั‚ั€ะพัƒะผะฝั‹ะน ะฟะปะฐะฝ ะธ ะฑั‹ัั‚ั€ะพ ะพะฑะตัะฟะตั‡ะธะป ัะดะตะปะบัƒ, ะฒั‹ั€ะฒะฐะฒ ะตั‘ ะธะท ะปะฐะฟ ยซะ”ะถะพะนยป ะตั‰ั‘ ะดะพ ั‚ะพะณะพ, ะบะฐะบ ะฑะธะทะฝะตั-ะฐััะพั†ะธะฐั†ะธั ัƒัะฟะตะปะฐ ะทะฐะบะปัŽั‡ะธั‚ัŒ ัะพะณะปะฐัˆะตะฝะธะต. ะ˜ ัั‚ะพั‚ ะผะฐัั‚ะตั€ัะบะธะน ั…ะพะด ะฟั€ะธะฝั‘ั ัƒัะฟะตั…. ะญั‚ะพ ัะพะฑั‹ั‚ะธะต ะปะธัˆัŒ ัƒะบั€ะตะฟะธะปะพ ัƒะฒะฐะถะตะฝะธะต ะปัŽะดะตะน ะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ. ะั€ั‚ัƒั€ ะœะพั€ะพะทะพะฒ, ัะธัั ะพั‚ ะณะพั€ะดะพัั‚ะธ, ั…ะฒะฐัั‚ะฐะปัั: ยซะขะพะปัŒะบะพ ะฟะพัะผะพั‚ั€ะธั‚ะต ะฝะฐ ะตะณะพ ะดั€ัƒะทะตะน! ะžะฝะธ ะดัƒะผะฐะปะธ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ัะผะพะณัƒั‚ ะทะฐะบะปัŽั‡ะฐั‚ัŒ ัะดะตะปะบะธ ะฟั€ัะผะพ ัƒ ะฝะฐั ะฟะพะด ะฝะพัะพะผ, ัะฒะฝะพ ะฝะตะดะพะพั†ะตะฝะธะฒะฐั ะฒะปะธัะฝะธะต ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ!ยป ะั€ั‚ัƒั€, ั€ะพะดะธะฒัˆะธะนัั ะฒ ะฑะพะณะฐั‚ะพะน ัะตะผัŒะต ะœะพั€ะพะทะพะฒั‹ั…, ะฟั€ะธั‡ะธัะปัะป ัะตะฑั ะบ ัะฐะผั‹ะผ ะฑะปะธะทะบะธะผ ะดั€ัƒะทัŒัะผ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะžะฝ ะพะฑั€ะพั ะฟะพะปะตะทะฝั‹ะผะธ ัะฒัะทัะผะธ, ะธ ะธะผะตะฝะฝะพ ั‡ะตั€ะตะท ะฝะตะณะพ ะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝัƒ ะฒ ะพั‚ั‡ะฐัะฝะธะธ ะพะฑั€ะฐั‚ะธะปะธััŒ ะทะฐ ะฟะพะผะพั‰ัŒัŽ. ะขะตะผ ะฒั€ะตะผะตะฝะตะผ ัะฐะผ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ, ัั‚ะฐะฒัˆะธะน ั†ะตะฝั‚ั€ะพะผ ะฒัะตะพะฑั‰ะตะณะพ ะพะฑััƒะถะดะตะฝะธั, ะฝะตะฒะพะทะผัƒั‚ะธะผะพ ะพั‚ะบะธะฝัƒะปัั ะฝะฐ ะดะธะฒะฐะฝะต, ะบัƒะฟะฐัััŒ ะฒ ะผัะณะบะพะผ ัะธัะฝะธะธ ะฒะตั€ั…ะฝะตะณะพ ัะฒะตั‚ะฐ. ะžะฝ ะฟั€ะตะบั€ะฐัะฝะพ ะฒะปะฐะดะตะป ะธัะบัƒััั‚ะฒะพะผ ะฟั€ะธะฝะธะผะฐั‚ัŒ ะบะพะผะฟะปะธะผะตะฝั‚ั‹, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ะฒั‹ั€ะฐะถะตะฝะธะต ะตะณะพ ะปะธั†ะฐ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะฐะปะพััŒ ัะฟะพะบะพะนะฝั‹ะผ ะธ ะพั‚ัั‚ั€ะฐะฝั‘ะฝะฝั‹ะผ. ะ ะฐััะตัะฝะฝั‹ะน ัะฒะตั‚ ะฟะพะดั‡ั‘ั€ะบะธะฒะฐะป ัƒะณะปะพะฒะฐั‚ั‹ะต ั‡ะตั€ั‚ั‹ ะตะณะพ ะปะธั†ะฐ, ะพั‚ะฑั€ะฐัั‹ะฒะฐั ัั„ั„ะตะบั‚ะฝั‹ะต ั‚ะตะฝะธ ะฝะฐ ะฒั‹ัะพะบัƒัŽ ะฟะตั€ะตะฝะพัะธั†ัƒ ะธ ั€ะตะทะบะพ ะพั‡ะตั€ั‡ะตะฝะฝัƒัŽ ะปะธะฝะธัŽ ะฟะพะดะฑะพั€ะพะดะบะฐ. ะœัƒะถั‡ะธะฝะฐ ะฝะฐะฟะพะผะธะฝะฐะป ะพะถะธะฒัˆะธะน ัˆะตะดะตะฒั€. ะกะฒะพะตะน ะฟั€ะธั€ะพะดะฝะพะน ะณั€ะฐั†ะธะตะน ะธ ะพั‚ั€ะตัˆั‘ะฝะฝะพะน ะผะฐะฝะตั€ะพะน ะฟะพะฒะตะดะตะฝะธั ะพะฝ ะทะฐั‚ะผะตะฒะฐะป ะฒะตะปะธะบะพะปะตะฟะธะต ะฒัะตะณะพ ะผะธั€ะฐ. ะŸะพัะปะต ั‡ะตั€ะตะดั‹ ั‚ะพัั‚ะพะฒ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ัั‚ะฐะปะพ ะพั‡ะตะฒะธะดะฝะพ, ั‡ั‚ะพ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฒัะตะณะพ ะปะธัˆัŒ ะฟั€ะธะณัƒะฑะธะป ะฒ*ะฝะพ, ะพัั‚ะฐะปัŒะฝั‹ะต ั‡ะปะตะฝั‹ ะบะพะผะฟะฐะฝะธะธ ะฟั€ะธั‚ะธั…ะปะธ, ะฟั€ะตะดะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะฒ ะตะผัƒ ะฒะพะทะผะพะถะฝะพัั‚ัŒ ะฝะตะผะฝะพะณะพ ะพั‚ะดะพั…ะฝัƒั‚ัŒ. ะะฝะฝัƒ ะฝะตะผะฝะพะณะพ ะปะธั…ะพั€ะฐะดะธะปะพ, ะฟะพัั‚ะพะผัƒ ะพะฝะฐ ะฝะต ะฟ*ะปะฐ ะธ ั‚ะธั…ะพ ัƒัั‚ั€ะพะธะปะฐััŒ ั€ัะดะพะผ ั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะพะผ, ั ะพะฑะพะถะฐะฝะธะตะผ ะณะปัะดั ะฝะฐ ะฝะตะณะพ. ะั€ั‚ัƒั€, ะพั‡ะฐั€ะพะฒะฐะฝะฝั‹ะน ัั‚ะพะน, ะบะฐะทะฐะปะพััŒ ะฑั‹, ะธะดะตะฐะปัŒะฝะพะน ะฟะฐั€ะพะน, ั€ะฐะทะผั‹ัˆะปัะป ะพ ะฟั€ะธั…ะพั‚ัั… ััƒะดัŒะฑั‹, ะฐ ะทะฐั‚ะตะผ ะฝะตะทะฐะผะตั‚ะฝะพ ัะดะตะปะฐะป ะธั… ัะฝะธะผะพะบ ะฝะฐ ัะฒะพะน ัะผะฐั€ั‚ั„ะพะฝ ะธ ะฟะพะดะตะปะธะปัั ะธะผ ะฒ ัะพั†ะธะฐะปัŒะฝั‹ั… ัะตั‚ัั…. ะšะพะณะดะฐ ะฒะตั‡ะตั€ ะฟะพะดั…ะพะดะธะป ะบ ะบะพะฝั†ัƒ, ะฐ ัะฟ*ั€ั‚ะฝะพะต ะทะฐะบะฐะฝั‡ะธะฒะฐะปะพััŒ, ะดะฒะตั€ัŒ ะบะพะผะฝะฐั‚ั‹ ัะฝะพะฒะฐ ั€ะฐัะฟะฐั…ะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ, ะธ ะฝะฐ ะฟะพั€ะพะณะต ะฟะพัะฒะธะปัั ะปะธั‡ะฝั‹ะน ะฟะพะผะพั‰ะฝะธะบ ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ, ะžะปะตะณ ะ‘ั€ะพะปะพะฒ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ั‹ะน ะฟะพะฟั€ะธะฒะตั‚ัั‚ะฒะพะฒะฐะป ัะพะฑั€ะฐะฒัˆะธั…ัั ะฒะตะถะปะธะฒั‹ะผ ะบะธะฒะบะพะผ, ะฝะต ัƒะผะฐะปัั ะฟั€ะธ ัั‚ะพะผ ัะพะฑัั‚ะฒะตะฝะฝะพะณะพ ะดะพัั‚ะพะธะฝัั‚ะฒะฐ, ะธ ะฒัั‚ะฐะป ะฟะตั€ะตะด ะฑะพััะพะผ. ะ’ ะฟะพะผะตั‰ะตะฝะธะธ ะฟะพะฒะธัะปะฐ ั‚ะธัˆะธะฝะฐ, ะธ ะะฝะฝะฐ, ะฝะต ะฒ ัะธะปะฐั… ัะดะตั€ะถะฐั‚ัŒ ะปัŽะฑะพะฟั‹ั‚ัั‚ะฒะพ, ะฝะฐะบะปะพะฝะธะปะฐััŒ ะธ ะฟั€ะพัˆะตะฟั‚ะฐะปะฐ: ยซะงั‚ะพ ัะปัƒั‡ะธะปะพััŒ?ยป ะŸั€ะพะธะณะฝะพั€ะธั€ะพะฒะฐะฒ ะตั‘ ะฒะพะฟั€ะพั, ะžะปะตะณ ะฝะต ัะฒะพะดะธะป ะณะปะฐะท ั ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝะฐ. ะŸะพะบั€ะฐัะฝะตะฒ ะพั‚ ัะผัƒั‰ะตะฝะธั, ะะฝะฝะฐ ะฟะพะฒะตั€ะฝัƒะปะฐััŒ ะบ ัะฒะพะตะผัƒ ัะฟัƒั‚ะฝะธะบัƒ ะธ ะฝะตั€ะตัˆะธั‚ะตะปัŒะฝะพ ัะฟั€ะพัะธะปะฐ: ยซะœะฝะต ัƒะนั‚ะธ?ยป ะšะพะฝัั‚ะฐะฝั‚ะธะฝ ะฒั‹ะฟั€ัะผะธะปัั ะธ ั‚ะธั…ะพ ะฟั€ะธะบะฐะทะฐะป: ยซะ“ะพะฒะพั€ะธยป. ะžั…ะฒะฐั‡ะตะฝะฝั‹ะน ะดัƒั€ะฝั‹ะผ ะฟั€ะตะดั‡ัƒะฒัั‚ะฒะธะตะผ, ะžะปะตะณ ะฒะทะดั€ะพะณะฝัƒะป ะธ ะพัั‚ะพั€ะพะถะฝะพ ะฟั€ะพะธะทะฝั‘ั: ยซะ“ะพัะฟะพะดะธะฝ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒ, ะณะพัะฟะพะถะฐ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะฐ ัƒะตั…ะฐะปะฐ ะธะท ะฒะธะปะปั‹ ะŸั€ะธะฑั€ะตะถะฝะฐั ะธ...ะ“ะพัะฟะพะถะฐ ะะพะฒะธะบะพะฒะฐ ะพัั‚ะฐะฒะธะปะฐ ะฑะฐะฝะบะพะฒัะบัƒัŽ ะบะฐั€ั‚ัƒ โ€“ ั‚ัƒ ัะฐะผัƒัŽ, ะบะพั‚ะพั€ัƒัŽ ะฒั‹ ะบะพะณะดะฐ-ั‚ะพ ะตะน ะฒั€ัƒั‡ะธะปะธยป. ... ะงั‚ะพ ะฑัƒะดะตั‚ ะดะฐะปัŒัˆะต? ะšะพะปะธั‡ะตัั‚ะฒะพ ะณะปะฐะฒ ะทะดะตััŒ ะพะณั€ะฐะฝะธั‡ะตะฝะพ, ะฝะฐะถะผะธั‚ะต ะฝะฐ ะบะฝะพะฟะบัƒ ะฝะธะถะต, ั‡ั‚ะพะฑั‹ ัƒัั‚ะฐะฝะพะฒะธั‚ัŒ ะฟั€ะธะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต ะธ ะฟั€ะพะดะพะปะถะธั‚ัŒ ั‡ั‚ะตะฝะธะต ะฑะพะปะตะต ะทะฐั…ะฒะฐั‚ั‹ะฒะฐัŽั‰ะธั… ะณะปะฐะฒ! (ะ’ั‹ ะฑัƒะดะตั‚ะต ะฐะฒั‚ะพะผะฐั‚ะธั‡ะตัะบะธ ะฟะตั€ะตะฝะฐะฟั€ะฐะฒะปะตะฝั‹ ะฝะฐ ะบะฝะธะณัƒ, ะบะพะณะดะฐ ะพั‚ะบั€ะพะตั‚ะต ะฟั€ะธะปะพะถะตะฝะธะต) &4& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/15407418-fb_contact- Romantic Fiction https://www.facebook.com/61564727788108/ 421 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.litradnovie.com VIDEO https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/15407418-fb_contact-rup26_2-250212-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=1139909194125854&exdata=55DF4B83FF0AC7277F5A8553F6F87850F03805B17937747F 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481059627_1377411619941697_6661510005641853641_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3mKanBWixyQQ7kNvgHv098j&_nc_oc=Adit97yAs58HNvjrtDOoPzfwTBClcgOycsBZpnbL5afOxdzhGJOE4a68hsLw4U4LvYlJBTNNLRPUk9E4QvBxmmYT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AgSFmTAr--PxyTNfRZOd7n1&oh=00_AYDk7H2Tsq5H1Xz8xXdweddaEU5ToF170Z4fmw2-qH7JzA&oe=67CC05BA PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Romantic Fiction 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281)
'{"alias":2768661}'
Yes 2025-03-03 19:18 active 2792 0 ์ด๊ณณ์„ ํด๋ฆญํ•˜๊ณ  ๋ฌด๋ฃŒ๋กœ ์ฝ์–ด๋ณด์„ธ์š”! ๋•Œ๋Š” ๋ฐค 11์‹œ. ํ˜•๋‹˜ ์ง‘ ์•„๋ž˜์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ณต์›์—์„œ ์•ผ๊ฐ„ ๋Ÿฌ๋‹์„ ํ•˜๋˜ ์ค‘, ํ’€์ˆฒ ์†์—์„œ ๋“ค๋ ค์˜ค๋Š” ๋‚จ๋…€์˜ ๋ฐ”์Šค๋ฝ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ง„๋™์„ฑ, ์„ค๋งˆ ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ? ์ง‘์—์„œ๋Š” ๋А๋‚Œ ์•ˆ ์‚ฐ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด์„œ ์—ฌ๊ธฐ๊นŒ์ง€ ์™”๋”๋‹ˆ, ์™œ ์•„์ง๋„ ์•ˆ ๋ผ?โ€ โ€˜์ €๊ฑฐ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋“ฃ์ž๋งˆ์ž ์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๊ณ ํƒœ์—ฐ์ด๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑธ ์•Œ์•„๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ฐฅ ๋จน์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ„๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ? ์™œ ๊ณต์› ํ’€์ˆฒ์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์ง€?โ€™ ์—ฌ์ž ์นœ๊ตฌ๋Š” ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์•ˆ ์‚ฌ๊ท€์–ด ๋ดค์ง€๋งŒ ๋™์˜์ƒ์€ ๊ทธ๋ž˜๋„ ๋งŽ์ด ๋ดค๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ž๋ถ€ํ•˜๊ธฐ์—, ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณง๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ง“์„ ํ•˜๋Š”์ง€ ์•Œ์•„๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์Šค๋ฆด์„ ์ข‹์•„ํ•  ์ค„์€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋„ค. ๊ทธ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๊ณต์›์—์„œ.โ€™ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์—ฟ๋“ฃ๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด๋„ ์˜ˆ์˜์žฅํ•œ๋ฐ ๋ชธ๋งค๋Š” ๋” ๋๋‚ด์ค€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ผ๋‹ˆ ์ด๊ฑด ๊ฟˆ์— ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๋˜ ์ผ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์‚ด๊ธˆ์‚ด๊ธˆ ์ˆ˜ํ’€ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด๊ฐ€ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด๋ฐ€์—ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ํ˜• ์œ„์— ์•‰์•„ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก  ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋“ฑ์ง€๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ๋“ฑ ๋ผ์ธ์„ ๊ฐํƒ„ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋ฐ–์— ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋งˆ๋ฅด๊ณ  ์•„๋žซ๋ฐฐ์— ์—ด๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ์˜ฌ๋ผ์™”๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋งค๋ ฅ์ ์ธ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์•ž์—์„œ ํ˜•์€ ์˜ ๋งฅ์„ ๋ชป ์ท„๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๋‚˜ ์—ฌ์ „ํžˆ ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š”๋ฐ.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋Ÿญ ํ™”๋ฅผ ๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•ฝ๋„ ์—†๋„ค, ์ •๋ง. ์ด์ œ ๊ณ ์ž‘ ์„œ๋ฅธ๋‹ค์„ฏ์ด๋ฉด์„œ ์™œ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์“ธ๋ชจ๊ฐ€ ์—†์–ด? ์•ˆ ์„œ๋ฉด ์‹ธ๊ธฐ๋ผ๋„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ. ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์—†์œผ๋ฉด ์• ๋Š” ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ€์ ธ? ๊ณ„์† ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ๋งŒ๋‚œ๋‹ค? ๋‹น์‹ ์€ ์•  ์‹ซ์„์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ๋„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—„๋งˆ๊ฐ€ ๋˜๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๊ณ .โ€ ์ž”๋œฉ ํ™”๊ฐ€ ๋‚œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฐ”์ง€๋ฅผ ์ž…๊ณ ๋Š” ์ˆ˜ํ’€ ๋ฐ–์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด ๋‚˜์˜ค์ž ๋†€๋ž€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ—๋ ˆ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ๋„๋ง์ณค๋‹ค. ์ง‘์— ๋Œ์•„์˜จ ์ง€ ์–ผ๋งˆ ์ง€๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋Œ์•„์˜ค๋Š” ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜์พ…โ€™ ๋‹ซํžˆ๋Š” ๋ฌธ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์— ๋‚ด ๊ฐ€์Šด๋„ โ€˜์ฒ ๋ โ€™ ๋‚ด๋ ค์•‰์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜๊นœ์ง ๋†€๋ž๋„ค. ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์‚ฌ์ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์•ˆ ์ข‹์„ ์ค„์ด์•ผ.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์ค‘์–ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ์“ธ์–ด๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ๋‚˜์ด๊ฐ€ ๋“ค์ˆ˜๋ก ์š•๊ตฌ๊ฐ€ ๋งŽ์•„์ง„๋‹ค๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜๋„ ์š•๊ตฌ ๋ถˆ๋งŒ์ธ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ•˜๊ธด, ํ˜•์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋น„์‹ค๋น„์‹คํ•œ ๋ชธ์œผ๋กœ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์„ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋งŒ์กฑ์‹œํ‚ค๊ฒ ์–ด? ๋‚˜ ์ •๋„๋Š” ๋ผ์•ผ์ง€.โ€™ โ€˜ํ‰คํ‰คํ‰ค! ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ง€๊ธˆ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ? ๊ณ ํƒœ์—ฐ์€ ๋‚ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๋ผ๊ณ  ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด?โ€™ ๋ฌผ๋ก  ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ง„๋™์„ฑ๊ณผ ์นœํ˜•์ œ๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ์นœํ˜•์ œ ๋ชป์ง€์•Š๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ๋ˆํ•œ ์‚ฌ์ด๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ์—ˆ์œผ๋ฉด ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋Œ€ํ•™๋„ ๊ฐˆ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ๊ณ . ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ์ž ๊ฒจ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ์˜†๋ฐฉ์—์„œ ๋‚ฎ์€ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๊ท€๋ฅผ ๋ฒฝ์— ๋Œ€๊ณ  ์—ฟ๋“ค์–ด ๋ดค๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๊ฑด ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์ด ์‹ ์Œ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ง€๊ธˆ...โ€™ ์ƒ๊ฐํ• ์ˆ˜๋ก ๋ชธ์ด ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ผ ๋„์ €ํžˆ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด ๋‚˜๋„ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋ฐ”์ง€ ๋ฒ„ํด์„ ๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ์ž ์‹œ ๋’ค, ๋ฒฝ ํ•˜๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์‚ฌ์ด ๋‘๊ณ  ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ ์Œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ํ•œ๋ฐ ์„ž์˜€๋‹ค. ์˜ํ˜ผ์ด ์ด์–ด์ง„ ๋“ฏํ•œ ๋А๋‚Œ์— ๋‚˜๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์˜จ๊ฐ– ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์™€ ๋งŒ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ ํ•˜๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด๊ฑด ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ๋ถˆ๊ฐ€๋Šฅํ•œ ์ผ์ด๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋‚˜ ์‚ฌ์ด์—๋Š” ์˜์›ํžˆ ๋„˜์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ํ˜•์ด๋ผ๋Š” ์กด์žฌ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ. ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•œ ์ผ์€ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋‹ค. ๋”๋Ÿฌ์›Œ์ง„ ์†์˜ท์„ ๋Œ€์ถฉ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค์— ๋‘๊ณ  ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‚ด์ผ ์”ป์ž๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์œผ๋กœ ์ž ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ดํŠฟ๋‚ , ์ž ์—์„œ ๊นจ์—ˆ์„ ๋•Œ ์‹œ๊ฐ„์€ ๋ฒŒ์จ 9์‹œ๊ฐ€ ๋„˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์€ ์ด๋ฏธ ์ถœ๊ทผํ–ˆ๊ณ  ์ง‘์—๋Š” ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ ๋‘˜๋ฟ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์•„์นจ์„ ํ•˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์‹คํฌ๋กœ ๋œ ๋‚˜์‹œ ์Šฌ๋ฆฝ์„ ์ž…์€ ์ฑ„๋กœ ๊ตด๊ณก์ง„ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ๋“œ๋Ÿฌ๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. ํŠนํžˆ ํ’๋งŒํ•œ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ง๋ž๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ์–ด์š”? ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์”ป๊ณ  ๋ฐฅ ๋จน์–ด์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋จผ์ € ์ธ์‚ฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋„ธ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๊ณณ์— ์˜จ ์ง€๋Š” ์•„์ง ๋ฉฐ์น  ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š๊ธฐ์— ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์•„์ง ์นœํ•ด์ง€์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜์—ฌ ๋งŽ์ด ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ณง์žฅ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค๋กœ ํ–ฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•œ์ฐฝ ์”ป๋˜ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์–ด์ œ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‘์—ˆ๋˜ ์†์˜ท์ด ๋‚ด ๋‡Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์Šค์ณค๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ณด๋‹ค ์ผ์ฐ ๊นจ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋Š”๋ฐ ์„ค๋งˆ ๋ณธ ๊ฑด ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ์ง€?โ€™ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ํ•˜๋ฉฐ ์žฌ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ํ™•์ธํ•œ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Œ€๋กœ ์–ผ์–ด๋ถ™๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. ์†์˜ท์ด ์‚ฌ๋ผ์กŒ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๊ณณ์ €๊ณณ ์ฐพ๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋’ค์—์„œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ฐพ์„ ํ•„์š” ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ด๋ฏธ ์”ป์—ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ.โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฒ ๋ ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜๊ทธ ์†์˜ท์— ๋‚ด ์ •์•ก์ด ๊ฐ€๋“ ๋ฌป์–ด ์žˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์”ป์—ˆ๋‹ค๋ฉด ๋ดค์„ ๊ฑฐ์ž–์•„!โ€™ ์ด๊ฑด ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์› ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋‚€ ์ฑ„ ๋ˆˆ์›ƒ์Œ์„ ์น˜๋ฉฐ ์•„๋ฌด๋ ‡์ง€ ์•Š์€ ๋“ฏ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ํ˜น์‹œ ์–ด์ œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ ˆ๋ ˆ์ ˆ๋ ˆ ํ”๋“ค๋ฉฐ ์–ด์ œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ๊ทน๊ตฌ ๋ถ€์ธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”, ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ชป ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”? ๋‚ด ๋ฐฉ์—์„œ ์ด์ƒํ•œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ฃ์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€˜์ด๊ฑด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์‹œํ—˜ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑด๊ฐ€?โ€™ โ€œ์ € ์–ด์ œ 10์‹œ์ฏค์— ์ž ๋“ค์–ด์„œ ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ชป ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ ์ด ๋ง์„ ๋์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋„๋ง์น˜๋“ฏ ๊ทธ ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฒ—์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ์™ ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์‹ฌ๋ฌธ์— ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฝ•์ฝ• ์ฐ”๋ ธ๊ณ  ๋ˆˆ์€ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์œผ๋กœ ํ–ฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋งˆ๊ฐ€ ๋‚€ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ์‹ํƒ ์•ž์— ์•‰์•„ ๋ฌต๋ฌตํžˆ ์Œ์‹์„ ๋จน์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋ฐฅ์ด ์ฝ”๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€๋Š”์ง€ ์ž…์œผ๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€๋Š”์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋„ ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ๊ฒŒ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ด๋‚ด ๊ฑธ์–ด์™€ ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ๋‚ด ์˜†์— ์•‰์•˜๊ธฐ ๋•Œ๋ฌธ์ด๋‹ค. ์™œ ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋Š”์ง€ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค. ์˜ˆ์ „์—๋Š” ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋‚ด ๋งž์€ํŽธ์— ์•‰์•˜๋Š”๋ฐ, ์˜ค๋Š˜์€ ์™œ ๋‚ด ์˜†์— ์•‰๋Š”์ง€. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ์ž ๊ฒจ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์†๊ฐ€๋ฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚ด ํŒ”๋š์„ ์ฟก์ฟก ์ฐ”๋ €๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์˜จ๋ชธ์ด ๊ฐ์ „๋˜๋Š” ๋“ฏ ์ฐŒ๋ฆฟํ•ด ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€˜์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ๋ชธ์„ ๋งŒ์ง€๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด๊ตฌ๋‚˜.โ€™ ์‹ ๊ธฐํ•œ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ์กฐ๊ธˆ ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•ด์„œ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ์›๋ž˜ ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ์ ์  ์ต์ˆ™ํ•ด์ง€๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”? ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๋” ๋งŽ์ด ๊ต๋ฅ˜ํ•ด์•ผ์ฃ . ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์นœํ•ด์ง€์ฃ . ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ๋‚จ์ž์™€ ์—ฌ์ž๊ฐ€ ๊ฐ€์žฅ ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ์นœํ•ด์ง€๋Š” ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์ด ๋ญ”์ง€ ์•Œ์•„์š”?โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ธ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ถ„๋ช… ๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ์•”์‹œํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์ธ์‹ํ•˜๋‹ˆ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‹นํ™ฉํ•ด ๋ฐฅ์ด ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ์„ค๋ ˜ ๋ฐ˜ ๊ธด์žฅ ๋ฐ˜์ธ ์‹ฌ์ •์œผ๋กœ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‹ด๊ธด ์˜๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋๋‚ด ์šฉ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด ์งˆ๋ฌธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ญ”๋ฐ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„์ด ๋งŒ๋“œ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง‘์€ ๋‘ ๋ˆˆ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ์•„์ฃผ ์ง์„ค์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ ˆ๊ฐ€ ๊ฑธ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์™œ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ง์„ ํ•˜๋Š”์ง€ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ญ˜ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ณ . โ€˜์„ค๋งˆ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋…ธ๋ฆฌ๋‚˜?โ€™ โ€˜ํ˜•์ด ์•ˆ ๋˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ํฌ๋ง์„ ํ’ˆ์€ ๊ฑด๊ฐ€?โ€™ โ€˜์•ˆ๋ผ, ๋‚œ ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•œ ์ผ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค๊ธ‰ํžˆ ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ๋“ค๊ณ  ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋ฌผ๋Ÿฌ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜, ๋†๋‹ดํ•˜์ง€ ๋งˆ์„ธ์š”. ๋ˆ„๊ฐ€ ๋ณด๋ฉด ์˜คํ•ดํ•ด์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ํ”ผ์‹ ์›ƒ๋”๋‹ˆ ๊ณง์žฅ ์งˆ๋ฌธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด๋ด์š”. ์–ด์ œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”? ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์œผ๋ฉด ๊นŠ์€ ๋Œ€ํ™”๋ฅผ ํ•ด๋ด์•ผ ํ•  ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์€๋ฐ์š”.โ€ โ€˜ํ—‰, ์ ˆ๋Œ€ ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋†€๋ž€ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋‹ค๋…์ด๋ฉฐ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ์ž…์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์ € ํ™•์‹คํžˆ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ ๋“ค์—ˆ์–ด์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ณ ์˜๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์—ˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด ์‹ ์Œ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์˜€์–ด์š”? ๋“ฃ๊ธฐ ์ข‹๋˜๊ฐ€์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋…ธ๊ณจ์ ์ธ ์งˆ๋ฌธ์„ ํ•  ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๊ณ ๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ง€๋„ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ํ™”๋ˆ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ์š”๋ž€ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ถ์„ ์ณ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๊ฐˆํ”ผ๋ฅผ ์žก์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋˜ ๊ทธ๋•Œ. ๋งˆ์นจ ๋ฐ–์—์„œ ๋…ธํฌ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์˜ค์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ง€ํ‘ธ๋ผ๊ธฐ๋ผ๋„ ์žก๋Š” ์‹ฌ์ •์œผ๋กœ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ๋ฌธ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋ฌธ์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ฐ–์—๋Š” ๋Š˜์”ฌํ•œ ์—ฌ์ž ํ•œ ๋ช…์ด ์„œ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ์˜ˆ์˜์žฅํ•œ ๋ฐ๋‹ค, ๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๋ฐ ๋‚˜์˜ค๊ณ  ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐˆ ๋ฐ ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ€ ์—ฐ์˜ˆ์ธ ๋ชป์ง€์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด์ž ๋ˆˆ์„ ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋œจ๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ์ชฝ์€ ๋ˆ„๊ตฌ์ฃ ?โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ด์ด๊ฐ€ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋Š” ๊ทธ์ชฝ์€ ๋ˆ„๊ตฐ๋ฐ์š”?โ€ ์ œ2ํ™” โ€œ์• ๊ต์•ผ, ์™”์–ด? ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋“ค์–ด์™€.โ€ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•ดํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™€ ๋‚ฏ์„  ์—ฌ์ž๋ฅผ ์นœ์ ˆํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋งž์ดํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์ดˆ๋Œ€๋กœ ๊ณง์žฅ ์ง‘ ์•ˆ์— ๋“ค์–ด์„ฐ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์†Œ๊ฐœํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์นœํ•œ ์นœ๊ตฌ์ธ๋ฐ, ์ด๋ฆ„์€ ์ด์• ๊ต, ๋ฐ”๋กœ ์˜†์ง‘์— ์‚ด๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์• ๊ต์•ผ, ์ด ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ์™€ ๊ฐ™์€ ๋งˆ์„์— ์‚ด๋˜ ๋™์ƒ์ด์•ผ, ์ •์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ๋ผ๊ณ , ์–ด์ œ ์™”์–ด.โ€ ์• ๊ต๋ผ๋Š” ์—ฌ์ž๋Š” ์ด์ƒํ•œ ๋ˆˆ์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๋‚ด ๋น™๊ทธ๋ ˆ ์›ƒ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จํ•œํ…Œ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์–ด๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์ž˜์ƒ๊ธด ๋™์ƒ์ด ๋‹ค ์žˆ์—ˆ์–ด?โ€ โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์ด์ œ ๋ง‰ ๋Œ€ํ•™ ์กธ์—…ํ–ˆ์–ด. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ๋‹น์—ฐํžˆ ์ Š์ง€. ์ Š์„ ๋ฟ๋งŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ์—„์ฒญ ํŠผ์‹คํ•ด.โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ผ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋งˆ์ง€๋ง‰ ํ•œ๋งˆ๋””๋Š” ๋ฌด์ฒ™ ์˜๋ฏธ์‹ฌ์žฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋ˆˆ๊ธธ๋งˆ์ € ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ํ˜๋—๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋™์ž‘์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ๋ถˆํŽธํ•ด์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ„์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ํ›‘๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๋„ค๊ฐ€ ๋งํ–ˆ๋˜ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€์‚ฌ๊ฐ€ ์„ค๋งˆ ์ด ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด์•ผ?โ€ โ€œ๋งž์•„. ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์–ด๋ฆด ๋•Œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ํ• ์•„๋ฒ„์ง€ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€๋ฅผ ๋ฐฐ์› ๋Œ€. ์†œ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์—„์ฒญ ์ข‹์•„.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง์„ ๋งˆ์น˜์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๊นŒ ๋ฏธ์ฒ˜ ๋งํ•˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ๊ฐ€ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ์™€ ์ฒ™์ถ”๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด์„œ์š”. ๊ฐ€๋” ๊ฐ€์Šด๋„ ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๋Œ€์š”. ์›๋ž˜๋Š” ํ•œ์˜์‚ฌ๋ฅผ ๋ถˆ๋Ÿฌ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ ์ข€ ๋ฐ›๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ๋งˆ์นจ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ์ค„ ์•Œ์ž–์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์„œ ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋ฐ›์•„๋ณด๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ โ€˜๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑฐ์˜€๊ตฐ.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹จ๋ฒˆ์— ์Šน๋‚™ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•๊ณผ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์ด๊ณณ์—์„œ ๋จธ๋ฌผ๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์ฃผ๊ณ  ์ผ์ž๋ฆฌ๋„ ์•Œ์•„๋ด ์คฌ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์ผ ์ •๋„์•ผ ๋‹น์—ฐํžˆ ๋„์™€์•ผ์ง€.โ€™ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šด์ง€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋ฅผ ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋Œ๊ณ  ๊ฐ”๋‹ค. โ€œ์ด๊ฑด ์ข€ ์•„๋‹ˆ์ง€ ์•Š๋‚˜? ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ Š์€๋ฐ?โ€ โ€œ์ Š์€ ๊ฒŒ ๋ญ ์–ด๋•Œ์„œ? ์ Š์„์ˆ˜๋ก ์ข‹์€ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ? ์ Š์–ด์•ผ ํž˜์ด ์ข‹๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ๋„ˆ ๊ฐ™์€ ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ํŽธํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ชจ์‹ค ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์ž–์•„.โ€ โ€œ๋ฌด์Šจ ํ—›์†Œ๋ฆฌํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์•ผ. ๋‚˜ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฑฐ๋“ .โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์„ ๋ถ‰ํ˜”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์‹ฑ๊ธ‹ ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋†๋‹ด์ด์•ผ. ๋„ค๊ฐ€ ๊ทธ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๊ทธ๋ ‡์ง€. ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด๋ด, ๋„ค ๋‚จํŽธ ๋ฐ˜๋…„ ๋™์•ˆ ์ง‘์— ์•ˆ ์™”๋Š”๋ฐ, ๊ทธ๋™์•ˆ ํ•˜๊ณ  ์‹ถ์ง€ ์•Š์•˜์–ด?โ€ โ€œ๋„ˆ ๊ณ„์† ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๊ฐ„๋‹ค?โ€ ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ท€๊นŒ์ง€ ๋นจ๊ฐœ์ง„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋ผ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•Œ์•˜์–ด. ์•ˆ ๋†€๋ฆด๊ฒŒ. ๋„ˆ๋Š” ์ ์ž–๊ณ  ์šฐ์•„ํ•œ ๊ท€๋ถ€์ธ์ด์•ผ. ๋์ง€? ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์†œ์”จ ์—„์ฒญ ์ข‹์•„. ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ํ•ด๋ด. ์ Š๊ณ  ์ž˜์ƒ๊ธด ๋‚จ์ž๊ฐ€ ๋ฐ–์— ์žˆ๋Š” ๋Š™์€ ์˜๊ฐ๋ณด๋‹ค์•ผ ๋‚ซ์ง€ ์•Š๊ฒ ์–ด?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ์ผ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ƒ๊ฐํ–ˆ๋Š”์ง€ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์˜†์— ์žˆ์–ด ์ค˜. ์•ˆ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ์–ด์ƒ‰ํ•  ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•„.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๊ฐ™์ด ์žˆ์–ด ์ค„๊ฒŒ.โ€ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋™์•ˆ ์†Œ๊ณค๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ๊ทธ์ œ์•ผ ๋‚ด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋”๋Ÿฌ ๋จผ์ € ์‹œ๋ฒ” ๋ณด์—ฌ๋‹ฌ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•˜์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ตฐ๋ง ์—†์ด ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์—Ž๋“œ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์˜†์— ์•‰์•„ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€๋ฅผ ํ•˜๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ฝœ๋ผ๋ณ‘ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ์†Œ์œ ํ•œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋Š” ๋™๊ทธ๋ž—๊ณ  ๋ณผ๋กํ•ด ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ๋•Œ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์‹ถ๋‹ค๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ, ์–ด๋•Œ? ์‹œ์›ํ•ด?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‹น์—ฐํ•˜์ง€, ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์‹œ์›ํ•˜๊ธฐ๋Š” ์˜ค๋žœ๋งŒ์ด์•ผ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋‚ฎ์€ ์‹ ์Œ์†Œ๋ฆฌ์— ๋‚˜์™€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ํ™”๋ˆ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ํ„ฐ์งˆ ๊ฒƒ ๊ฐ™์•„ ๊ดด๋กœ์›Œํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ๋ถ€์ž์—ฐ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฝ‰ ๋ชจ์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ๋์–ด, ์• ๊ต์•ผ. ์ด์ œ ๋„ค ์ฐจ๋ก€์•ผ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์†ŒํŒŒ์—์„œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ์—๊ฒŒ ๋ฌผ์„ ๋”ฐ๋ผ์ฃผ์ž, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์›Œํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ๋ˆ•๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ์— ๋‹ด์š”๋ฅผ ๋ฎ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์ฏง, ์˜ˆ์œ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€๋ฆฌ๋‹ค๋‹ˆ, ์•„์‰ฝ๋„ค.โ€™ ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์•„๋ฌด๋ฆฌ ๋ฎ๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ•ด๋„ ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ๋ชธ๋งค๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€๋ฆด ์ˆ˜๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ๋ฅธ ์ฒดํ˜•์ด์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๋ฐ ๋‚˜์˜ค๊ณ  ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐˆ ๋ฐ ๋“ค์–ด๊ฐ„ ๋ฐ๋‹ค ์–ผ๊ตด๊นŒ์ง€ ๋™์•ˆ์ด๋ผ ๋ˆˆ๊ธธ์„ ๋” ๋Œ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์†์„ ์–ด๊นจ์— ๋Œ€์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ์ด ๋ปฃ๋ปฃํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ตณ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๋ผ ๋ญ˜ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋‹ค์ง€๋งŒ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋Š” ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„? ๊ฒŒ๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ์˜ค๋žซ๋™์•ˆ ์ง‘์„ ๋น„์› ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ ์—„์ฒญ ์™ธ๋กœ์šธ ๊ฑฐ์•ผ.โ€™ โ€œ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ์‹œ์›ํ•ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์‘.โ€ ๋‚ด ๋ฌผ์Œ์— ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šด ๋“ฏ ๋‚ฎ๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ๋Œ€๋‹ต์„ ๋“ค์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋”์šฑ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•ด์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋” ์‹œ์›ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋“ฑ์„ ํƒ€๊ณ  ๋‘ ์†์„ ์ ์  ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ์›€์ง์˜€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ชธ์„ ๋ถ€๋ฅด๋ฅด ๋–จ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ง€๊ธˆ ๋ญ ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”?โ€ โ€œํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์‹œํฐ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฐ๋‹ค๋ฉด์„œ์š”? ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์ข€ ์ฃผ๋ฌผ๋Ÿฌ ์ฃผ๋ ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ ์‚ด์ง ๊ฒ์„ ๋จน์€ ์ฑ„ ๋งํ–ˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌต์ธ์„ ์–ป์ž ๋‚ด ์†์€ ๋‹ค์‹œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ ์œ„๋กœ ์˜ฌ๋ผ๊ฐ€ ๊พน๊พน ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋งค์šฐ ๊ฐ€๋Š˜์–ด ํ•œ ์†์— ์žกํž ์ •๋„์˜€๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋Š” ๊ทธ์— ๋น„ํ•ด ํฌ๊ณ  ํ†ตํ†ตํ•œ ์• ํ”Œํž™์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์–ด๊นจ๋Š” ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋ฌธ์ œ์—†์–ด์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ์— ๋ฌธ์ œ๊ฐ€ ๋งŽ์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค? ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์™œ์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ถˆ์•ˆํ•œ ๋“ฏ ๋ฌป๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•ด์š”. ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•˜๋ฉด ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์‹ ์žฅ์€ ๋ณดํ†ต ๋‚จ์žํ•œํ…Œ ์ค‘์š”ํ•œ ๊ฑฐ์ž–์•„์š”. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฌ์ž๋ผ์„œ ํฌ๊ฒŒ ์ƒ๊ด€์—†๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”?โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์˜คํ•ด์˜ˆ์š”. ๋‚จ์ž๋“  ์—ฌ์ž๋“  ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ๋‘ ๊ฐœ์ธ ๊ฑด ๋˜‘๊ฐ™์ž–์•„์š”. ๋ณดํ†ต ์‹ ์žฅํ•˜๋ฉด ๋‚จ์„ฑ ๊ธฐ๋Šฅ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜๋Š”๋ฐ, ์—ฌ์ž๋„ ๊ธฐํ˜ˆ์ด ๋ถ€์กฑํ•˜๋ฉด ์‹ ์žฅ์ด ์•ฝํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด์š”. ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ์–ผ๊ตด์ƒ‰์ด ์ฐฝ๋ฐฑํ•œ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๊ธฐํ˜ˆ์ด ๋ถ€์กฑํ•ด์„œ ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”. ์ด๊ฑธ ์žฅ๊ธฐ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ฐฉ์น˜ํ•˜๋ฉด ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋ฌธ์ œ๊ฐ€ ์ƒ๊ธฐ๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์–ด๋–กํ•ด์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์˜์‹์ ์œผ๋กœ ๋ฌป์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ์”ฉ ์ž…๊ผฌ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์˜ฌ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ์ง€๊ธˆ์€ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์‹ฌ๊ฐํ•œ ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ํ•œ๋™์•ˆ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋ฉด ๋‚˜์„ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์–ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค˜์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋”ฐ๋ผ ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ์†์„ ๋‚ด๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ์ด ๋ปฃ๋ปฃํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ตณ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ–‰๋™ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด ์†์€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์—‰๋ฉ์ด๋ฅผ ์Šค์น˜๋ฉฐ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ฎ๊ณ  ์žˆ๋˜ ๋‹ด์š”๋ฅผ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๊ฑท์–ด๋ƒˆ๋‹ค. ๋ฐฑ์˜ฅ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์ƒˆํ•˜์–€ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์—ญ์‹œ๋‚˜ ์˜ˆ์ˆ ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์„ ์ ์  ์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ๋‚ด๋ ค ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฐœ์„ ์ฅ๊ณ  ๋ฐœ๋ฐ”๋‹ฅ ํ˜ˆ ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊พน๊พน ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์ž ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์‹ ์Œ์„ ๋‚ด๋”๋‹ˆ ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์› ๋Š”์ง€ ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ์ƒˆ๋นจ๊ฐœ์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฐ€์œ ํ˜ธํก์„ ๊ฐ€๋‹ค๋“ฌ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”, ๊ณ„์†ํ•ด์š”.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ„์†ํ•ด์„œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฐœ๋ฐ”๋‹ฅ์„ ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ค ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์น˜๋งˆ ์†์„ ํ›”์ณ๋ดค๋Š”๋ฐ ์•„์‰ฝ๊ฒŒ๋„ ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๊ฝ‰ ๋ชจ์œผ๊ณ  ์žˆ๋Š” ํƒ“์— ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ณผ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋™์•ˆ ๋ˆ„๋ฅด๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งŒ์กฑ์Šค๋Ÿฝ์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์š”๊ตฌํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ํ˜น์‹œ ํ‰์†Œ์— ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”? ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๋ฌด์˜์‹์ ์œผ๋กœ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ์Šฌ์ฉ ์Šค์ณ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€˜์ €๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋ˆ„๋ฅผ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ๋‹ค๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ?โ€™ ๊ฑฐ์ ˆ๋‹นํ• ๊นŒ ๋ด ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ–ˆ๋˜ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ๋ฌด์ƒ‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋™์˜ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ญ, ๊ทธ๋ž˜์š”.โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ํฅ๋ถ„ํ•œ ๋‚˜๋จธ์ง€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์˜์ž๋ฅผ ์†ŒํŒŒ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋” ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ถ™์ด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ˆ„๋‚˜, ๋ฐ˜๋“ฏํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ„์›Œ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ ๋ถ„๊ณ ๋ถ„ ๋’ค๋Œ์•„ ์†ŒํŒŒ ์œ„์— ๋ฐ˜๋“ฏํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋ˆ„์› ๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๊ฒƒ๋ณด๋‹ค ์ž‘์•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋ด‰๊ธ‹ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ์†Ÿ์•˜๋‹ค. ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์—ฌ์ž ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋งŒ์ ธ ๋ณธ ์  ์—†์–ด ์ž”๋œฉ ๊ธด์žฅํ•œ ์ฑ„๋กœ ์†์„ ๋ป—์œผ๋ ค๋Š” ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ค์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์–ด๋จธ, ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์ง„๋„ ๋น ๋ฅด๋„ค.โ€ ์ œ3ํ™” ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์น˜ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“์„ ํ•œ ์–ด๋ฆฐ์• ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์—ฌ๊ธด ์–ด์ฉ ์ผ์ด์—์š”?โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ์ž˜๋ชป์„ ์ €์ง€๋ฅธ ๊ฒƒ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ฒŒ๋–ก ์ž๋ฆฌ์—์„œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ์–‘ ๋ณผ์€ ์–ด๋А์ƒˆ ์‚ฌ๊ณผ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋ฌด๋ฅด์ต์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํƒœ์—ฐ์•„, ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ. ๋‚˜๋ž‘ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ์•„๋ฌด ์ผ๋„ ์—†์—ˆ์–ด. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•ด์„œ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•ด ์ค€ ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ด์•ผ.โ€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๊ตฌ๊ตฌ์ ˆ์ ˆ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•˜์ž ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ํ”ผ์‹ ์›ƒ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ญ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•œ ๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹Œ๋ฐ, ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ธด์žฅํ•ด? ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ฉด ๋‚˜ ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์ •๋ง ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“์ด๋ผ๋„ ํ–ˆ์–ด?โ€ ๋‚˜์™€ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ๋™์‹œ์— ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ €์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ์™€ ๋™์‹œ์— ๋‹นํ˜น์Šค๋Ÿฌ์› ๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ฐํžˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜๋‹ค๋‹ˆ, ๋งŒ์•ฝ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ์•Œ๋ฉด ๋ถ„๋ช… ์ซ“์•„๋‚ผ ๊ฑฐ์•ผ.โ€™ ๊ทธ๋•Œ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ์•ˆ์ ˆ๋ถ€์ ˆ๋ชปํ•˜๋”๋‹ˆ ์ผ์ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ํ•‘๊ณ„๋กœ ์„œ๋‘˜๋Ÿฌ ์ง‘์„ ๋‚˜๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋’ท๋ชจ์Šต์„ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋ฉํ•ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๊ฐ€ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋’ค์— ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ™์•„์š”?โ€ โ€œ๋„ค?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ํ•œํ…Œ์„œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์งˆ๋ฌธ์„ ๋ฐ›์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ํ˜ผ๋ž€์Šค๋Ÿฌ์›Œ ๋ง๊นŒ์ง€ ๋”๋“ฌ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ข‹์ฃ . ์˜ˆ์˜๊ณ  ๋ชธ๋งค๋„ ์ข‹๊ณ  ์„ฑ๊ฒฉ๋„ ์ข‹์ž–์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ๋‚ด ์นœ๊ตฌ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•˜๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋Ÿด ์˜ํ–ฅ ์žˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋†€๋ผ์›€์„ ๊ฐ์ถœ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋งˆ์Œ๋„ ํ˜ผ๋ž€์Šค๋Ÿฌ์›Œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋ง์„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ํ•ด๋ณด๋ ค๋˜ ๊ฑธ ๋ฐœ๊ฒฌํ•˜๊ณ  ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ๋– ๋ณด๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์ผ๊นŒ ๋ด ๊ฑฑ์ •๋˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ธด์žฅํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํŒ”์„ ์žก์œผ๋ฉฐ ์†๋“ฑ์„ ํ†กํ†ก ๋‘๋“œ๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ธด์žฅํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด ๋ผ์š”.โ€ โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์ € ๋‚œ์ฒ˜ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ํ•˜์ง€ ๋งˆ์„ธ์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ์นœ๊ตฌ์ธ๋ฐ ์ œ๊ฐ€ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๊ฐํžˆ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋งˆ์Œ์„ ํ’ˆ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ๊ฐํžˆ๋ผ๊ณ ์š”? ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋‹จ๋‹จํ•ด์กŒ์œผ๋ฉด์„œ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ํ˜๊ธ‹๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ชฝํŒ”๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•ด ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ˆ™์˜€๋‹ค. โ€œ์™€, ์‚ฌ์ด์ฆˆ ๋ณดํ†ต ์•„๋‹ˆ๋„ค์š”.โ€ ๋‚ด ์ฐฉ๊ฐ์ผ์ง€ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์œผ๋‚˜ ๋‚ด ์•„๋ž˜๋ฅผ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ๋ณ€ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ง์„ ์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜ ๋†๋‹ด ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”. ์• ๊ต์™€ ์ž ์ž๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์š”. ํ˜• ๋„์™€์ฃผ๋Š” ์…ˆ ์น˜๊ณ .โ€ โ€˜๋ญ์ง€? ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ์ž๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ํ˜•๊ณผ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ด€์ด์ง€?โ€™ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์•‰ํžˆ๋”๋‹ˆ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•˜๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ ํšŒ์‚ฌ์™€ ์• ๊ต์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ํ˜„์žฌ ์‚ฌ์—… ํŒŒํŠธ๋„ˆ๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋ฐ–์— ์• ์ธ์ด ์žˆ๋Š”๋ฐ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จํ•œํ…Œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์„ ์ฐพ์•„ ์ž๊ธฐ ์•„๋‚ด ๊ผฌ์…”๋‹ฌ๋ผ๊ณ  ๋ถ€ํƒํ–ˆ๋Œ€์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ์ดํ˜ผํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ. ์ด์ œ ์•Œ๊ฒ ์ฃ ?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฐ์‹  ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. ์•Œ์•„๋“ค์€ ๊ฑด ํ™•์‹คํ•˜๋‚˜ ์ดํ•ด๊ฐ€ ๋˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์˜ˆ์œ ์—ฌ์ž๋ฅผ ๋‘๊ณ  ๊ทธ ๋‚จํŽธ์€ ์™œ ๋ฐ”๋žŒํ”ผ์šฐ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์ง€?โ€™ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊นŠ์€ ์ƒ๊ฐ์— ๋น ์ ธ ์žˆ์„ ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ํ—ˆ๋ฒ…์ง€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์ง‘์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ํ•ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„!โ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•„ํŒŒ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ๋น„๋ช…์„ ์ง€๋ฅด๋ฉฐ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฐ์‹  ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ์ €์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์•„์นจ์— ํ•œ ๋ง ๊ธฐ์–ตํ•ด์š”? ๋‚จ์ž์˜ ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์ •ํ™•ํ•œ ๊ณณ์— ์จ์•ผ ํ•ด์š”. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋‚จํŽธ์ด ๋ฐ˜๋…„ ๋™์•ˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ์†๋ ํ•˜๋‚˜ ๋Œ€์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋Œ€์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์กฐ๊ธˆ๋งŒ ์†์“ฐ๋ฉด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋„˜์–ด์˜ฌ ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์—ฌ์ž์™€ ์ž๋ณธ ์  ์—†์ฃ ? ์ด๋ฒˆ์ด ๊ธฐํšŒ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์„ ๋“ค์„์ˆ˜๋ก ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ์•„๋žซ๋ฐฐ์— ์—ด๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ๋ชฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿฌ์šฐ๋ฉด์„œ๋„ ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•œ ๋ถ€ํƒ์ด๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ๋‹ค. ๋งŒ์•ฝ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์˜ ๋ถ€ํƒ์ด๋ผ๋ฉด ๊ทธ๋‚˜๋งˆ ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•˜์„ ํ…๋ฐ. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๊ฟˆ์ฉ๋„ ํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์ž ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์˜†์œผ๋กœ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์€์€ํ•œ ํ–ฅ๊ธฐ๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ์ฝ”๋์„ ๊ฐ„์ง€๋Ÿฝํ˜”๋‹ค. ์ „์— ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ฐ€๊นŒ์ด ์•‰์€ ์  ์—†๋Š”๋ฐ, ์ง€๊ธˆ์€ ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ์˜จ๋„๊นŒ์ง€ ๋А๊ปด์งˆ ์ •๋„๋ผ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฝฉ๋‹ฅ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ํ•œํŽธ ๊ธด์žฅํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œ์š”? ๊ฑฑ์ •๋ผ์š”?โ€ ์กฐ์‹ฌ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋ฌป๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ•„์‚ฌ์ ์œผ๋กœ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€๋‹ค. ์ด๊ฑด ๋ฌด์„œ์šด ์ •๋„๊ฐ€ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ์•„์ฃผ ๊ฒ์ด ๋‚˜ ๋ฏธ์น  ์ง€๊ฒฝ์ด๋‹ค. ์—ฌ์ž ์นœ๊ตฌ๋„ ์‚ฌ๊ท€์–ด ๋ณธ ์  ์—†๋Š” ๋‚˜๋”๋Ÿฌ ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋ผ๋‹ˆ. ๋ฌด์„ญ์ง€ ์•Š์„ ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‹ค์‹œ ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋‚ด ์†์„ ์žก์œผ๋ฉฐ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ๋“ค์€ ์  ์—†๋Š” ๋ถ€๋“œ๋Ÿฌ์šด ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ•  ๊ฑฐ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ƒ๋Œ€๋Š” ์™ธ๋กœ์šด ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ผ ๋งˆ์Œ๊ป ๊ผฌ์…”๋„ ๋ผ์š”. ์œ ๋ถ€๋…€๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์‹œ๋Š” ๊ฐ€์žฅ ํšจ๊ณผ์ ์ธ ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์ด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ์„ฑ์š•์„ ์ž๊ทนํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ โ€œ์„ฑ์š•์ด ํ•œ๋ฒˆ ๋“์–ด์˜ค๋ฅด๋ฉด ๋์ด ์—†๊ฑฐ๋“ ์š”. ๊ทธ๋•Œ๊ฐ€ ๋˜๋ฉด ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•ˆ ํ•ด๋„ ๋ชจ๋“  ์ผ์ด ํ’€๋ฆด ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์•Œ์•˜์–ด์š”?โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฑด์„ฑ์œผ๋กœ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ๋„๋•์˜€์ง€๋งŒ ์ƒ๊ฐ์€ ์ด๋ฏธ ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๋ฐ๋กœ ๋‚ ์•„๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๋จธ๋ฆฟ์†์—๋Š” ์•„์นจ์— ๋“ค์€ ์žฅ๋ฉด์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๊ณ , ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์˜ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ๋งคํ˜น์ ์ผ์ง€ ์ƒ์ƒํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณด๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜ ์ปค์š”?โ€ ๊ฐ‘์ž‘์Šค๋Ÿฌ์šด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ฌผ์Œ์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”์ง ๊ธด์žฅํ–ˆ๊ณ , ์ž…์ด ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋ง๋ผ ๋„‹์„ ์žƒ์€ ๋“ฏ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ โ€œ๋งŒ์ง€๊ณ  ์‹ถ์–ด์š”?โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ํ”ผ๊ฐ€ ๊ฑฐ๊พธ๋กœ ์†Ÿ๋Š” ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด ๋“ค์—ˆ๊ณ  ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์œ™์œ™ ์šธ๋ ค ์•„๋ฌด ๋ง๋„ ํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚ด ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™€ ๊ฐ€์Šด์„ ๋‚ด ๋ชธ์— ๋ˆŒ๋ €๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„, ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ฐ”๋ณด๋ผ๋„ ๋œ ๊ฒƒ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ์˜จํ†ต ๋ฐฑ์ง€์žฅ์ด ๋˜์–ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๊ณ  ์‹ถ์œผ๋ฉด ์‹ถ์€ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ . ๋ฏผ๋งํ•ดํ•  ๊ฑฐ ๋ญ ์žˆ์–ด์š”? ์ด๊ฑด ์ธ๊ฐ„์˜ ๋ณธ๋Šฅ์ ์ธ ์š•๊ตฌ์˜ˆ์š”. ํ’€ ๋•Œ๋Š” ํ’€์–ด์•ผ ํ•œ๋‹ค๊ณ ์š”.โ€ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐธ์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜๊ณ  ์ด๋ฅผ ์•…๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๋งŒ์ง€๊ณ  ์‹ถ์–ด์š”. ๊ทธ๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„์ฃผ ๋งŽ์•„.โ€ โ€œํ•˜ํ•˜ํ•˜, ์ž˜ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”. ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์‹œํ‚ค๋Š” ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ•ด ๋ด์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ๋ฌด์„œ์šธ ๊ฑฐ ์—†์ž–์•„์š”. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๊ทธ ์š•๊ตฌ๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ํ’€์–ด์š”. ํ˜•์ˆ˜์ธ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ. ์•Œ๊ฒ ์–ด์š”?โ€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ธฐ๋ถ„์ด ๋‚˜๋ฝ์œผ๋กœ ๋–จ์–ด์กŒ๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚œ ๋˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ชธ ๋ฐ”์น˜๋ ค ํ•˜๋Š” ์ค„ ์•Œ์•˜๋Š”๋ฐ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ดํ•ด์ง€๋Š”์ง€ ๊ฐ€๋ฅด์ณ์ฃผ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€์ž–์•„.โ€™ โ€˜ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์˜คํžˆ๋ ค ์ข‹์•„. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋งŒ์•ฝ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ฌด์Šจ ์ผ์ด๋ผ๋„ ์ƒ๊ธฐ๋ฉด ํ˜•ํ•œํ…Œ ๋ฏธ์•ˆํ•ด์„œ ์–ด๋–กํ•ด?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋” ์ด์ƒ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด ๋ฐฐ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํ”„๋‹ค๋Š” ํ•‘๊ณ„๋ฅผ ๋Œ€๊ณ  ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค๋กœ ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋„์™€ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ๋•Œ๋ถ€ํ„ฐ ์ฐธ๊ธฐ ํž˜๋“ค์—ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ฑด๋“œ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ๊นŒ์ง€ ํ•˜๋‹ˆ ์•„๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ํ„ฐ์งˆ ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌผ๋ก  ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์†์žฅ๋‚œ๋„ ์ ๋‹นํžˆ ํ•˜๋ฉด ๋ชธ์— ์ข‹๊ณ  ์ง€๋‚˜์น˜๋ฉด ๋ชธ์ด ์ƒํ•œ๋‹ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์ง€๋งŒ, ์ด ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋” ์ด์ƒ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋œป๋ฐ–์—๋„ ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›”์„ ์˜ฌ๋ ค๋†“๋Š” ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„์—์„œ ์—ฌ์ž ํŒฌํ‹ฐ ํ•œ ์žฅ์„ ๋ฐœ๊ฒฌํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊นŠ์ด ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„๋„ ์•Œ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ์˜ ์ฃผ์ธ์ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฑธ. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ทธ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ง์•„์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ์ˆ˜์—†์ด ๊ณ ๋ฏผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์ด๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์„ ๊ฐ๊ณ  ๋งˆ์Œ์„ ์ง„์ •ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ์œผ๋‚˜, ํ•˜ํ•„์ด๋ฉด ๋จธ๋ฆฟ์†์— ์•„์นจ์— ๋ดค๋˜ ์žฅ๋ฉด์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋งˆ์Œ์†์—์„œ ์•…๋งˆ์˜ ์†์‚ญ์ž„์ด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ ํ˜นํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์†์žฅ๋‚œํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ธ๋ฐ, ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„. ์ด๊ฑด ์‰ฝ๊ฒŒ ์–ป์„ ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ๊ธฐํšŒ๋ผ๊ณ , ๋†“์น˜๋ฉด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ๋Š” ๊ธฐํšŒ๋„ ์—†์–ด.โ€™ ๊ฒฐ๊ตญ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ ์†์‚ญ์ž„์— ๋„˜์–ด๊ฐ€ ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ํ–ฅํ•ด ์†์„ ๋ป—์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ œ4ํ™” ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋Š” ๋ถ€๋“œ๋Ÿฝ๊ณ  ๋‚˜๋ฅธํ•œ ๋ฐ๋‹ค ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ƒ„์ƒˆ๊นŒ์ง€ ๋ฐฐ์–ด ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์†์— ๊ฐ๊ฐ์ด ๋А๊ปด์ง€์ž ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์•„์นจ์— ๋ชฐ๋ž˜ ์—ฟ๋“ค์—ˆ๋˜ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋‡Œ๋ฆฌ์— ์žฌ์ƒ๋˜๋ฉฐ ์ ์ฐจ ํฅ๋ถ„๋˜์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ๋ญ˜ ์ง„์งœ๋กœ ํ•  ์ˆ˜๋Š” ์—†์ง€๋งŒ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋กœ ์ƒ์ƒํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑด ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์ž–์•„.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์ค‘์–ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฉฐ ๋ฒจํŠธ๋ฅผ ํ’€๊ณ  ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ€์–ด ๋„ฃ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚ด ์†์ด ์•„๋ž˜์— ๋‹ฟ์œผ๋ ค ํ•  ๋•Œ ๋…ธํฌ ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ๋“ค๋ ธ๊ณ , ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋†€๋ž€ ๋‚˜๋จธ์ง€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Œ€๋กœ ๋ฟœ์„ ๋ป”ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์ง‘์— ๋‚˜์™€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋‘˜๋ฟ์ด๋‹ˆ ๋…ธํฌํ•œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜์ด๊ฒ ์ง€?โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์„œ๋‘˜๋Ÿฌ ๊ทธ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊บผ๋‚ด ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›” ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„์— ์˜ฌ๋ ค๋‹ค ๋†“๊ณ  ๋‚˜์„œ ์กฐ์‹ฌ์Šค๋Ÿฝ๊ฒŒ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์™œ ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ์„ธ์š”?โ€ โ€œ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ, ์•ˆ์—์„œ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“ ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€˜์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ง์„ ๋ฌป๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ ?โ€™ โ€œ๋„ค? ์•„, ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ฐ”๋ ค์„œ ๋ง์„ ๋”๋“ฌ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋–จ์–ด์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํ•œ๋งˆ๋””์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ์ฒ ๋ ํ•ด ์‹์€๋•€์„ ์ค„์ค„ ํ˜๋ ธ๋‹ค. โ€˜ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์•„๋ฌด๋ฆฌ ๊ฐœ๋ฐฉ์ ์ด๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•ด๋„ ๋ณธ์ธ๊ณผ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์•ˆ ๋œ๋‹ค๊ณ  ๋ช…ํ™•ํžˆ ๋งํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ๋งŒ์•ฝ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ€์ง€๊ณ  ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์ง“์„ ํ•œ ๊ฑธ ๋“คํ‚ค๋ฉด ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ณธ์ธ ๋ง์„ ์•ˆ ๋“ฃ๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ  ์ƒ๊ฐํ•ด ์ซ“์•„๋‚ด๋ฉด ์–ด๋–กํ•˜์ง€?โ€™ ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด ์ƒํ™ฉ์„ ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์„ค๋ช…ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์• ์จ ์„ค๋ช…ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ •๋ง ์•„๋ฌด๊ฒƒ๋„ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”. ๋ฐฐ๊ฐ€ ์•„ํŒŒ์„œ ์‹์€๋•€์ด ๋‚œ ๊ฒƒ๋ฟ์ด์—์š”.โ€ โ€œ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์‹์€๋•€์ด ์™œ ๋‚˜์š”? ํ˜น์‹œ ์–ด๋”” ์•„ํŒŒ์š”?โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์ด๋‚ด ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ฑฑ์ •ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์–ด์š”. ๊ทธ๋ƒฅ ์ข€ ๋ถˆํŽธํ•ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋ฌธ ์ข€ ์—ด์–ด๋ด์š”. ์–ด๋”” ๋ด๋ด์š”.โ€ โ€œ์ด, ์ด์ œ ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์•„์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋‚ด์™ธํ•  ๊ฑฐ ๋ญ ์žˆ์–ด์š”? ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์—๋Š” ์•„์ง ์• ์˜ˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ๋ฌธ ์—ด์–ด์š”.โ€ ๊ทธ ๋ง์„ ๋“ค์€ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์‹ค๋ง๊ฐ์ด ํœ˜๋ชฐ์•„์ณค๋‹ค. โ€˜๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜ ๋ˆˆ์— ๊ณ ์ž‘ ์• ์˜€๋‹ค๋‹ˆ. ์–ด์ฉ์ง€ ๋‚ด ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ฑฐ์นจ์—†๋”๋ผ๋‹ˆ. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ๋„ ์ƒ๊ฐํ•˜์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‚˜ ๋ณด๋„ค.โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ˆ™์—ฌ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค ๋ฌธ์„ ์—ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋“ค์–ด์˜ค์ž๋งˆ์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๋ณด๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ๋ชฉ์š• ํƒ€์›”์„ ๋†“์€ ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์œ„๋ฅผ ํ™•์ธํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์ฐ”๋ ค ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ์„ ๋งˆ์ฃผ์น  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋•Œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์„ ๋ฐ˜ ์ชฝ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฑธ์–ด๊ฐ€๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜น์‹œ ๋‚ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ ๊ฑด๋“œ๋ ธ์–ด์š”?โ€ โ€œ์•„, ์•„๋‹ˆ์š”.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค๊ธ‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๊ณ ๊ฐœ๋ฅผ ํ”๋“ค์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์ •๋ง์ด์—์š”? ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ์–ผ๊ตด์€ ์™œ ๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋นจ๊ฐœ์š”? ์†”์งํžˆ ๋งํ•ด์š”. ๋ฐฉ๊ธˆ ๋‚ด ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋กœ ๋‚˜์œ ์ง“ ํ•˜๋ ค๊ณ  ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฐฉํ•ดํ•œ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ ? ๊ทธ๋ž˜์„œ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋“ค์–ด์˜ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ๋ฌด์„œ์›Œํ–ˆ๋˜ ๊ฑฐ๊ณ ?โ€ โ€˜๋ญ์•ผ? ์ฒœ๋ฆฌ์•ˆ์ด๋ผ๋„ ์ง€๋…”๋‚˜? ์–ด๋–ป๊ฒŒ ์ €๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๊ท€์‹ ๊ฐ™์ด ๋‹ค ์•Œ์ง€?โ€™ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์œ„์•„๋ž˜๋กœ ํ›‘๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๊ตฌ๋ถ€๋ฆฐ ์ฑ„ ์ผ์–ด๋‚˜์ง€ ๋ชปํ•˜์ž ์˜์‹ฌ์˜ ๋ˆˆ์ดˆ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ดค๋‹ค. โ€œ๋˜‘๋ฐ”๋กœ ์„œ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์ง€๊ทธ์‹œ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ช…์„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ด๊ธธ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ชธ์„ ๊ณง๊ฒŒ ํŽธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚œ๊ฐํ•œ ์ƒํƒœ์ธ ๊ฒƒ์ด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ๋“ค์ผœ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋„ ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณธ ๊ฒŒ ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ˆˆ์„ ๊ฐ๊ณ  ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ์„ ํ”ผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๋‚ด ์•ž์— ๋ฌด๋ฆŽ์„ ๊ฟ‡๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ๊ณ ์Šค๋ž€ํžˆ ๋А๊ปด์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ํŠ€์–ด๋‚˜์˜ฌ ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ๋ฌธ์ œ๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ญ˜ ํ•˜๋ ค๋Š”์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ผ ๋„์ €ํžˆ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€๋‹ค. ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์•ผ๋ฆ‡ํ•œ ์ž์„ธ์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์ €๋„ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒŒ ์ด๋Ÿฐ์ €๋Ÿฐ ์ƒ์ƒ์„ ํ•˜๋ฉฐ ์ฒœ์ฒœํžˆ ๋ˆˆ์„ ๋–ด๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋žฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฉํ•˜๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋ฉฐ ๊ฐํƒ„ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๊ฒ ๋Š”๊ฐ€? โ€œ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์ด๋žฌ์œผ๋ฉด ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ์ข‹์„๊นŒ์š”?โ€ ๋™๊ฒฝ์ด ๊ฐ€๋“ํ•œ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์— ๋‚ด ๋จธ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋ฐฑ์ง€์žฅ์ด ๋˜์–ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๊ณ , ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ๋ฏธ์นœ ๋“ฏ์ด ์š”๋™์ณ ๋ฌด์Šจ ๋ง์„ ํ•ด์•ผ ํ• ์ง€ ๋ชฐ๋ž๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ๋ฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ํ•œ์ฐธ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‹ค์‹œ ์ผ์–ด๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ๋‚˜๋Š” ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์†์œผ๋กœ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์„ ๋ง‰์•˜๋‹ค. โ€œ์•„์ง์€ ์š•๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ํ’€์ง€ ๋งˆ์š”. ๊ทธ๋ž˜์•ผ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋ฅผ ๊ณต๋žตํ•  ๋™๋ ฅ์ด ์ƒ๊ธฐ์ฃ .โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋งํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ๋ฐ”์‹น ๋‹ค๊ฐ€์™”๋‹ค. โ€œ์‚ฌ์‹ค ๋‚˜ ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”. ์ด๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด ์•ˆ ๋˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋Š”๋ฐ ๋™์„ฑ ์”จ๋ฅผ ์œ„ํ•ด์„œ ์–ด์ฉ” ์ˆ˜ ์—†์–ด์š”. ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ถ€๋„๋Ÿผ์„ ํƒ€๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ์šฐ์„  ์ƒ๊ฐ์„ ์˜คํ”ˆํ•ด์•ผ์ฃ . ์† ์น˜์›Œ์š”. ๋‚˜๋„ ์‚ฐ์ „์ˆ˜์ „ ๊ฒช์€ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ธ๋ฐ, ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๊ฑธ ๋ชป ๊ฒช์–ด๋ดค์„๊นŒ์š”?โ€ โ€˜๊ทธ๋ž˜๋„ ์ด ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ•์€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‚จ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ๊ฑฐ ์•„๋‹Œ๊ฐ€? ๋ชฉ์ˆจ์ด ๋‚จ์•„๋‚˜์งˆ ์•Š๋Š”๋‹ค๊ณ .โ€™ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์†์œผ๋กœ ์•„์šฐ์„ฑ์ณค๋‹ค. โ€œ๋‚˜์™€์š”. ์• ๊ตํ•œํ…Œ ์ „ํ™”ํ•  ๊ฑฐ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ ๊ฐ™์ด ์‡ผํ•‘ํ•˜๋ฉด์„œ ๋‘ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ ์ด์–ด์ค„๊ฒŒ์š”. ์˜ค๋Š˜ ์• ๊ต๊ฐ€ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋ฅผ ์ง‘์— ์ดˆ๋Œ€ํ• ์ง€ ๊ธฐ๋Œ€๋˜๋„ค์š”. ์–ผ๋ฅธ ํ•ด๊ฒฐํ•ด์•ผ ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ ํ˜•๋„ค ํšŒ์‚ฌ๋„ ์–ผ๋ฅธ ์ œ์ž๋ฆฌ ์ฐพ์„ ์ˆ˜ ์žˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ์˜ˆ์š”.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ๋ง์„ ๋งˆ์น˜์ž๋งˆ์ž ํ—ˆ๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ํ”๋“ค๋ฉฐ ๋ฐ–์œผ๋กœ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ™€๋กœ ๋‚จ๊ฒจ์ง„ ๋‚˜ ์—ญ์‹œ ๊ทธ์ œ์•ผ ํ™”์žฅ์‹ค์—์„œ ๋А๋ฆฟ๋А๋ฆฟ ๊ฑธ์–ด ๋‚˜์™”์ง€๋งŒ, ์†์€ ์˜จํ†ต ๋•€์œผ๋กœ ์ –์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ์ฐธ๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ๋˜ ํƒ“์ด์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งค๋ฒˆ ์ด๋Ÿฐ ์‹์œผ๋กœ ์ž๊ทน๋‹นํ•˜๊ณ  ์ œ๋Œ€๋กœ ํ’€ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์œผ๋‹ˆ ๋ฏธ์น  ๊ฒƒ๋งŒ ๊ฐ™์•˜๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์„ ์œ„ํ•ด์„œ ์ฐธ์„ ์ˆ˜๋ฐ–์— ์—†๋‹ค. ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์†ŒํŒŒ์— ์•‰์•„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์—๊ฒŒ ์ „ํ™”ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œ์•ˆ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€๊ฒ ๋‹ค๊ณ ? ์™œ? ์•ˆ๋ผ, ๋‚˜๋ž‘ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€์ž. ์•ˆ ๋‚˜๊ฐ€๋ฉด ์ˆ˜ํ˜ธ ์”จ๋”๋Ÿฌ ๋„ˆ ์•ˆ์•„์„œ ๋‚ด๋ ค์˜ค๋ผ๊ณ  ํ•œ๋‹ค?โ€ โ€œ๋ญ? ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌดํ•˜๋‹ค๊ณ ? ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๋‚˜ ์›๋ž˜ ์ด๋ž˜. ์–ด๋–กํ•  ๊ฑด๋ฐ?โ€ โ€œ๊ทธ๋ž˜, ๊ทธ๋Ÿผ ์•ฝ์†ํ•œ ๊ฑฐ๋‹ค? 5๋ถ„ ๋’ท๋ฌธ ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ฆด๊ฒŒ.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์ „ํ™”๋ฅผ ๋Š์ž ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ–ฅํ•ด ์›ƒ์œผ๋ฉฐ ๋งํ–ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ•ด๊ฒฐํ–ˆ์–ด์š”. ๊ฐ€์„œ ์˜ท ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…์–ด์š”. ์ด๋”ฐ๊ฐ€ ์šด์ „ํ•ด์•ผ ํ•˜๋‹ˆ๊นŒ. ๊ธฐ์–ตํ•ด์š”, ์ž๊พธ ๋’ค์ชฝ์„ ๋ด์•ผ ํ•ด์š”, ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์„ ํ…Œ๋‹ˆ๊นŒ.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ณง๋ฐ”๋กœ ์˜ท ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋ฉด์„œ ๋‚ด์‹ฌ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๊ฐ€ ๋งํ•œ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ๋ญ˜๊นŒ ๊ธฐ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ์ด๋‚ด ์˜ท์„ ๊ฐˆ์•„์ž…๊ณ  ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ํ•จ๊ป˜ ๋ฌธ ์•ž์—์„œ ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋žฌ๋”๋‹ˆ ์–ผ๋งˆ ์ง€๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์™”๋‹ค. ๋ถ‰์€ ์›ํ”ผ์Šค๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ํ•˜์–€ ํ”ผ๋ถ€๋ฅผ ๋” ํฌ๊ฒŒ ๋งŒ๋“ค์—ˆ๊ณ , V๋„ฅ์ด๋ผ ๊ฐ€์Šด๊ณจ์ด ํ›คํžˆ ๋“œ๋Ÿฌ๋‚ฌ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ๋ณธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋„‹์„ ์žƒ๊ณ  ๋ง์•˜๋‹ค. โ€˜์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ๋ชธ๋งค๊ฐ€ ์ข‹์„ ์ค„์€ ์•Œ์•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์ด ์ •๋„์ผ ์ค„์ด์•ผ.โ€™ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ผ๋ถ€๋Ÿฌ ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ์„ ํ”ผํ•˜๋ฉฐ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ํŒ”์งฑ์„ ๋ผ๋”๋‹ˆ ๋‚ด ์•ž์œผ๋กœ ์ง€๋‚˜๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฐ ๋ฐ˜์‘์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ์†์ƒํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ์•„๊นŒ ๋งˆ์‚ฌ์ง€ํ•  ๋•Œ๋งŒ ํ•ด๋„ ๋ถ„๋ช… ์‚ด๊ฐ‘๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋Š”๋ฐ, ์™œ ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์ฐจ๊ฐ€์›Œ์กŒ๋Š”์ง€. ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ๋‚ด ๋ˆˆ๋„ ์•ˆ ๋งˆ์ฃผ์น˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋‹ค. โ€˜์„ค๋งˆ ๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ฌด๋ก€ํ•ด์„œ ํ™”๋‚ฌ๋‚˜?โ€™ ์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ๊ณ„๋‹จ์„ ๋‚ด๋ ค๊ฐ”๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์‚ฌ์ด ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜•์ˆ˜์™€ ์›ƒ๊ณ  ๋– ๋“ค์—ˆ์ง€๋งŒ ๋‚˜๋Š” ํ˜ผ์ž ๊ฟ”๋‹ค ๋†“์€ ๋ณด๋”ฐ๋ฆฌ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์˜†์— ๋ฉ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‹ˆ ์„œ ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฒŒ ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋‹ต๋‹ตํ•˜๊ณ  ๊ดด๋กœ์› ์ง€๋งŒ ์ฐจ์— ํƒ€์ž๋งˆ์ž ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ๋Œ์•„๋ณด๋ฉด ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ์žˆ์„ ๊ฑฐ๋ผ๋˜ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์ด ๋– ์˜ฌ๋ž๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์—‡์ธ์ง€ ๊ถ๊ธˆํ•˜์—ฌ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ณ„์† ๋ฐฑ๋ฏธ๋Ÿฌ๋กœ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ํž๋”๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ํ˜•์ˆ˜๋Š” ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ์›ƒ๊ณ  ๋– ๋“ค๊ธฐ๋งŒ ํ•  ๋ฟ, ๊ธฐ๋Œ€ํ–ˆ๋˜ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. โ€œํ˜•์ˆ˜๋‹˜, ์šฐ๋ฆฌ ์–ด๋”” ๊ฐ€์š”?โ€ ๊ธธ์„ ๋ฌผ์–ด๋ณธ๋‹ค๋Š” ๊ฑธ ํ•‘๊ณ„ ์‚ผ์•„ ๋˜ ํ•œ ๋ฒˆ ๋’ค๋Œ์•„๋ดค์ง€๋งŒ ์—ฌ์ „ํžˆ ์„œํ”„๋ผ์ด์ฆˆ๋Š” ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์™€ ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ๋งˆ์ฃผ์นœ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„, ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜์˜ ์–ผ๊ตด์ด ๋นจ๊ฐ›๊ฒŒ ๋‹ฌ์•„์˜ค๋ฅด๋”๋‹ˆ ์ด๋‚ด ์‹œ์„ ์„ ํ”ผํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋‹นํ™ฉํ•˜๊ณ  ์ดˆ์กฐํ•ดํ•˜๋Š” ๋ˆˆ๋น›์ด ํ‹€๋ฆผ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ๋‚ด ๊ฐ€์Šด์€ ์ฒ ๋  ๋‚ด๋ ค์•‰์•˜๋‹ค. ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋Š” ์ง€๊ธˆ ํ™”๋‚˜ ์žˆ๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹ˆ๋ผ ๋‚˜์™€ ์ธ์„ ์ด์–ด๊ฐˆ์ง€ ๊ณ ๋ฏผํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฑฐ์˜€๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์ธ์ง€ํ•˜์ž ๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ธฐ์จ์„ ์ฃผ์ฒดํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†์—ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๋„ ๋‚˜ํ•œํ…Œ ๋งˆ์Œ์ด ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ๋œป์ด์—ˆ์œผ๋‹ˆ. โ€œ๊ด‘ํ™”๋ฌธ ๊ด‘์žฅ์œผ๋กœ ๊ฐ€์š”.โ€ โ€œ๋„ค.โ€ ํ˜•์ˆ˜์˜ ๋ง์— ๋‚˜๋Š” ์งค๋ง‰ํ•˜๊ฒŒ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๊ณ ๋Š” ๊ณง์žฅ ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๊บผ๋‚ด ๊ธธ์„ ๊ฒ€์ƒ‰ํ•˜๊ณ ๋Š” ์‹œ๋™์„ ๊ฑธ์—ˆ๋‹ค. ์ฐจ๊ฐ€ ์ •์ฒด ๊ตฌ๊ฐ„์— ์ด๋ฅด์ž ์ข€์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์†๋„๊ฐ€ ๋‚˜์ง€ ์•Š์•„ ๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ค์‹œ ๋’ค๋ฅผ ํ˜๋”๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„ ์• ๊ต ๋ˆ„๋‚˜๊ฐ€ ํŒฌํ‹ฐ๋ฅผ ๋‚ด๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋ชจ์Šต์„ ๋ด๋ฒ„๋ ธ๋‹ค. LEARN_MORE https://operkn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11942&u ๋‚จ์„ฑ ์†Œ์„ค ๋ชจ์Œ https://www.facebook.com/61560317043692/ 135 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 operkn.com IMAGE https://operkn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11942&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/t39.35426-6/476384689_641689602136175_5527132392105574113_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2qdYdQdWANYQ7kNvgHJl_19&_nc_oc=AdhUgDSzDy0ieDb22chM-I6EpczaI_z_bZxYkpuWvwEh1SocZU2Ab-FeX9OzvMQUBbsvyVePXd42b3U0bHy78_Ln&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AawgtjS7w9dz3g7jjnK-Kzy&oh=00_AYB-1-yE2_0jmFNauN5PFQrXrPuDSLSTC45U1Nss19z7Hw&oe=67CC33BB PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 ๋‚จ์„ฑ ์†Œ์„ค ๋ชจ์Œ 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2025-03-03 19:10 active 2791 0 ๐Ÿ˜Read the next chapters๐Ÿ‘‰ In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yatesโ€™s husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, โ€œEm, how about having a child with me?โ€ Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasnโ€™t until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. โ€œA child?โ€ she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justinโ€™s desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. โ€œAre you proposing to me?โ€ she asked. โ€œYes.โ€ โ€œCan I finally have your child now?โ€ Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone elseโ€™s answer. โ€œIโ€™ll give you plenty,โ€ she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasnโ€™t exactly romantic or formal, but she didnโ€™t mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didnโ€™t mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft *clink* echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justinโ€™s cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didnโ€™t remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. โ€œDonโ€™t touch my things,โ€ he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasnโ€™t that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. โ€œWeโ€™re going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldnโ€™t mind going another round.โ€ Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. โ€œJustin, whatโ€™s wrong?โ€ She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justinโ€™s waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. โ€œJustin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didnโ€™t you?โ€ Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. โ€œEmma? Is that really you?โ€ Justinโ€™s voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the womanโ€™s tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. โ€œYes, itโ€™s me,โ€ the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justinโ€™s touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldnโ€™t just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justinโ€™s friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. โ€œEmma Xander? Hasnโ€™t she... disappeared for the past four years?โ€ Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justinโ€™s voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. โ€œHow is she doing?โ€ โ€œSheโ€™s malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.โ€ Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. โ€œHi, Miss Yates.โ€ Emily nodded in acknowledgment. โ€œDr. White, whatโ€™s her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?โ€ she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justinโ€™s long-lost first love. This was his friendโ€™s private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. โ€œDidnโ€™t I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?โ€ Justinโ€™s voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. โ€œYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youโ€™re holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youโ€™re not even coming home? Staying out all night?โ€ โ€œStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,โ€ he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justinโ€™s dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. โ€œItโ€™s late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,โ€ Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zacโ€™s offer. She wasnโ€™t leaving without answers. โ€œYou think Iโ€™m being unreasonable? Iโ€™m your fiancรฉe. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? โ€œIโ€™ll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youโ€™re coming home with me.โ€ Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinโ€™s arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinโ€™s personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldnโ€™t be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldnโ€™t even let her near him? โ€œWhat do you mean by this?โ€ Emilyโ€™s voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnโ€™t respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancรฉe he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. โ€œDonโ€™t be childish.โ€ Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? โ€œIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!โ€ Emilyโ€™s heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasnโ€™t the right moment to bring this up, but she couldnโ€™t accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. โ€œIf you donโ€™t want to get married, we can call it off. This isnโ€™t the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.โ€ He didnโ€™t like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. โ€œMiss Yates, please donโ€™t make this difficult for me. Itโ€™s time for you to go home.โ€ Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. โ€œMiss Yates, itโ€™s late. Maybe itโ€™s best to talk things over with Justin another time.โ€ But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancรฉ had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldnโ€™t let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. โ€œIโ€™ll walk you to the car,โ€ Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. โ€œIโ€™m fine. I can get back on my own.โ€ Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. โ€œShe left?โ€ he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didnโ€™t want her disturbing Emmaโ€™s rest. โ€œYes, sheโ€™s gone,โ€ Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didnโ€™t bother asking how Emily had left. โ€œIโ€™m stepping out for a break,โ€ he said. Chapter 3 โ€œSo, Emma Xanderโ€™s back. What are you going to do?โ€ Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didnโ€™t mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justinโ€™s life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancรฉe. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. โ€œShe was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.โ€ He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadnโ€™t been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. โ€œThe role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.โ€ In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldnโ€™t help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zacโ€™s eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasnโ€™t hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didnโ€™t care about things like V-card or a womanโ€™s past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justinโ€™s concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadnโ€™t fully taken over the company and wasnโ€™t yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfatherโ€™s intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. โ€œEmilyโ€™s been with you for three years,โ€ Zac said, trying to speak up for her. โ€œSheโ€™s an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isnโ€™t it a bit cruel to treat her like this?โ€ โ€œThen Iโ€™ll keep her around,โ€ Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. โ€œBut marriage? Thatโ€™s not going to happen.โ€ His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didnโ€™t matter at all. He didnโ€™t see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didnโ€™t leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadnโ€™t expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her โ€œEm.โ€ Whenever he whispered โ€œEmโ€ in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another womanโ€™s name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justinโ€™s wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancรฉe to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldnโ€™t accept that she had been someone elseโ€™s replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They werenโ€™t married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emmaโ€™s sudden appearance. โ€œMiss Yates, where are you?โ€ the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. โ€œIโ€™m here.โ€ Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. โ€œIs it just you? Whereโ€™s Mr. Yates?โ€ he asked. โ€œHeโ€™s not coming back.โ€ Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, โ€œEmily didnโ€™t leave?โ€ So, she had heard everything they had said. Justinโ€™s tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. โ€œGood. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.โ€ With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. โ€œYouโ€™re back! It mustโ€™ve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.โ€ Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. โ€œYes.โ€ โ€œWhereโ€™s Mr. Yates?โ€ Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. โ€œHe wonโ€™t be back tonight.โ€ Emilyโ€™s voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emilyโ€™s suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmerโ€™s smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justinโ€™s arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didnโ€™t have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didnโ€™t care and hadnโ€™t reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villaโ€™s garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justinโ€™s โ€œcontract lover.โ€ It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldnโ€™t be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. โ€œHow was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?โ€ Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. โ€œIโ€™m already back.โ€ โ€œAlready? That was quick.โ€ โ€œI thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didnโ€™t last long? Not up to it?โ€ โ€œNot just โ€˜not up to itโ€™. He canโ€™t even get started.โ€ Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasnโ€™t too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. โ€œPerfect timing then. Iโ€™m heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Letโ€™s hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.โ€ โ€œSounds good. Iโ€™ll see you at the mall.โ€ Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didnโ€™t like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. โ€œMrs. Zimmer, Iโ€™m meeting a friend to go shopping. Iโ€™ll have lunch out,โ€ Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. โ€œAlright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?โ€ Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeperโ€™s cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadnโ€™t seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. โ€œNot sure yet. Iโ€™ll text you later if Iโ€™ll be back in time.โ€ โ€œUnderstood.โ€ As Emily opened the door, she found Justinโ€™s assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. โ€œHi, Sam,โ€ she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. โ€œHi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?โ€ Samโ€™s tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didnโ€™t move. โ€œMrs. Zimmer, Justinโ€™s going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?โ€ โ€œMiss Yates, thisโ€ฆ?โ€ Samโ€™s face showed confusion. โ€œWhat? Before I came along, didnโ€™t Justin have someone to handle his luggage?โ€ Her expression was calm, her tone light. โ€œOf course. Youโ€™re absolutely right, Miss Yates,โ€ Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justinโ€™s business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadnโ€™t picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldnโ€™t be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure itโ€™s all packed? Should we check to make sure nothingโ€™s missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, โ€œIsnโ€™t the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, heโ€™ll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.โ€ She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? โ€œOf course, Miss Yates. Iโ€™ll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,โ€ Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justinโ€™s bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. โ€œHow much longer until Emilyโ€™s contract is up?โ€ Justinโ€™s voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. โ€œLess than four months, Mr. Yates.โ€ โ€œDraft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,โ€ Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasnโ€™t an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldnโ€™t touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, โ€œInclude a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.โ€ Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. โ€œUnderstood, Mr. Yates.โ€ Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasnโ€™t familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. โ€œBabe, switching things up?โ€ Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emilyโ€™s curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. โ€œYep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?โ€ She turned to give Helen a look. โ€œA shawl, definitely. Itโ€™ll highlight your figure beautifully,โ€ Helen replied with her usual style advice. โ€œThatโ€™s what I thought too.โ€ Helen eyed the dress. โ€œThat dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesnโ€™t Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?โ€ Helen couldnโ€™t help but mentally criticize Justinโ€™s taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. โ€œHis taste doesnโ€™t matter anymore. Itโ€™s not something Iโ€™m concerned about,โ€ Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didnโ€™t have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justinโ€™s stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. โ€œThat despicable man!โ€ Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. โ€œKeep it down.โ€ Emily quickly covered Helenโ€™s mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. โ€œJustin might look put-together, but heโ€™s not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? โ€œWhy didnโ€™t he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. โ€œGood for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!โ€ LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. โ€œThe contractโ€™s up in four months. Iโ€™m planning to buy a place.โ€ โ€œWhat for? Just stay with me. Iโ€™ve got a room for you.โ€ โ€œMy address is still tied to Justinโ€™s place. Since Iโ€™ve decided to leave, I need a clean break. Iโ€™ll need my own place to change everything over,โ€ Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night sheโ€™d learned the truth in the hospital garden. โ€œThen you can cancel your lease and move in with me! Weโ€™ll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didnโ€™t want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. โ€œAlright, Iโ€™ll move in with you. Iโ€™ll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. Iโ€™ll check if the landlordโ€™s interested in selling, though itโ€™s a resale property.โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t care if itโ€™s new or used. As long as itโ€™s clean and ready to go, Iโ€™m good.โ€ Emily didnโ€™t need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadnโ€™t bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The womenโ€™s side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the menโ€™s side, packed with Justinโ€™s clothes. Emily didnโ€™t linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. โ€œHello, is this Miss Yates?โ€ โ€œYes, this is.โ€ โ€œIโ€™m a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?โ€ Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. โ€œIโ€™ll come by tomorrow morning.โ€ โ€œVery well. Have a nice day.โ€ The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. โ€œPlan to have a baby?โ€ โ€œThatโ€™s right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.โ€ The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emilyโ€™s fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. โ€œMiss Yates, Iโ€™ll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.โ€ Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. โ€œThanks, doctor, but that wonโ€™t be necessary. Iโ€™ll get them on my own.โ€ The doctor wasnโ€™t surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasnโ€™t unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didnโ€™t want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didnโ€™t know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospitalโ€™s garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emmaโ€™s wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. โ€œJustin, youโ€™re busy with work. You donโ€™t have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,โ€ Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. โ€œFocus on getting better. Donโ€™t worry about anything else.โ€ Justin felt a deep guilt about Emmaโ€™s disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadnโ€™t expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadnโ€™t Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip? LEARN_MORE https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 375 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 www.lzwnyvvd.com VIDEO https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18085&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/t39.35426-6/478253383_1006528584871889_6417019491908515450_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=djfDCbYrhOMQ7kNvgG8693x&_nc_oc=Adgzc7SCoqh1ptx0q8wXMuMl042rbiqcYdXR_vyfT8j1TdDHEzjFyq23QNQHpvtZL1jkD_pGXvga2LqK5sciLhnt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AaSfxIdAJRx6D-rr47t5buD&oh=00_AYC_GQ0qcXp5NFAnvFN7WZhcr4ksPUCuI1dxQ0She0Nl6w&oe=67CC0B0E PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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