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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yatesâs husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, âEm, how about having a child with me?â Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasnât until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. âA child?â she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justinâs 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. âAre you proposing to me?â she asked. âYes.â âCan I finally have your child now?â Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone elseâs answer. âIâll give you plenty,â she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasnât exactly romantic or formal, but she didnât 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 didnât 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 Justinâs 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 didnât 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. âDonât touch my things,â 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. Wasnât 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. âWeâre going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldnât mind going another round.â 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. âJustin, whatâs wrong?â 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 Justinâs waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. âJustin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didnât you?â 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. âEmma? Is that really you?â Justinâs 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 womanâs tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. âYes, itâs me,â 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 Justinâs 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 couldnât 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. Justinâs 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. âEmma Xander? Hasnât she... disappeared for the past four years?â 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, Justinâs voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. âHow is she doing?â âSheâs malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.â 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. âHi, Miss Yates.â Emily nodded in acknowledgment. âDr. White, whatâs her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?â she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justinâs long-lost first love. This was his friendâs 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. âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs 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. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justinâs 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. âItâs late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,â Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zacâs offer. She wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. 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? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs 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 couldnât be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldnât even let her near him? âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â 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? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â Emilyâs heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasnât the right moment to bring this up, but she couldnât 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. âIf you donât want to get married, we can call it off. This isnât the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.â He didnât 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. âMiss Yates, please donât make this difficult for me. Itâs time for you to go home.â Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. âMiss Yates, itâs late. Maybe itâs best to talk things over with Justin another time.â But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancĂ© 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 wouldnât 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. âIâll walk you to the car,â Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. âIâm fine. I can get back on my own.â 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. âShe left?â he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didnât want her disturbing Emmaâs rest. âYes, sheâs gone,â Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didnât bother asking how Emily had left. âIâm stepping out for a break,â he said. Chapter 3 âSo, Emma Xanderâs back. What are you going to do?â Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didnât mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justinâs life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancĂ©e. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. âShe was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.â He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadnât been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. âThe role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.â 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 couldnât 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 Zacâs eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasnât hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didnât care about things like V-card or a womanâs past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justinâs 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 hadnât fully taken over the company and wasnât 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 grandfatherâs 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. âEmilyâs been with you for three years,â Zac said, trying to speak up for her. âSheâs an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isnât it a bit cruel to treat her like this?â âThen Iâll keep her around,â Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. âBut marriage? Thatâs not going to happen.â His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didnât matter at all. He didnât 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 didnât leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadnât 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 âEm.â Whenever he whispered âEmâ 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 womanâs name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justinâs 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 fiancĂ©e to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldnât accept that she had been someone elseâs 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 werenât married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emmaâs sudden appearance. âMiss Yates, where are you?â the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. âIâm here.â Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. âIs it just you? Whereâs Mr. Yates?â he asked. âHeâs not coming back.â 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, âEmily didnât leave?â So, she had heard everything they had said. Justinâs tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. âGood. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.â 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. âYouâre back! It mustâve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.â Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. âYes.â âWhereâs Mr. Yates?â Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. âHe wonât be back tonight.â Emilyâs 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 Emilyâs suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmerâs 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 Justinâs arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didnât 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 didnât care and hadnât 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 villaâs 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 Justinâs âcontract lover.â 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 wouldnât 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. âHow was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?â Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. âIâm already back.â âAlready? That was quick.â âI thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didnât last long? Not up to it?â âNot just ânot up to itâ. He canât even get started.â 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 wasnât too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. âPerfect timing then. Iâm heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Letâs hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.â âSounds good. Iâll see you at the mall.â Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didnât 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. âMrs. Zimmer, Iâm meeting a friend to go shopping. Iâll have lunch out,â Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. âAlright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?â Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeperâs cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadnât seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. âNot sure yet. Iâll text you later if Iâll be back in time.â âUnderstood.â As Emily opened the door, she found Justinâs assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. âHi, Sam,â she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. âHi, 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?â Samâs tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didnât move. âMrs. Zimmer, Justinâs going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?â âMiss Yates, thisâŠ?â Samâs face showed confusion. âWhat? Before I came along, didnât Justin have someone to handle his luggage?â Her expression was calm, her tone light. âOf course. Youâre absolutely right, Miss Yates,â 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 Justinâs 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 hadnât picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldnât 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 itâs all packed? Should we check to make sure nothingâs missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, âIsnât the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, heâll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.â 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? âOf course, Miss Yates. Iâll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,â 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, Justinâs bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. âHow much longer until Emilyâs contract is up?â Justinâs 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. âLess than four months, Mr. Yates.â âDraft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,â Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasnât an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldnât touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, âInclude a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.â Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. âUnderstood, Mr. Yates.â 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 wasnât 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. âBabe, switching things up?â Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emilyâs curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. âYep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?â She turned to give Helen a look. âA shawl, definitely. Itâll highlight your figure beautifully,â Helen replied with her usual style advice. âThatâs what I thought too.â Helen eyed the dress. âThat dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesnât Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?â Helen couldnât help but mentally criticize Justinâs 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. âHis taste doesnât matter anymore. Itâs not something Iâm concerned about,â 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 didnât 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 Justinâs stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. âThat despicable man!â Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. âKeep it down.â Emily quickly covered Helenâs mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. âJustin might look put-together, but heâs not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? âWhy didnât he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. âGood 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!â 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. âThe contractâs up in four months. Iâm planning to buy a place.â âWhat for? Just stay with me. Iâve got a room for you.â âMy address is still tied to Justinâs place. Since Iâve decided to leave, I need a clean break. Iâll need my own place to change everything over,â Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night sheâd learned the truth in the hospital garden. âThen you can cancel your lease and move in with me! Weâll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didnât want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. âAlright, Iâll move in with you. Iâll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. Iâll check if the landlordâs interested in selling, though itâs a resale property.â âI donât care if itâs new or used. As long as itâs clean and ready to go, Iâm good.â Emily didnât 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 hadnât bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The womenâs 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 menâs side, packed with Justinâs clothes. Emily didnât 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. âHello, is this Miss Yates?â âYes, this is.â âIâm a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?â 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. âIâll come by tomorrow morning.â âVery well. Have a nice day.â The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. âPlan to have a baby?â âThatâs 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.â The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emilyâs 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. âMiss Yates, Iâll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.â Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. âThanks, doctor, but that wonât be necessary. Iâll get them on my own.â The doctor wasnât surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasnât 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 didnât want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didnât know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospitalâs garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emmaâs wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. âJustin, youâre busy with work. You donât have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,â Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. âFocus on getting better. Donât worry about anything else.â Justin felt a deep guilt about Emmaâs 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 hadnât expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadnât Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip? | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&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/t39.35426-6/464668396_838968851777178_6862484548457197291_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3f0YniFiwOYQ7kNvgHbr_UB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Apq-W_ef3s5AtMTo5ZWFzxH&oh=00_AYDENcDKPzXHXPt6qLouN_OMq9sCB44z1WggFV_JxjE8kg&oe=67499EA5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Elaine's POV I stood in the middle of the bar, my eyes filled with shock. There were a lot of men in the bar, men that I had never seen before. The man that I had loved was also among them, sitting. The love of my life, the one whom I had given up everything to get married to. We have been married a little over one year and I had loved him for a very long time. When I had the chance to marry him, I jumped at it immediately. I thought he loved me at the beginning of our marriage, he showered me with everything I had ever wanted but he suddenly changed. âWhat's happening⊠Why⊠Why did you call me here?â I asked, confused at what I was doing in this place. He had called me a few minutes ago to quickly come here. I had no idea it was a bar until I came inside. The moment I came inside, a bad feeling washed over me. I shifted back, wanting to leave but two people suddenly appeared behind me, making me stop. âStrip.â Just one word, and the earth came crashing down on me. I glanced around the room, at everyone who stared at with their expressive eyes, at those who waited for me to do as I was commanded. They didn't hurt me, however, the person who commanded me was the very person I had loved. âDidn't you hear me? I said strip.â My husband, Caleb repeated, a smirk on his li-ps. I lowered my head, my hands trembling. My li-ps were parted open to speak, but no words could come out. Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as I gingerly stepped backwards, subconsciously trying to run away. âStop her and help her remove her clothes if she doesn't want to do it herself.â Caleb said to the security guards who stood behind me. They came forward and held me by my arms, twisting it to my back and forcing me to kneeel down. I felt a sharp pain go from my arms to my wrist and a small âcrackâ filled my ears. But I didn't fully register it when one of them directly tore my clothes, and goosebumps arose on my body from the sudden laughter that sounded from all directions. I couldn't raise my head up to meet their eyes but shoes appeared right in front of me and I looked up to see Caleb, the man I had given myself to. He stared down at me, an evil glint in his eyes. âWhy?â I asked, âWhy are you doing this to me?â My throat constricted. âWhy?â Caleb tilted his head, confusion showing on his face, âYou're my wife, Elaine, so your body is mine to do as I please. After all, you were the one who forced my grandfather to make me get married to you. If it was for you, I would have gotten married to Emily. Now, you have to face the consequences of what you did.â Caleb said hatefully and forcefully raised my chin up, motioning for a man to bring over a bottle of wine. My eyes widened as I realised what he wanted to do. âNo. No please, I can't drink that. No, please!â I struggled against the grasp of the security men who held me tightly. âCaleb, please, you know I can't drink that. I beg you, please let me go. Please.â I begged, but it was to no avail. The guard yanked my head back, forcing my mouth open. The sharp scent of alco-hol burned my nostrils as Caleb poured the wine into my mouth. The liquid burned its way down my throat, my body immediately began rejecting it. The liquid that escaped going into my mouth got mixed up with the tears running down my face, some got into my eyes. My vision blurred as I choked, gasping for air in between sobs. But by the time he was finished, more than half of the bottle was already gone. He threw the rest onto the carpet and knelt down, smirking as I continued to cough. âWasn't that good enough?â Caleb questioned, âNow that wasn't so bad after all.â âCaleb⊠YouâŠâ I began coughing, my eyes were getting blurry, it was hard to see their faces. A sharp pain went through my stomach and I gasped. âC⊠Caleb⊠My⊠my stomach. It hurts.â I gasped again as the pain spread to my spine. I thought I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes, but I was deluding myself. Caleb didn't care, he had never cared. But I still needed help, the pain was almost unbearable now. âCaleb please, please help me. Pl⊠Argh!â The sharp twisting pain in my stomach intensified, it felt like knives twisting and tearing inside my stomach. I crumpled to the floor. âHelp you? This is the consequences of your actions Elaine, so you have to dea-l with it.â Caleb sneered, stepping back as if my pain disgusted him. My eyes widened as I felt wetness between my legs, it was warm, thick and terrifying. âNo. No, no, no, no. This can't be happening, no!â I cried out as I realized exactly what was happening. I looked back at Caleb who knew that I was having a miscariage, I thought he would help me even upon seeing that. But once again, I was wrong. He stepped back, looking at the blood in disgust and dialed a number. The world around me was getting dark, I was losing consciousness and the last thing I heard Caleb say was, âDon't let anyone know where she came from. You can tell the doctors that you saw her bleeding on the road.â And then the doors closed as my word completely went dark. âHold her down! She's hyperventilating!â âBring in the oxygen tank! Be quick about it!â âHer heart rate is stopping!â I heard bits and pieces as I floated in and out of consciousness. I felt like dying, I wanted to die. But even the world was against me because a few hours later, I woke up in the hospital, white ceilings, white walls, everything was white. I hated white. âHow are you feeling?â A few minutes after I had woken up, a doctor walked into my ward with a writing board in his hand. I glanced at him, not saying anything. âOh, I'm sorry.â He apologized, smiling sheepishly. I had an alc-ohol allergy, I couldn't drink anything with that in it. If I did, my throat would close up for a while, my tongue would swell and I would have rashes all over my body; and that was only if it was a small amount but Caleb forced down more than half a bottle down my throat. âMiss, someone found you on the road while you were losing the baby so he brought you here and paid for your medical bills. Is there any of your family that we could call orâŠâ Before he could say anything further, I heard a familiar voice from the hallways and my body stiffened. I glanced again at the doctor, willing for him not to let them in, but they were faster than he was. Two people kicked the doors open and walked into my ward, one was my mother and the last one was my mother in law. âIt's not visiting hours as the patient is still under observation, please you have to leave now orâŠâ My mother ignored the doctor's words and stomped towards me, her eyes blazing. She raised her hands and without hesitation, she slapped me on the cheek, her nose flaring in hatred for me, âYou crazy bit-ch! How dare you lose the baby after all your husband has done to care for you! How dare you!â Chapter 2 âHow dare you?! How could you lose this baby after everything Caleb has done to make sure this baby could be kept?!â My mother, Selena said furiously, her eyes were wide with anger. I stared at her in shock, I couldn't comprehend what they were talking about? But because I couldn't speak at that moment, I had no way to defend myself and thus, I could only let them continue speaking. âSelena, be calm. We are in the midst of a bunch of people, lower your voice.â My mother in law, Clara turned her gaze to Selena who shrank. Selena had always cowered under the pressure of Caleb's mother; mainly because was everything my mother was not. âElaineâŠâ I blinked twice, my face was still stinging from the slap. âI was told that you went to the club to drink despite Caleb warning you not to do so. How could you have ignored his warnings?â Clara asked, her hooded eyes on me. âCaleb had told me not to go to the club?â I was confused. But I wasn't surprised at what she was saying, after all, so many lies had been spread in the family about me. If I could talk and I had told them that I was literally dragged to the club and had whisky force fed down my throat, would they believe me? No, they would rather choose to blame me in one way or the other. I glanced at the doctor for some kind of help, any kind. âMa'am, I believe there are some mistakes here. I don't believe your daughter went to the club willingly or whatever it is you are saying. When she was brought here, she had bruises on her chin and at the side of her cheeks which shows the fact that her mouth was forced open. Her wrists also have some bruises and we're twisted slightly, she has a fracture on one of her wrists, and her knees are bruised. So you seeâŠâ âMister⊠Louis⊠I don't believe I asked for your opinion in this matter?â Clara's gaze flickered over to the doctor who froze, disbelief on his face. His eyes met mine, his questions as clear as day. Even a doctor who didn't know me believed that this wasn't something I did out of choice. âElaine, you have brought shame upon this family.â Clara continued, her voice cutting through my heart like a knife, âDespite how much of an empty barrel you are, Caleb worked hard to get you pragnant and yet, you still lost the baby due to your carelessness. You should have died along with the baby.â She spat out hatefully and immediately, I looked at my mother. Even though she had always treated me badly, I thought that for someone to say that her child should die along with her baby in front of her, at least she would say something. But Selena merely sneered and looked away. I gawked at my mother with incredulity. I wanted to scream, how could I have been born into a family like this?! Why?! âYou're coming home with us, you spending your time here is justâŠâ Clara trailed off, âAfter all, I am not even sure you are a woman. I don't even know why my father made Caleb marry you when he had Emily right by his side. You are one manipulative woman, do you know that? Emily was so much better than you. No problem though, everything will be fixed soon enough.â I felt the weight of her words crash down on me. I was being compared to Emily once again. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. Emily. That was the only thing I heard. It was always her! I never forced Caleb to marry me, he had made me fall in love with him, he made me believe that he loved me back. When I found out about the woman named Emily, we were already married. I was the one who was lied to and yet, I was the blamed one! âYou can't take her with you. She needs rest.â The doctor said, stepping closer, âHer body is weak due to the miscarr-iage. She is not well enough to be discharged as she still needs proper monitoring, including how far her allergies could go. If you are concerned about her hospital bills, you don't need to be. It has been paid for already.â Clara shot him a venomous look, âDo you think we can't take care of her, Mr Louis? This is a family matter, you have no right to interfere. Selena, pick up your daughter, we are leaving.â Clara commanded and my mother immediately did her bidding. She dragged me from the bed, ignoring my wince as she pushed me outside the ward. The doctor kept following me at the back but it was to no avail, they eventually got their way with Clara threatening the doctors with her status. A few minutes later, we were in front of the house and there was a car parked outside. A car that was unfamiliar and yet familiar at the same time. âOh, she must be back then.â Clara said happily as she stepped down from the car and walked hurriedly into the house. Who? Who was back? My breaths came out in shallow gasps as my mother yanked me forward, forcing me towards the house. I could barely keep up with her pace and I tripped several times. The front door loomed over me like an evil omen, and I could hear voices inside. Familiar voices. My mother pushed me roughly and I nearly fell to my knees as the doors opened, but I stopped myself. And then I saw her. Emily. Standing in the centre of the room, her presence continued to haunt me even until this day. Innocent and filled with purity, the woman I had endlessly been compared to. Bile rose in my throat as I forced myself to keep it down as I locked eyes with her. âElaine.â Her voice was smooth and sweet, her eyes pure and sparkly, âIt's been a long time. So lovely to meet you again.â Chapter 3 Emily greeted, her voice was sweet and delightful. To them. I stepped back, my eyes wide and my hands trembling. I frantically looked over to Caleb who was seated on the couch, a huge beaming smile on his li-ps. But when our eyes met, they were evil and cunning. But then, I heard a cough from the side and I saw Caleb's grandfather sitting. My heart trembled when I saw him, he would support me, he always had supported me no matter what. Once I was able to talk, I would tell him everything that had happened and he would finally realize that⊠âElaine! Despite how I treated you, how could you intentionally ab-ort your baby! Worse, you even cheated on Caleb! Is this what you promised me when you got married to him?!â Grandfather knocked his staff twice on the ground. I stumbled in shock. The fact that he was yelling at me, which he had never done before had crossed over my mind. What he just said⊠Abort? I intentionally kil-led my baby? And what is this? Cheating? I had never cheated on Caleb, not even once! âAnd don't tell me that it's a lie! One report or the other about you had always gotten to my ears and I never believed them because I thought you were a good girl, but now there is evidence!â My legs felt like jelly as I took another step backwards, I was barely able to stand. Evidence? What evidence could they possibly have? My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. âIâŠâ I tried to speak, but my throat still hurt so badly, they would barely even be able to hear me but I had to try, âGrand⊠grandfather, I never did any of that.â Grandfather slammed his staff against the floors once more, silencing my feeble attempt to speak, âThere are pictures, Elaine!â He thundered, his eyes narrowing, âPictures of you lying in a bed with someone who was not Caleb! And you dare claim innocence?! How dare you!â Grandfather yelled and threw the pictures at me. My mind went blank as I stared at them, my heart was pounding in my che-st. Indeed, I was on the bed, and there was a man above me, he was masked. But this wasn't true. This couldn't be true! âThis isn't meâŠâ I gasped, âNone of this happened! I don't remember any of this happening!â âHow convenient.â Caleb's voice cut in, âYou don't remember, how typical Elaine. Just like you don't remember pushing Emily down the stairs, just like you don't remember stealing from grandfather in or-der to fund your gigolo, just like you didn't remember beating up the maids. You never remember anything, Elaine. Who knows, that child inside you may not even be mine for all I care.â I stared at Caleb in disbelief, the room began to spin all around me. This had got to be some kind of cruel joke by the universe. âThis has nothing to do with me. I never did any of those things, you know Caleb. Why are you doing this to me? What sort of mistake did I make for you to treat me like this? Grandfather, you have to believe me, I really didn't do any of those things.â My shoulders trembled as I spoke, my throat became scratchy and dry and it took everything in me not to rush to the kitchen to drink some water. âThe evidence speaks for itself Elaine, so save your breath. You slept with another man and now you're trying to cover it up by playing the victim. How pathetic of you.â âSo who was it? An old friend of yours? A new man that you met while at the club? You have already brought enough disgrace to this family but cheating on my son? That is unforgivable.â âNo, no.â I shook my head violently, I must still be sleeping, this can't be true, âI swear I don't know anything about this. I'm telling the truth, this must be some sort of mistake, I really didn'tâŠâ âEnough!â Grandfather's voice boomed throughout the room and I froze in place, âYou have lied enough, Elaine. Caleb was willing to forgive you for everything, but with those pictures, there is no redemption for you.â I stumbled backwards, my legs finally gave out as I crumpled to the floor. My stomach began to hurt even more. I glanced up at Caleb who was staring at me, a grin on his li-ps. Then my gaze went straight to Emily and I inwardly gasped. Her eyes. They were dark and manipulative. It all dawned on me. Her sudden arrival when I lost my baby, all the accusations that were readily placed down. Everything. I was being framed for her. So she could come back and take her ârightful placeâ as Caleb's wife. This was all a farce, and I was in the middle of it all. A sob escaped my li-ps as I lowered my head, and I let everything I had been through play like a film in my head. From the very beginning, it was only Grandfather who had treated me nicely. Caleb's mother had hated me but I thought that if I continued to be a good daughter in law, everything would be fine and she would eventually like me. I felt like everything would change miraculously but it only got worse and worse. Why did I even try to make things better if it was only going to become like this? âSo⊠at the end, you still chose me to be the villain, the one whom you can blame for everything. I'm the bad woman here⊠Hahahaha.â I threw my head back and laughed, not even caring about the eyes that were on me anymore. It was actually finished, they had treated me the way they wanted to. All of them. âSo, what now? What do you want me to do now that you have levelled all these accusations on me?â I glanced at Caleb whose eyes darkened. âDo you want me to kneeel for forgiveness? Do you want me to fall to the ground and lick your feet? Do you want me to strip myself outside just like you did to me in the midst of your friends?!â âElaine!â Caleb yelled, his eyes wide. âWhat do you want me to do?! Tell me?!â I stared at him with red rimmed eyes. My pupils were burning so crazily that it was hard to keep them open. I just wanted to plunge myself into cold water and fall asleep. Maybe even forever. âFine. I want a divorce.â Caleb said, taking a bunch of papers from the chair and flinging them at me, âSign them and we will officially be divorced.â I eyed the papers on the ground. Caleb had already signed them, his ever so elegant writing that I had always loved. It was so funny actually, that all the work I put into this was thrown out of the window just because of one woman who had always framed me. A woman whom everyone thought was pure hearted. But she was a devil in disguise. âGrandfather, do you remember what you told me in the hospital that day? You said that you could see that I was so pure hearted that my eyes showed exactly what was in my soul, do you know what I was thinking at that moment?â I paused, waiting to see his reaction. He furrowed his eyebrows but didn't interrupt me. âI was thinking that you were the only person in this world that seemed to love me unconditionally. No matter what happened, you never failed to be there for me. Even if it wasn't for Caleb, I still loved you as it was. And then you asked me if I regretted saving Caleb that time because the doctors said it would be hard for my body to bear a child. Do you remember what I said?â I asked again, watching as Grandfather bit his li-ps and held his staff so tightly that his hands turned red. âI said that I didn't regret saving the both of you, I didn't regret putting my life in danger. But now?â I raised my head up, I wasn't able to stop the tears from flowing. I was numb, but I was still crying. âI regret it. I regret it so much, I wish I had never saved Caleb. I wished I had never been there at that moment. I wish Caleb had died in that place.â Chapter 4 âIf Caleb had died there, maybe I wouldn't be hurting this much.â I finished. âYou bit-ch!â Clara screeched and stomped forward, her hands raised as she slapped me once more. A crisp sound rang throughout the sitting room. But it didn't hurt more than I was already hurting. I bent down to pick up the papers and pen and with shaky hands, I signed the divorce papers, my chapped li-ps widening into a smile. âI've given you what you wanted, Caleb.â I raised my head, watching him intently. He looked very happy. So happy that he snat-ched the papers from my hands, pushing me away. My mother watched everything coldly, her eyes promising wrath against me. I scoffed, I didn't even know why I bothered anymore. âElaine⊠I'm sorry.â Emily stepped forward, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. âSorry? There's no need to be sorry, Emily. After all, you've gotten exactly what you wanted. But soon enough, everyone in this family will know just how pretentious and evil you are. An innocent flower? A pitiful woman? Ha! Emily, I wait for the day that you will fall to the ground and everything will be taken away from you, just as it was done to me.â âYou⊠get out! Get out of this place!â Clara screamed, her face red. My mother came forward and dragged me by my arm and pulled me outside. Until we got to the gates, we didn't stop walking. But I pulled my arm out of her grasp, âI'm not going with you.â I whispered, âI've had enough.â âElaine⊠What the heck are you saying? Do you want to continue to embarrass me?! After all that you have done back there, how could you continue toâŠâ âMom⊠Should I even call you mom? I'm nothing more than a product of bargains to get you money. You have never treated me like a daughter, like your child. I heard that even animals do not treat their young ones this way, but you⊠you have never liked me. Am I even your child?â âElaine! Stop saying things like this, you're my daughter!â Selena's voice cracked but there was no emotion in her eyes, Selena had always known how to play the concerned mother but it was so easily broken apart. I took a step back, trying to put some distance in between us. âDon't call me that.â Bitterness swelled up inside me, âI'm not your daughter. You made it clear every day in my life.â âYou ungrateful brat! I clothed you, I fed you, I gave you everything and this is how youâŠâ âNo, you sold me like a piece of clothing. Or maybe clothing even has more value than me.â I cut her off, âBut no more. Because this is going to end.â I turned away from her, heading down the street. I didn't know where I was going, but it didn't matter. I just needed to go to a place where I could end it all. Behind me, I could hear her calling my name but it was drowned out by the sound of my own footsteps. I walked until I found myself on an abandoned road. There wasn't any car passing by. But then, I heard a low rumble of a car engine behind me. Before I could turn around, a car screeched to a stop beside me, the door swung open and two men jumped out. They were fast, so fast that I barely had time to scream before one of them grabbed me by the arms, lifting me off the ground. âWho are you? Let go of me! Let go!â I screamed, thrashing wildly. âShut up!â One of them growled and pushed me into the car. I struggled, kicking and swinging my arms but it was useless. I was no match for two grown and burly men. One of them raised a fist and the last thing I felt was a sharp pain in my temple before everything went dark. âUghâŠâ I growled at the pain that went throughout my whole body, my head was pounding. My hands were tied right behind my back and a blindfold covered my eyes. The smell of dust and concrete filled up my nose. We were in a building, an uncompleted one. I had been kidnapped. I suddenly heard footsteps, then without warning, the blindfold was yanked from my face. I blinked, my vision was blurry at first but it didn't take long for me to recognise the figure standing in front of me. âEmily.â I said slowly, gulping down saliva, âWhy did you bring me here?â âSurprised to see me?â She asked, her voice sweet, almost mocking. âWhat do you want? You've already gotten everything from me, Emily.â She smiled, a smile that didn't reach her eyes, âYou have always been a problem, Elaine, always in the way. Caleb should have left you long ago but you just had to cling onto him, didn't you? I had to wait years for him to get rid of you, even while our baby is still growing in my stomach.â Emily rubbed her flat stomach. My heart stopped, âA baby? You're pre-gnant?!â âYes, Elaine. Caleb and I are going to have a baby. Didn't you ever think about why Caleb had fed you drinks when he knew you were aller-gic to it and more so, while you're pragnant? Didn't you ever stop to think about how he left you until you finished bleeding before he asked someone to take you to the hospital? He did not do this just for fun or to show how pathetic you were. It was because he wanted you to lose the baby! He never wanted the baby to be brought into this world!â I choked up. Even though I knew that Caleb must have intentionally made me lose my baby, it felt like I was still kicked in the gut when Emily said this. One of the thugs who came with Emily kicked me in the stomach, making me double over in pain, they didn't stop there, they continued hitting me, especially my stomach. They were trying to destroy any other chances of me giving birth to a child. I began bleeding from the corner of my mouth. âLeave her.â Emily stated, âYour time is up Elaine, soon you'll be nothing more than a memory. Take her to the bridge.â I was carried and driven to another place. I didn't know where I was due to me focusing on nothing but the pain, however, the smell of water filled my senses. I was forced to stand on the edge of the bridge. My eyes were closed as I felt the evening breeze. So this was how it was going to end. A befitting end for a âvillainessâ I couldn't help but laugh, âEmily. I will make one promise to you and Caleb.â I said, my li-ps curling into a bitter smile, âYou will be punished. Karma will come for you and when it does, it'll be ten times worse than what you did to me. Your fake smile will crumble right under you and I'll be there. Watching as you beg for mercy.â I'll haunt the both of you. And when I come for you, it won't be quick. It won't be painless. It won't be easy. I smiled through the tears, âIt will be slow, agonist and bitter.â âI'd like to see you try, Elaine. Goodbye.â Elaine then shoved me down the bridge, I was falling. The last thing I saw was her face and right behind her, I saw Caleb's. Then the icy water swallowed me whole. âAh!â I gasped, shaking awake, my lungs burning as I sat upright. âYou shouldn't move like that, you'll open your stitches.â I looked to my side and saw two men, both tall, dressed in black suits, with an aura that screamed dangerous. One had slightly long hair that was out into a rat's ponytail, both his eyes were closed while the other had shorter hair, and he wore gold rimmed glasses. He looked so familiar. âShe's awake. Call for the nurse to check up on her.â The one with shorter hair and gold rimmed glasses said to the closed eye one who immediately went to do as he was told. I continued to stare at the man with glasses, trying to place where I had seen him, but he didn't say anything until the other one had left completely. âIt's a pity, Elaine, to see you in this sort of position.â He began, making me arch my brow. Did he know me? âWho are you? How do you know my name?â I questioned him. âI must have changed a lot for you not to be able to recognize me,â he removed his glasses, his grey eyes fixed on me. My eyes widened, my mouth opening in shock as I saw a face that I hadn't seen for a long time. âIt's⊠youâŠâ I stammered, all the cells in my body were screaming. His face had never changed, he never changed. âOf course. It's been a long time⊠Elaine.â The man smirked, his crooked smile that I had always loved. âZadeâŠâ It was him. Zade Silver, my ex boyfriend. Chapter 5 âIt's youâŠâ I murmured, my eyes fixed on Zade who leaned on the door frames, golden rimmed glasses sat right on top of his nose. He hadn't changed, although he was just as handsome, if not even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him. Zade frowned, his eyes were dark and he had an unreadable expression on his face. Without saying anything, he turned around and left the ward, the only thing I could hear was the rhythmic sounds of his footsteps that echoed in the hallway. I leaned back on the bed, my head lowered. A myriad of thoughts went on in my head. How did he save me? He went abroad so many years ago and he told me that he would never come back, so why now? How was he able to recognise me? My hands trembled as I raised them to touch my face. What would I look like now? Zade had always called me beautiful in the past, was I still beautiful to him? Or had the years of abu-se gotten to me, did I look old now? I raised my head to look around, it felt like the walls of the ward were closing in on me, I couldn't breathe. My throat constricted and my eyes were getting blurry. Why didn't I die? I had always done everything I could to help the people around me but why did I become like this? Why am I still alive?! Why did he save me? âElaine! Elaine! Elaine!!â I gasped as I jolted awake, my lashes trembling as I faced Zade who leaned over me, confusion in his cold eyes. âWhatâŠâ I trailed off, horror coming over me as I realised the extent as to which my thoughts travelled to. Zade's eyes remained fixed on me, the intensity sent a wave of discomfort through me. My che-st still heaved from the panic, my heart pounded against my ribcage. âMiss Elaine.â The Doctor called out my name and I raised my head to meet his eyes. Zade shifted back, allowing the doctor to come forward. He held a clipboard in his hands, just like the doctor who had treated me that other time. Come to think of it, they resembled quite a bit, slowly, their faces began to lap over each other. âMiss Elaine.â âOh, yes?â The doctor's voice brought me out of my thoughts. âIs it possible that⊠WellâŠâ The doctor rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and from his small gestures, I could see that he wanted to hide some things from me. âYou can tell me whatever it is.â I am used to surprises now. Good or bad. âAlright. Due to whatever had happened to you, losing your child and the emotional trauma, we believe that it would be hard for you to have a baby ever again...â The doctor began and subconsciously, I tensed. My heart stopped at his words. Everything around me went silent, and for a moment, I couldn't hear anything except for the ringing in my ears. I couldn't get pragnant⊠ever again? I blinked, trying to process what the doctor had just said. He was speaking again, his voice low and careful, but I couldn't focus on his words, all I could think about was the sudden emptiness I felt inside me. âElaine.â Zade called out my name again softly, breaking me out of my reverie. âMiss Elaine, I understand that this is difficult news,â The doctor said gently, his voice almost apologetic, âBut with the right mindset, support and care, you can still love a fulfilling life. We will do anything we can to help you heal, both physically and mentally. Then perhaps, you may be able to birth a child again. Not everything is set in stone.â I nodded numbly, though his words felt empty. What kind of life was he talking about? A life without the possibility of being a mother, without the chance to hold my own child? I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. I also wanted to cry, but for some reason, I couldn't. My eyes felt so dry that I wondered if I really was a human. All the emotions I felt, or lack thereof made me feel like I was a monster. A monster that wasn't capable of crying for what she had lost. âIf you would like to talk to me about anything, or if you're feeling any pain inside, you can call for a nurse to call for me. This man here was the one who saved and brought you here, he said that you both knew each other?â The doctor looked between me and Zade, silently urging me to say if I knew Zade. âI know him.â I mumbled slowly, not wanting to say anything more than that. âAlright then.â The doctor nodded. I felt Zade shift beside me, his presence overwhelming. He had always been a silent force in my life, both a comfort and a curse. And now, standing there, he looked down at me with an expression that made me want to scream, to lash out, to push him away for daring to witness me at my most broken. âIâll leave you two to talk.â The doctor said, offering a small nod before exiting the room, leaving me alone with Zade. The door clicked shut, and the silence between us became unbearable. I couldnât look at him. I didnât want to see his pity, or worse, his indifference. âWhy did you come back?â I questioned, the silence was too unbearable for me. And I also wanted to know, âYou told me that you would never come back, so why are you back? Why now?â | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&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/t39.35426-6/464509108_1214196873203283_6155248104857139283_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ht7brXYneCUQ7kNvgFEtrso&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Apq-W_ef3s5AtMTo5ZWFzxH&oh=00_AYAlddUIwm9bO349wRg1HFzfmztL3X-bNHDzd4YXG9xWmA&oe=674981FE | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⊠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⊠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⊠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⊠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-eFFs6Zds_sQ7kNvgE0GuWr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Apq-W_ef3s5AtMTo5ZWFzxH&oh=00_AYC_PqG79xzo--QvVUGyR-POTdJusGcB9U5hvbvby2RQdA&oe=674989DF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ekn73mAbfKUQ7kNvgGGGiJA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ablgng3NnGAEiKACZKBs8s_&oh=00_AYBYE0Ji2sM5C0TS4TSPLcelvSJJLZVuAP1p3KL11s9bNA&oe=674994B5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ХбДжаĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа | ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃла ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐŒŃжа ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, ŃĐșŃŃла бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ŃŃла Ń ŃазбОŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ. ===== «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ! ĐĐ°Ń ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČ». ĐаŃŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐČа ĐČŃŃла Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐżŃĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” заĐșĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа! ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ Đž ŃаŃплŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”. ĐĐ»ŃĐżĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ±ŃаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń, Ń ĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. Đа ŃĐșŃĐ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” глаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: «ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»Ń "ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐŃĐ”Đ»Ń Â«ĐŃĐ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃЎа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°? ĐаŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ ŃаĐșŃĐž, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ°ĐŽŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ”Ń ĐČОЎДŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃОД ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž лОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃДлŃ. ĐŃĐčĐŽŃ ĐžĐ· ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃОбŃĐ»Ń ŃĐșŃаŃĐ”Đœ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐžŃ ŃĐČаЎŃбŃ. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз? ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбалаŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃДагОŃŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ, ŃлОĐČаŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŽĐ”. ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃлДпОŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐČŃЎДлŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ. ĐĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃгОĐČаŃŃ ĐłŃĐ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла ŃŃĐŸŃĐČŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșа заŃŃŃла. ĐŃĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČа! ĐаĐș ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽ? ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃЎаŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃазĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃĐœŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃĐ·ŃŃ ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ĐžŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃаĐČĐ»ŃлО. «ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. Đа ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń ĐČŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ!» ĐĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ ĐłŃĐŸĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃаŃĐœĐŸĐ” плаŃŃĐ” Đž Ń ĐžĐ·ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. «ЄĐČаŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃжД Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». ĐŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃĐž ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃОД ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐżŃДзŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаŃŃŃ? ĐŻ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ!» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃДбД. ĐĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃа ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° заĐșаз ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ”, ОзлŃŃал Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐžĐŒŃŃ Ń Đ°ŃĐžĐ·ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ, - Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. - ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń. ĐŻ ĐČŃĐżŃŃ Đ·Đ° ĐœĐ”Ń». ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃŃĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč лОŃŃ ŃŃОлОлОŃŃ. «ĐĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа? ĐąŃ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃаДŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» ĐĄŃДЎО ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžĐŒŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐșĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃŃĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃĐș ĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž заŃŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. ĐŃа ŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŸŃДлŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐșапаŃŃ Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Ń Đž Ń Đ»ŃĐœŃĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐČŃĐžĐč Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа заŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČал Đ”Ń? ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșа, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃŃаŃŃ ŃĐČОЎДŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ĐžŃ Đ»ŃбĐČĐž Đž ŃŃŃŃпОŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? ĐаŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃŃаŃŃ. РаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжаŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃпаŃ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃДла ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ. ĐĄŃĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐ° бДзŃŃаŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО блŃжЎалО гЎД-ŃĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ĐĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалОŃŃ ŃпаŃŃĐž ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČŃЎаĐČ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃĐ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐŸŃĐșазŃĐČалŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-за ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐ°Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ЎаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč бŃаĐș. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” бабŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, а ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃа ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ŃДзжаŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃла пДŃДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала Đ·ĐČŃĐș аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČОгаŃДлŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа: «ĐаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐлаĐČа 2 ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐč ŃŃĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ? ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐČ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐаŃŃĐž. ĐŃĐŒĐŸĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșŃŃŃ ĐșŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐŒĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ĐżŃОЎаĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. «ЧŃĐŸ, ŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž, Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ?» - ŃДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșаĐș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃалŃŃ Ń ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃĐŸ заŃŃаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ŃжаŃŃŃŃ. ĐĄŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸ-ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃŃаŃŃŃ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃалаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°ŃалŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ, а Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃĐžĐșа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». ĐĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃа Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃĐ”ŃĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ заŃĐ”ŃалŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐžŃ ĐœŃла. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”ŃŃ Đ”Ń, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ»ĐžŃŃ ŃОлŃĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃжД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșаŃ. ĐŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, ŃĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đž пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœŃŃŃ?» ĐŁĐ»ŃбĐșа ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž заŃŃŃла. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐž...» «ĐĐŽĐž Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃŃ, а ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ», - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ĐČŃпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đž ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐłĐœŃŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĄ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОла ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐŽŃŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃДлаŃŃ. ĐаĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč паŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐżŃŃĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœĐ° Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃĐžĐœĐșŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐžĐČ Đ”Ń ŃДаĐșŃĐžŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń Đž ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐžŃаДŃŃ? ĐŻ ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃжД ĐČОЎДл». ĐĐžŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”Đ±ŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽŃ Đž ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. «ĐĐŸŃ, ĐČŃпДĐč». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃаблДŃĐșŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ńа ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐČŃДЎОŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»ŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐČОл ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”ŃĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? ĐąŃ Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐžĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐаĐČŃŃа ĐŒŃ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабŃŃĐșĐ”, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžŃŃ?» ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșĐ”, ŃĐżĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ. «ĐĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČŃпОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃŃĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ Đž ĐČŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșĐ”, ĐżŃаĐČЎа». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ŃаблДŃĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ... ĐŃ !» ĐŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃпДла ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ĐаŃŃаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐșŃДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃОжалŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Đ”Ń. йаблДŃĐșа Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸ ŃŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃлабОл Ń ĐČаŃĐșŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃбДЎОлŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃОла лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*ŃДлŃŃ Ń ĐаŃŃĐž заĐșŃŃжОлаŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČа, ŃĐŒŃĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ŃĐ”ŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃЎа. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń⊠- ĐœĐ”ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. - ĐŻ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ». ĐŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃОлО ĐČŃĐ” Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐ” глаза. «ĐĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃĐž Đ”ŃŃ Ńаз». ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ŃŃĐżŃŃга. «Я ŃĐșазала, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». Đ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃазОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃазОлОŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ¶Đ” Đ”ŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ жД, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. «ĐĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČŃĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃĐșазаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО ŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČŃĐ” ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃĐž? Đ Đ”ŃŃ ĐžĐŽŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐłĐ°Ń ? - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń. - ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа? ĐŃлО ŃДбД ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО. ĐĐ” ОгŃаĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃĐž ОгŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃŃ ŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа Ńжала ĐșŃлаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃĐžŃĐœŃла Đ·ŃбŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃОл, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Đ”Ń ĐžĐłŃ, ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃĐșа ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ? ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Ń Đ°ŃаĐșŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶Đ”Đœ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃазĐČДлОŃŃ Đ±Ń, ŃаĐș ĐșаĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃа?» ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńал, глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń . ĐĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃ, а ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃДлОлаŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ. «ĐлО... ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ?» ĐлаĐČа 3 ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐŃĐž ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ»ĐŸ, а ĐČ ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ ĐżŃДЎĐČĐșŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃĐČаĐč ŃДбŃ, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐč ŃĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - ĐąŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃажаŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Ń Đ”Ń Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - ĐĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, ĐаŃа, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОла ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃДл. ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃаŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ плаŃа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœŃŃŃĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ. ĐĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ бŃĐșĐČалŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ŃŃĐżŃŃга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐажД Đ”ŃлО ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ĐČŃŃаŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃŃОла ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃĐż бДŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐабŃŃĐșа Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃĐșŃДпОŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, Đž Đ”Đč ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. Đа ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ŃŃŃĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃОбŃла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·Ń», Đ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжОлО ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐ” заŃĐŽĐ»ŃĐ” ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «ĐаŃа, ĐŒŃ Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đž ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃŃĐŸ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐĐœĐž ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”?» «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃŃŃŃаОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃпДŃĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸŃĐ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, ŃаŃĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐșаĐș лДŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐČŃĐ”Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐżŃблОŃĐœĐŸ заŃĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ !» «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃала, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃĐŽŃŃĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐĐŸŃлД ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐ” ŃлОŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž пДŃДглŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đž заĐșаŃОлО глаза. ĐŃĐ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОлО. «Đа Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐаŃа! ĐąŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐșŃĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐč. ĐаĐș ŃŃа ĐžĐœŃĐŸŃĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃДбŃ? ĐаĐČаĐč ĐČŃĐșлаЎŃĐČаĐč!» ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃала ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа, ĐœĐŸ лОŃŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐČ ĐșŃŃŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаĐșжД ŃĐČĐ»ŃлаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл аŃĐžŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐčŃĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃĐŸŃОла: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ». ĐĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń ĐŸŃДлО ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Ńа ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐČала ĐžŃ ĐżŃДжЎД, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ŃŃпДлО ĐČŃĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ пДŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐœŃлО ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃплДŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаĐčŃĐ”ŃŃ Đș ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”!» ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОŃа ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐžŃ , ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČа, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃлО». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐČĐŸŃŃаŃŃ. «ĐĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎŃŃ. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ». «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ, ĐŒŃ ŃĐ”ŃОлО, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșаĐșОД-ŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃЎДлŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” бŃал ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ, ĐœŃ Đž ŃŃĐŸ Оз ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃŃлаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·!» «ĐŃ ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐčĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃŃŃОл Đ±Ń ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°ŃĐžŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ”?» «ĐĐŸŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» ĐŃ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń Đž бДзŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Đ”Ń ĐČОЎŃŃ ŃŃĐž, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń, ĐŽŃŃжДлŃĐ±ĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃŃпДла, ĐșаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃпОл ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃĐ”Đč ŃжД ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃлОŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐаŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃала ĐČĐ”ŃĐž, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Đ”Ń Đ»ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃга, ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐŃĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ. ЧŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐаŃĐČаŃŃ, ĐаŃŃŃ ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐżŃаĐČЎа». ĐĐŸĐŽŃŃга Đ°Ń ĐœŃла ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа?!» Đа ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: «ĐĐŸ-пДŃĐČŃŃ , ĐŒŃ Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžŃĐșĐ»ŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșаĐșĐžŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабŃŃĐșа. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Đ»ŃбОŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ». ĐаŃĐČаŃа ĐžŃĐżŃŃŃĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. «ĐĐŸâŠ Đ ĐșаĐș жД ŃДбŃĐœĐŸĐș? РазĐČĐ” ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃŃĐżŃОз?» «РŃŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Ń Đ»Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃŃŃĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ĐлО ŃжаŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - ĐаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃа Đž ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ. - Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃазĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. ĐĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ». «ХДŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ, ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ? ĐąŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ°? - Ń Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃлО ŃŃ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ŃДбД ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ŃĐčŃĐž Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐœŃŃ ŃаŃŃО». «ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ, Ń ŃжД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ŃДЎĐșŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ. «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! ĐаŃа, ŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃŃ Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃаŃĐŸĐč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃĐ”? - Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČŃпалОла ĐаŃĐČаŃа. - ĐŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃаŃŃĐ”! ĐŻ ĐČŃДгЎа ĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐČ ŃДбŃ! ĐąŃ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń! ĐĐ”ŃДгОŃŃ, ĐŒĐžŃ! ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃаДŃŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ, ĐĄĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа! ĐĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ ŃаŃŃŃаŃĐžĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ” ŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐĐœ ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ!» «ХĐČĐ”ŃĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ° йОŃĐŸĐČа...» - ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐ»ŃŃаĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забŃŃŃĐč ĐżŃĐ”ĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. РаЎО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃла ŃДбŃ, ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž забŃĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ. «ĐаŃа», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. ĐĐ·ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃĐČ, ĐаŃŃŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đž ŃĐČОЎДла за ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșа ĐČ ĐŽŃŃ ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! ЧŃĐŸ ĐČŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”ŃĐ”?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃалО ĐČŃаŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ , Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. ĐапŃĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ заĐČĐ”ŃŃОла ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа Đ»ŃбŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČа. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń? ĐаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”?» - ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃ ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČаŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «Я... ĐŃĐŸŃŃО». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒŃĐșĐœŃĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đž, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃŃДл, бŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸĐŽŃ. - ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒ ĐŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃŃŃ ĐżŃДбŃĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃĐżŃŃŃĐČĐ°Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŒĐŸŃĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃŃал лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐаŃĐČаŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń ŃŃĐżŃŃĐł ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐŸŃпОŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃĐœĐșа ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, ŃĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ±Ń ŃаĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐĐœĐž ŃОЎДлО ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐž ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐаŃŃĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ· ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐœĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ЧŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ?» ĐĐłĐŸ глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгал ĐаŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ°Ń Đș ŃДалŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. «ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ°. «ĐĐ”ŃжДлО?» - Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ ĐаŃŃĐž бДŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ заĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃŃла ŃĐŸŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ”Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ńа. «ĐŃлО ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃŃŃŃĐș, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃŃ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° заŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐș. ĐŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза ĐаŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === ĐĐ»Ń ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃаŃŃĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа. Đа заĐșŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČал. ĐаŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČа, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ŃжаŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ”Ń ĐŒŃж, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃŃ. ĐĄ ŃŃжŃĐ»ŃĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ, oĐœ ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐŸŃĐżŃŃŃĐžŃŃ... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact- | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact-rur25_2-1115-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=24136114349335317&rawadid=120214476964950319 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467352055_544286385008436_5759413136266443956_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BRtXvAaZV5wQ7kNvgHt-Yn7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ablgng3NnGAEiKACZKBs8s_&oh=00_AYBglHZCtJl_lc7tXK_mISxXJGdxAF6-sO-c1jvJw0HghA&oe=6749845B | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 896 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512887040790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466977536_8655463957877497_7014850365814883936_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ViRSugmCxjAQ7kNvgFqI6Z8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOmoKXq4_QUPjshF2MHRqam&oh=00_AYB0ccW73iGI_jzgfOPn4ZYAU778IhIj6c3qxT78zwBJnQ&oe=6749B0FB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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'{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}' |
Yes | 2024-11-24 19:16 | active | 1919 | 0 |
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Vuelve conmigo, amor mĂo | DespuĂ©s de tres años de matrimonio, su marido rara vez volvĂa a casa. La Ășnica vez que tenĂa intimidad con ella era para complacer a los mayores. El dĂa del difĂcil parto, su marido aviĂłn privado al extranjero con su amante. ÂĄDesconsolada, decidiĂł divorciarse de Ă©l! ===== Joelle Miller examinĂł minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atenciĂłn cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenĂa una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. HabĂa descubierto que, en los dĂas importantes, Nochebuena, San ValentĂn e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se habĂa ausentado de todos esos dĂas durante los Ășltimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron mĂĄs que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "ÂżLo ven? Ăl siempre guarda para mĂ la parte mĂĄs jugosa de una sandĂa". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "ÂĄY miren esta sorpresa! RecogiĂł de la iglesia un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para mĂ". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la Ășnica cuenta a la que Joelle seguĂa. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abriĂł. En la habitaciĂłn poco iluminada apareciĂł Adrian. Gotas de agua caĂan de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminaciĂłn, sus atractivos rasgos permanecĂan intactos. Joelle cerrĂł instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. HacĂa mucho tiempo desde la Ășltima vez que lo vio. Esa noche Ă©l no estaba ahĂ por decisiĂłn propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como querĂa un bisnieto con desesperaciĂłn, lo obligĂł a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabĂan que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirĂĄ si quedas e**arazada o no", declarĂł Adrian con una voz resonante. ÂżQuĂ© querĂa decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarrĂł del tobillo y la atrajo hacia Ă©l. Joelle palideciĂł ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensĂł de miedo. "ÂĄAdrian! Basta, no quiero...". EmpezĂł a luchar frenĂ©ticamente. Era una completa humillaciĂłn verse obligada a vivir en esa situaciĂłn con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, asĂ que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguĂĄntalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneciĂł a medida que la desesperaciĂłn se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difĂcil es mucho mĂĄs interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentĂł con rencor. DespuĂ©s de ducharse, se marchĂł sin mirar atrĂĄs, como si no quisiera quedarse mĂĄs tiempo ahĂ. Joelle no entendĂa quĂ© papel tenĂa en su vida. ÂżSolo era un juguete para su placer? ÂżO una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gĂ©lido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropĂł mĂĄs con su manta. No solo temblaba de frĂo, sino que sentĂa su corazĂłn desgarrado, ahora no conocĂa en absoluto al hombre que habĂa adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrĂĄs, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebiĂł demasiado. Cuando se despertĂł, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podĂa revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomĂł las riendas y organizĂł su matrimonio. Desde entonces, Ă©l estaba convencido de que Joelle lo habĂa hecho a propĂłsito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por mĂĄs que creyera que lo habĂa d**gado. DespuĂ©s de todo, habĂan crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendĂa todo. Para Ă©l, ella no era mĂĄs que la nefasta mujer que habĂa saboteado su relaciĂłn con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que Ă©l se veĂa en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostrarĂa esa misma ternura. No pudo contener mĂĄs las lĂĄgrimas y sucumbiĂł a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos tĂ©rminos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantĂł inusualmente temprano. DespuĂ©s de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajĂł las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada domĂ©stica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rĂĄpidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocĂa sus preferencias dietĂ©ticas. Joelle se tomĂł su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, Âżpor quĂ© anoche no convenciĂł a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentĂł Leah con simpatĂa. HabĂa sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que habĂa visto cĂłmo los dos se convertĂan de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostrĂł incĂłmoda, pero lo ocultĂł con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intentĂ©, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, Ă©l tenĂa el corazĂłn en otra parte. MĂĄs concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudĂł y agregĂł con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller estĂĄ muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañĂa tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrĂĄs, le habĂan reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, asĂ que entendĂa los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatĂa hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas debido a la tensiĂłn emocional. SĂ, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenĂa tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia RedenciĂłn en busca de un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompiĂł el silencio. Cuando Leah saliĂł del comedor, Joelle agarrĂł el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesĂł con voz ronca. CapĂtulo 2 En declive Joelle habĂa tomado una decisiĂłn: querĂa el divorcio. No tenĂa sentido seguir alargĂĄndolo. Tras un silencio atĂłnito, Katherine soltĂł una estridente carcajada. "ÂżTe quedarĂĄs con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ÂĄOh, por Dios! ÂĄJoelle, te convertirĂĄs en una multimillonaria!". "No, no serĂĄ asĂ". Joelle habĂa firmado un acuerdo cuando se casĂł con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibirĂa nada. "Entonces, Âżpor quĂ© te estĂĄs divorciando? ÂĄTienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordĂł la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, asĂ como la humillaciĂłn posterior. HabĂa sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por Ă©l la ayudarĂa a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabĂa que habĂa sido una completa tonta. ÂżEl sufrimiento hacĂa que Adrian la amara mĂĄs? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le harĂa sufrir. Joelle se rio de sĂ misma y cambiĂł de tema: "Por cierto, Âżrecuerdas el favor que te pedĂ?". "SĂ, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violĂn, aunque debo decir que serĂĄ un desperdicio de tu talento". "EstĂĄ bien", respondiĂł Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No serĂĄ un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "ÂżCĂłmo que no serĂĄ un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonioâŠ". Katherine se quedĂł en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. DespuĂ©s de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridĂculo. HacĂa tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibĂan tocar en pĂșblico. El primer dĂa de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerĂĄ en todo lo que necesites. Tu Ășnico trabajo es tener bebĂ©s y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminĂł su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subiĂł las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violĂn abandonado. HabĂa sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco despuĂ©s de recibirlo, este sufriĂł un derrame cerebral y cayĂł en coma. Su hermano mayor terminĂł asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, asĂ que la dejĂł perseguir su sueño de tocar el violĂn. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle moviĂł el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrĂĄs, un accidente le habĂa lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no habĂa vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentĂa en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confiĂł en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltĂł una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchĂł la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "ÂĄSeñor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavĂa se preocupaba por Joelle. QuizĂĄs si ella le decĂa algo amable, su relaciĂłn podrĂa mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venĂa a casa durante el dĂa. Apenas habĂa dejado el violĂn cuando se abriĂł la puerta. AhĂ estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle habĂa aprendido a tocar el violĂn cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la habĂa elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razĂłn, habĂa dejado de tocar. HacĂa un momento, la habĂa escuchado desde afuera y le pareciĂł una interpretaciĂłn mediocre. ÂżCĂłmo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo mirĂł y bajĂł la cabeza para volver a guardar el violĂn en su estuche. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae por aquĂ?", murmurĂł. "ÂżNecesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondiĂł Ă©l frĂamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el dĂa. De no ser por esa obligaciĂłn, Adrian no habrĂa regresado. Irene se enfadarĂa si no iban juntos. Joelle sonriĂł con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplĂa. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podĂa encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tĂș tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondiĂł. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezĂł a hervir dentro de Ă©l. Sin decir nada mĂĄs, se dirigiĂł al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque Ă©l no solĂa estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenĂa la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah tambiĂ©n podĂa hacer. Su Ășnica ventaja, tal vez, era ser mĂĄs joven y mĂĄs guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. TenĂa el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesĂł el corazĂłn. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declarĂł con una voz tan suave como la brisa. HabĂa agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintiĂł extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la mirĂł con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson estĂĄ en declive. Sin mi apoyo, Âżvas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caĂda de la familia Watson, Joelle pasĂł de ser amada a quedar en ridĂculo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podĂan librarse. Incluso sus momentos Ăntimos con Adrian la hacĂan sentir degradada. Joelle se mordiĂł el labio y se enderezĂł. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mĂo". Solo querĂa que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habĂan dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "ÂżY de dĂłnde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querĂas ser independiente, no deberĂas haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontrĂł entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. SĂ, habĂa utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, Âżlo que era suyo no era tambiĂ©n de Ă©l? AdemĂĄs, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les habĂa dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendĂa a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre habĂa despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con Ă©l era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejarĂa de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ÂżEstaba sugiriendo que ella debĂa salir del matrimonio con las manos vacĂas? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legĂtimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mĂo. Pero no te preocupes, no pedirĂ© mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedĂł paralizado y su mirada se agudizĂł. Sus labios formaron una fina lĂnea mientras apretaba la mandĂbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se habĂa preparado mentalmente, no podĂa soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponĂa mĂĄs ansiosa. De repente, sonĂł el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacĂł de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "ÂĄAdrian!". CapĂtulo 3 Siempre mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto La frustraciĂłn de Adrian crepitaba como estĂĄtica. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "ÂĄNo se trata de eso!", replicĂł Joelle. La habĂa malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazĂłn latiendo con urgencia, corriĂł tras Ă©l. "ÂĄAdrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejĂł de subir las escaleras y girĂł la cabeza. El celular en su mano habĂa dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, Âżno se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntĂł burlonamente con una mirada gĂ©lida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, Âżpor quĂ© no se lo dices tĂș misma a la abuela? ÂĄNo quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerrĂł de golpe detrĂĄs de Ă©l, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisiĂłn. Joelle se apoyĂł contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizĂł al suelo. Una risa amarga emergiĂł de sus labios. Irene habĂa organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se habĂa visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabĂa muy bien. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, lo mĂĄs efectivo serĂa hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estĂșpida parte de ella se habĂa aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo habĂa mencionado primero a Ă©l, porque lo veĂa como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidĂł un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca habĂa querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia habĂa sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella habĂa intentado pasarla por alto. Sus Ășltimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, deberĂa enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparĂł para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenĂa un vĂnculo muy especial con ella. En parte, habĂa aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. QuerĂa cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba mĂĄs. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecĂa consumirla. Era consciente de que Ă©l no la amaba. ÂĄNunca lo hizo y nunca lo harĂa! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonĂł su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "ÂżShawn? ÂżQuĂ© ocurre?". "ÂĄSeñora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca habĂa escuchado. Se le helĂł la s**gre y agarrĂł el celular con mĂĄs fuerza mientras permanecĂa en la escalera. "ÂżDĂłnde estĂĄ mi hermano? ÂżQuĂ© le pasĂł?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistiĂł a una reuniĂłn de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volverĂa a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistiĂł en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedĂł congelada y la furia recorriĂł sus venas. "ÂżErick no sabĂa que eso podrĂa matarlo?". "ÂĄErick es un s**vergĂŒenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chĂłferes de la familia Miller. ÂĄSeñora Miller, tiene que venir rĂĄpido! El señor Watson estĂĄ siendo operado y los mĂ©dicos han emitido dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂĄNo pude aguantar mĂĄs, asĂ que la llamĂ©!". El asistente parecĂa estar al borde de las lĂĄgrimas. Joelle sabĂa que Ă©l no se habrĂa puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situaciĂłn fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la habĂa protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrĂas que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debĂa estar en peligro. Joelle sintiĂł como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formĂł en su garganta. Al bajar del Ășltimo escalĂłn, tropezĂł y se cayĂł con fuerza, torciĂ©ndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolviĂł a la realidad y las lĂĄgrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "ÂĄOh, no, señora Miller, tenga mĂĄs cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corriĂł a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarrĂł el brazo de Leah con la visiĂłn borrosa a causa de las lĂĄgrimas. IntentĂł hablar, pero las palabras le salĂan entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ÂĄTengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintiĂł su urgencia y respondiĂł sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ÂĄLe pedirĂ© al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos despuĂ©s, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volviĂł hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazĂłn de la criada se ablandĂł. Incluso con el rostro pĂĄlido y surcado de lĂĄgrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ÂĄQuĂ© muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sĂ© quĂ© hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegĂł al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirĂłfano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomĂł. Joelle se acercĂł y lo encontrĂł arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. MĂĄs tarde habrĂa tiempo para eso. Cuando la condiciĂłn de Shawn fue mĂĄs estable, Joelle llevĂł al asistente a un lado. "CuĂ©ntamelo todo. ÂżCĂłmo ocurriĂł esto?". El asistente vacilĂł, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenĂł especĂficamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestiĂłn de vida o muerte. ÂżPiensas que todavĂa es una opciĂłn no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondiĂł el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea mĂĄs llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn habĂa luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrĂan desvanecido hacĂa mucho tiempo. Su deseo mĂĄs profundo era que su hermana viviera cĂłmodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecĂa por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguirĂa siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabĂa que no podĂa cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspirĂł profundamente y preguntĂł: "ÂżNo mencionaron mi relaciĂłn con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas mĂĄs difĂciles a usted". Joelle soltĂł una risa amarga. JamĂĄs habĂa estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podĂa soportarse a sĂ misma. Solo hacĂa una hora que le habĂa pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligiĂł personalmente. ÂĄMientras sea la señora Miller, mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrĂĄs de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenĂa una sonrisa frĂa en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frĂĄgil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a Ă©l. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se habĂa dado cuenta de que ella realmente no querĂa el divorcio. La mujer que habĂa parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su tĂtulo como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no habĂa sido mĂĄs que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacĂas. Era tan astuta que lo habĂa d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tĂĄcticas tan engañosas, ÂżcĂłmo podrĂa irse tan fĂĄcilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle serĂa una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciĂĄndose de Ă©l. CapĂtulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta HacĂa mucho que Joelle se habĂa vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. ObservĂł sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordĂł los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ÂĄQuĂ© pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeĂł. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, asĂ que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozĂł una leve sonrisa. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae al hospital?", preguntĂł mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicaciĂłn de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "TambiĂ©n vine a pedirte perdĂłn, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "ÂżDescuidado?", replicĂł ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mĂo, Âży crees que una disculpa bastarĂĄ para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeciĂł y agarrĂł la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondiĂł Ă©l con una voz tan gĂ©lida como el invierno. "No fue a propĂłsito". Luego, se volviĂł hacia Rebecca y agregĂł suavemente: "Vamos, Âżno viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendiĂł todo. HabĂa esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, habĂa venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, serĂa por obligaciĂłn, nada mĂĄs. Pero sabĂa que no debĂa esperar que Ă©l la defendiera. "ÂĄRebecca, no olvidarĂ© lo que hizo Erick!", espetĂł. Rebecca doblĂł las piernas y se desplomĂł sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapĂł justo a tiempo y la abrazĂł con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenĂa malas intenciones. ÂĄTambiĂ©n estĂĄ en el hospital!". "ÂżYa estĂĄ muerto? ÂĄSi no, tendrĂĄ que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solĂa arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la Ășnica familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperaciĂłn, y su madre habĂa fallecido en un accidente de trĂĄfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habĂan sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentĂĄndose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos mĂĄs oscuros, Shawn llevĂł sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasiĂłn por el violĂn. Ahora la idea de perderlo tambiĂ©n a Ă©l era insoportable. Su Ășnico deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ÂżcĂłmo puedes decir eso?", sollozĂł Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijĂł su frĂa mirada en Joelle. "ÂżQuĂ© deseas?". "Shawn recibiĂł dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂżQuĂ© hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeĂł, su frĂĄgil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ÂĄPor favor, ten compasiĂłn!". Se desmayĂł antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantĂł en sus brazos y le dio una Ășltima mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejĂł y la dejĂł clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareciĂł una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, habĂa sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtiĂł en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que habĂa sido. Ella solĂa ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sĂłlo para complacer a su marido. ÂĄQuĂ© patĂ©tico! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ÂżQuĂ© sucederĂĄ en adelante? Los capĂtulos disponibles son limitados aquĂ, haga click el botĂłn abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo mĂĄs contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederĂĄ a este libro) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa | Mobo-ReaderïŒFunny Reading | https://www.facebook.com/100077707484555/ | 39,211 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.manobook.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1200042107899505&rawadid=120211325121760639 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464384180_469564649472585_7286666045254923030_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cPLecaPiOKoQ7kNvgFcEbVO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7oKTmiSAoIjenBxeR0weqP&oh=00_AYCMlzuFrzLlbTRV4TbO3wpToTWG3su8c_8QFZeRWqbzvw&oe=6749A4D0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Mobo-ReaderïŒFunny Reading | 1 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ Đ”Đ” заĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла Ń ŃĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж. Đ ĐœĐ”ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ бДлŃĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала ŃĐ”ŃпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃĐ” аŃпДĐșŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșаŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đž Đ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃжДŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃЎОл Đș ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ·Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐŽŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃал ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа, глаĐČŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃжаŃĐœŃŃ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. Đ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Ńла Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČŃŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзла ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐœŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń . ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃĐŸŃŃŃĐČа. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸ, Đ”Ń Ń ĐžŃŃŃĐč ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐ” ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČŃŃ . ĐĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃОЎŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐČĐœŃĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. ĐŁŃĐžŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ” ЎаЎŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃОД ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. Đ, ĐČ ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃŃа, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО Đ±Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐœŃŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Ń Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла Đ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐșŃĐ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. РазŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐžŃĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐČŃŃазОŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐĐœ ŃаĐșжД ĐŸŃĐșазал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ŃĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ Đž запŃĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ»ŃĐŽŃĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đа ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°Ńала Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа, ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃЎОлŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĄĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ Ń ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž ŃаŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž плДŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃлДгĐșа ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐŒŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаŃŃŃŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐș Đ”Đč ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОŃŃ? Đ ŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ńла ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐżŃĐŸĐČДЎŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОла ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” ŃŃала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз зала Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐČ, а Đ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đ” плаŃŃĐ” ЎаĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»ŃĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ ŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ĐČĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đž ŃЎаŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČзглŃĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃДлŃĐŸĐș ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃДлŃ, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃĐŸ...» ĐĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлО ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŸĐ». ĐŃŃа ĐșĐ°ĐœŃДлŃŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč Ńпала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đș Đ”Ń ŃДД ĐżŃОжалŃŃ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč Đș*аĐč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ ĐŸ!» - ŃĐČĐžŃĐ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ДЎĐČа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃазглŃĐŽĐ”ŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃЎДлŃлОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”ŃŃалО ĐČ ŃŃŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ бЎОŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž. Đ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐžŃал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·Đ°, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ĐČŃаŃа, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐŸĐłŃ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃŃŃ Đ°ŃаĐșĐŸĐČаŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ŃĐŸ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč Ńжал Đ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ” Đž ĐżŃОжал Đș ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐĐŽŃŃĐł ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ŃĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «ĐŃŃŃŃДД, Ń ĐČОЎДла, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ» ŃŃЎа!» ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐžĐșа ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž, Đž ŃŃĐž Đ»ŃĐŽĐž ĐČĐŸŃĐČалОŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČал ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃала Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ Đž бŃла ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃŃлО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐžĐœŃĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đș ŃДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Ń. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃĐœŃĐ». ĐĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽĐ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ Đ°: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸÂ». ĐĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃгаŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐž за ŃŃĐŸ бŃаŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃлОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОл, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃДагОŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČŃĐș. ĐĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃĐŒ, Đ”ŃлО Đ±Ń Đ»ŃĐŽĐž за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО. «Ч*ŃŃ ĐČ*Đ·ŃĐŒĐž! Đа ŃŃĐŸ жД ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸŃĐșа. ЧŃĐČаĐș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐĐŒĐ”ĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃОлОŃĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń ĐžĐ· ĐșĐŸŃĐžĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐžĐșал ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČаŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ŃĐșŃŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ· ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. «ЧŃĐŸ ж, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐŃĐŸŃ ŃблŃĐŽĐŸĐș ŃŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃДлŃĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, Ń ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐČаŃĐžŃ ŃОл ŃЎДлаŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ». «ĐĐŸ, ŃŃĐČаĐș, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœŃĐ” Đ·ĐČŃĐșĐž, а?» «ĐаŃĐșĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОĐČаĐčŃŃ! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșаĐș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșĐŸŃДД, ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ!» ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŸŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŸŃОлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃ, а ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČаŃДлО ŃŃлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐČалŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃĐž Đ·Đ°Ń Đ»Đ”ŃŃĐœŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐ» ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃĐž, ОлО ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșаĐș ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșаŃалОŃŃ ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐŽŃŃга, а ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń Đ±ŃŃŃ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃОлОĐČĐ” аЎŃĐ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐœŃаŃŃĐșĐ°Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đșа, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·ŃĐ”ĐČала. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа жОла ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃ, ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒĐž. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз - Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń Ńаз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃĐČĐŸĐž запŃĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžĐč, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž заĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐżŃĐžĐŽŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃал ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. РзаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃŃĐ», ŃаĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșаĐș Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ». ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. йОŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃŃОл Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДлаŃŃ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ»Đ”Đ¶ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Ńпал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ! - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -Đ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДзлО паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа. ĐĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃОл ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐŒŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃŃ!» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃОла ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃŃал ŃĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃŃбĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃЎДла ŃДбŃ. ĐĐœĐ° Đž ĐČĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаŃĐœŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃĐ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ОлО ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлДЎŃŃĐČĐžŃŃ . ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐœŃŃ ŃĐșŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐž. ĐĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃа ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, ŃжД блОзОлŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐș жД ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃжалОŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, а ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ”ŃлОŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ бŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČĐŸŃла Ń Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČŃЎаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ»ŃбĐșŃ: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа». «ĐалŃŃĐ” Ń ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃŃŃ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń, Đž ĐżŃĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла бŃĐŸĐČĐž. - ЧŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČалŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ń?» ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐč, Ń ŃĐ»ŃŃаĐčĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐžŃ . ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżŃОбДŃĐžŃŃ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃала, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżŃОЎала ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃ ŃазбŃĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ДЎĐČа ŃŃпДла ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, а за ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐлаĐČа 2 ЧŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ Â«ĐŃĐŸ ĐČŃаŃ, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. - ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃŃĐ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ŃаблОŃĐșŃ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃĐ” ĐŻĐœŃ. «ĐĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ”. «ĐŃЎа ĐŒŃ ĐžĐŽŃĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ. ĐĐœ Ń ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃĐŒŃĐ”. ĐĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа жЎаŃŃ». ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”ŃĐ” ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ŃĐŽĐŸŃаĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃĐŸĐ” ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžĐœŃжЎŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, а ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ŃĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐ”ŃДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐč глаз Đž ĐżŃĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐ”Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đ±ŃлО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃДзĐșĐžĐč Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃДЎŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒ бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃĐșŃŃĐČал Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐžŃŃŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃаĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ĐșŃаŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃОД Đ±Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃĐžŃ . Đ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОŃа ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČалаŃŃ Đ¶ŃŃŃĐșĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±ŃĐČал ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐžŃ ŃŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃДпŃаŃŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸ: «ĐĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž Ń ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃĐž бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ŃĐșĐŸŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃЎДлалО ĐČаŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČŃОД. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃ Đž ŃбŃалО ĐČŃĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃĐ” ŃлОĐșĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа, ЎДжŃŃĐžĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃЎОл ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŻ ŃаĐșжД пДŃДпŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОл запОŃĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ ŃДзĐșĐŸ пДŃĐ”Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ пДŃДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОО «ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ». «ĐŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ”Ń Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżŃĐžĐłĐœŃла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃĐŸĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. «Đа... Đ-ŃŃĐŸ бŃла Ń», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОД Đș ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ. ĐŃĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” заŃŃаĐČĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалД ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалОŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžĐșĐž. Đ Ń ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐș ŃаĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŸŃŃаŃлО Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃĐŸĐłĐ” бŃĐŽŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃа ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșаŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃŃĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃлО Ńж ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż Đș ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃŃŃĐ”, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃĐ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃжОŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ЎажД бŃаĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŒŃŃлО Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ лОŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃŃĐ»Ń ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃОла жŃŃŃĐșŃŃ Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń ŃŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČŃŃал ĐĐžŃалОĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃа ЎаŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃĐœŃĐč ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đž ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. «РŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐșазалŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ, Đž ĐČŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ, ĐșаĐș бŃĐŽŃĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃŃ Đž ŃĐșазал: «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». «ĐĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸÂ», - заĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽŃŃŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «ĐаŃалŃĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃОлŃŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČŃ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ бŃаĐș ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ ĐČаŃĐžĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐгаŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ŃлДЎŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃĐșазаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ». ĐŃĐ±Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃŃĐœŃлОŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ”, а лОŃĐŸ Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ заŃŃаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ. «йДбД ŃŃĐŸ, жОŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃОгŃĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșазал ŃĐŸ, ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ»ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃа - ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃŃа ОлО ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐžĐč за ĐČŃĐ”ŃаŃĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ЎДлОŃŃ Ń ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа ŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ Đ»Đ”Ń, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČа, ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОла Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ бДŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČĐŸ. «ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ° бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃлДзОлОŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃĐŸ, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ. ĐŃ ĐŒŃŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлОŃŃ Đș ĐżŃДЎŃĐŽŃŃĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșаĐș Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃалО ĐłĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș Đ±Ń ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐżĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃ Đ±ŃлО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Ńла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±Ńла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃлО ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐČДлО ĐžŃ Đș ĐœŃĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ŃаĐșŃ ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ ŃаĐșŃĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐČĐ»ŃŃŃŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ĐœĐ”Ń: «ĐŃ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃĐ” ŃаĐș ŃĐșĐŸŃĐŸ? ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Ń ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ńала ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČŃŃаĐșаŃŃ?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. «ĐĐ”Ń, Ń ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ». ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃла Đ”Đč ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșа: «ĐŃпДĐčŃĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ. ĐŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃДД». «ХпаŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”Ńла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ŃĐŸĐłŃĐ”ŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. «ĐĐ” за ŃŃĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃĐ±ĐœŃлаŃŃ ŃĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșа. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș Đž бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐČŃŃĐŸĐșа. ĐажД бДз ŃĐžŃŃла Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœŃĐč ĐČŃаŃ, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Đ”Ń Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃла ŃŃаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐĐžĐșŃĐŸŃОО Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃла ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° пДŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ заĐčŃĐž ĐČ ŃŃаŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ŃапОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃаЎала ĐŸŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșŃĐžŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ĐĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐ”ŃĐž бŃла пДŃĐ”ŃаЎĐșа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃаŃ, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±Ń ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° бŃаĐș, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ŃĐłŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃĐ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО. йДпДŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń, ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐčŃĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃа ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃĐŸŃОла ĐłĐŸŃŃĐșĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ: «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ°, Ń ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃлДŃŃ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃаŃ». ĐŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ŃĐ°ĐŒŃĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”ŃжĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ лОŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŽĐŸŃŃала ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșаŃĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. «ĐОла, - ŃазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃĐ»Ńгѻ. ĐлаĐČа 3 ЧаŃŃĐœŃĐč паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐĐœĐž ŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”, Ń ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃаŃŃĐ” Đ”Ń. ĐаŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ŃДпДŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐșŃпДŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃĐž. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ ĐŸ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «РĐșаĐșĐŸĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃгД ОЎŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃ?» - ĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐœŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐčŃŃ ĐČ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž Ń ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčŃДД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒĐž паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐșŃŃĐ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸŃ ŃаŃпОŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”, Đž, Đ”ŃлО ĐœĐ” ŃŃĐžŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃаĐșŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Đа, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃЎа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃŃ ŃДбД аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃЎа, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ŃĐșажО ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃ ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ. «ĐĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлОŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. «ĐŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ”-ŃŃĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ ŃŃал ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒ. - ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐž Đž ĐœĐ” заЎаĐČаĐč лОŃĐœĐžŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДбД ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃлДŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа». «ЯŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐčŃŃ», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃалОŃŃ, Đž ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ Đș паŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃаĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. ĐаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃлаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐалаŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČа. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃĐž Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș ĐżŃОглаŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐČĐœŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ńла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃŃĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ. ЧДŃДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ бŃла ŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșазалаŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃŃ. «ĐŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ”, ĐČŃâŠÂ» - ĐœĐ°Ńала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ· ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃжД ŃЎДлала ĐČŃĐČĐŸĐŽ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐœŃŃĐČĐŸ, Đž ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃла ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐ”. «ĐĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃЎа», - ŃĐșазала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐœŃĐ» ĐœĐ° апŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐ”Ńжала: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ŃŃĐŸ ЎДлаŃŃ?» «Đа, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŸŃ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃОО. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃОалŃĐœĐŸŃŃО», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœĐ” пДŃДЎал Đ±Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” заŃĐ»ŃжОĐČĐ°Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐČĐ”ŃĐŽĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃŃŃОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ лДŃŃĐœĐžŃĐ” ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «ĐаĐș Ń Đ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ Đ»Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз ŃĐČĐ”Ńа?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОл ŃĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОŃĐŸ. «ĐĐșĐ»ŃŃĐž ŃĐČДѻ, - ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń ŃĐșĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐČŃĐșĐ»ŃŃаŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ŃŃĐșĐžĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń. ĐĐ”ŃĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń Đ±ŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа бŃĐ» ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐŒŃŃлДĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, лДжаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž, ŃŃŃ Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃбаŃĐșа бŃла ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ заŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ”Đč ĐșŃĐŸĐČĐž. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐČЎаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž Đž ŃĐ”ŃОла ŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń . ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДл ĐČŃЎаĐČаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃОлОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃала Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃĐ°ĐŒĐž ŃазŃДзала ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ”ĐœŃа, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” бŃлО ĐżĐŸĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃлО. ĐĐœĐ° ŃбŃала ĐČŃŃ Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń, ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŃОД ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżŃаĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ńала лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаĐČ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, а Đ”Ń ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ±ŃлО бŃŃŃŃŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃĐžĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃŃŃ Đ»Đž Ń ĐČĐ°Ń Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”ŃĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°ĐœŃ Đ±ŃлО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČŃДЎОлО лОŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐżŃĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃаŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń Đ”Ń Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Đ”Ń. «ĐДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœŃĐŒ Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ ĐČалŃŃ Đ”Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃпОла Đș ĐżŃĐžĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃДзОО, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Đ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐł ŃĐ°Đœ. ĐĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČОД ĐżŃДпаŃаŃа, ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐČŃ. ĐŃĐžĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃДз ŃĐ°Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃОла. Đ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ Đž ŃŃпДŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐșĐž Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐœĐ” ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃŃ». «ĐŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·ĐŸĐČаŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·Ń», - ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ŃпалŃĐœŃ. УбДЎОĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° пДŃĐČŃĐč ŃŃаж, ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃŃĐ» ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОл Đș ĐĐžŃалОŃ. «Я ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČŃОД ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ°Ń ĐČŃĐ”Ńа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ, ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ°ĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČаŃ, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃлД ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐČŃ ĐČŃŃĐžŃлОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČаŃĐ”Đč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč заŃŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, ŃŃажОĐČаŃŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐșŃĐ°Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž Đž ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ŃлабŃĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃŃ ĐœŃлО ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃĐŒ блДŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° пДŃĐ”ĐČŃĐ» ĐżŃĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșа. «ĐŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐșаĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃŃŃĐŒŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŸĐœ. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: «Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ŃĐČŃзалŃŃ Ń ĐČаŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐ”ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐĐžŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČŃЎаŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃаŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃĐžĐČал ĐČаŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ ĐŸĐŽŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ńа. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». «ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” пДŃĐ”ŃŃаŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐ»ŃŃŃ ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐČДѻ, - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč. Đа ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃŃŃŃŃŃĐČĐžŃ ĐĐžŃалОŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ Đ±ŃĐ» Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°Đœ ĐĐ»ŃŃ. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐĐ»ŃĐž Đ”ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°Ń ŃЎалŃĐč Đ±Đ°Ń "КаŃĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃĐ” ĐŃбаŃŃĐșаŃ», - ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐœŃĐ» ĐĐžŃалОĐč. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» Ń ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа. «Đа, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ŃĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐ»Ńб ŃŃал ĐžŃ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐžŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž Đ”ŃлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ заĐșŃĐŸŃŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃОЎŃŃŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐłĐŸÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «ĐĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒÂ», - ŃĐșазал ĐĐžŃалОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ŃŃал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșŃаĐČŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐżŃŃĐșалŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐĐœ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», ŃŃĐŸ Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐœŃŃŃŃĐșŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ŃĐ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ”ĐșŃа: «ĐŃлО ĐČŃ ŃаŃŃĐșажДŃĐ” ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ, ĐČĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń ŃжаŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ», - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ĐŃлО ŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃаĐČĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃŃŃĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ŃĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃзаŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃĐ·Ń. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла: «Я ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ŃаĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐŒŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐčĐŽŃ». ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃпалŃĐœŃ, ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°ŃŃжОла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ, ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. ĐĐœ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐžŃĐŸĐșОД плДŃĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃŃŃĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒ, ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ. «ĐŃ ŃазĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃŃлО?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒ-ŃĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐČал Đ”Ń. ĐлаĐČа 4 ĐĄŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșа ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ, ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ. ĐŃĐŸŃĐžŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. ĐаĐș Đ±Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž бŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ Đ¶Đ” бŃла ĐČŃаŃĐŸĐŒ. «ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŒĐŸŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ŃĐ°ĐœŃ. ĐĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃĐžŃĐžŃŃĐčŃĐ” ĐžŃ Ńаз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃĐ” ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ” ŃŃбаŃĐșĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃажаŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ». ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃаĐČОла бŃŃŃĐ»ĐŸŃĐșŃ Ń ŃаблДŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃбОĐș Ń ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃĐșŃ. «Я ĐŸŃŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃŃĐž лДĐșаŃŃŃĐČа». ĐĐžŃалОĐč ŃŃĐŸ-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃал ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃДлŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșазала Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃла ĐČОллŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ŃжД ĐżĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃаŃŃ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐșŃŃĐžŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐČа ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ”Ń ĐČŃĐ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČĐČŃаŃа. «Я ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐŻĐœŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃĐ°Đ»Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșŃ», - ŃĐșазал глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” ŃĐ”ŃĐżŃŃĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° бŃла ĐżĐŸŃŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸ Ń ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃ ŃжД ŃĐ”ŃОлО ĐŸŃĐżŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» «ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, Ń ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”Đœ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃĐ”Ń ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐżĐŸŃаŃОДĐč "ĐаŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°ŃĐœŃ". ĐŃĐ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐčŃĐž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐżŃĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐĐžŃалОŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐž Đž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžŃОалŃĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃалОŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃŃĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ŃДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ĐĄĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ŃĐșĐœŃĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаĐČалаŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. «ĐĐŸŃ ĐșаĐș?» «Đа, Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ, Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ ŃŃĐșĐž. ĐĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃаĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ , ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐŸŃДл ŃŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșаĐș. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃЎДлŃлаŃŃ ŃŃДЎО ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ ŃĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃĐžĐșĐ”. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» Đ”Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”Ń ĐŸŃŃалŃĐœŃŃ . «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń», - ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОла ŃДбД, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃŃаОĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐžĐ·-за ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃаŃДлŃŃŃĐČа ĐĐžŃалОŃ. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» ĐČŃĐœŃĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, Đ”ŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃаŃŃŃĐžŃŃĐČаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. «ĐĐœĐ” Đ”ŃŃ ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČĐžŃŃŃŃ Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃОО, ŃаĐș ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ», - ŃĐŒĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ŃĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń ŃЎДлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ. ĐлаĐČĐČŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń ŃĐœŃŃĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃзОлаŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃŃажОŃĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃĐŸĐČДла ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŸĐżĐ”ŃаŃĐžŃ, заŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃла ŃĐČĐŸŃ Ń ĐžŃŃŃгОŃĐ”ŃĐșŃŃ ŃĐŸŃĐŒŃ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐČ ĐČĐČĐ”ŃŃ , ŃŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ плŃŃ ĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐ». ĐĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃĐžĐœŃŃ ĐČĐŸŃла ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŽŃаĐČŃŃĐČŃĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃŃ. - ĐąŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ? ĐĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»Ń ŃĐłĐŸŃŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ĐĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐŒĐž ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐČ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐž бŃлО ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, а ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃОлО ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž ŃĐŸŃ Đ¶Đ” ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž ŃĐŸ жД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐŸĐč Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČŃДгЎа Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČаŃŃŃŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșаŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃДД ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃДЎŃ, ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃĐžŃала ĐŸŃŃаĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž бŃла ĐżĐŸĐłŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐșазаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž бŃлО абŃĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ лаЎОлО. «Đ, ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, - ŃĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃглŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ-ŃĐŸ ŃĐŒŃŃŃĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - ĐĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”-ŃĐŸ Ń Ń ĐŸŃДла Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ ŃŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ». ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃ ŃĐșаŃŃĐžĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ Ń Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃО», - ŃĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃ. ĐąĐŸŃ ŃаĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ”Ń ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ŃаĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ŃĐČŃзалаŃŃ Ń ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃЎалОл ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń ĐŸŃ ĐŻĐœŃ. «йŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃала, Ўа? ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃâŠÂ» «ĐŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐșД», - пДŃДбОла ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Đ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃĐșазала Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «РДŃŃ, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐ”ŃĐ” ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”Ńа ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ ĐČŃŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃŃалŃĐœŃĐč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐč ĐłĐŸŃпОŃалŃ, Ń ĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃŃба ĐŻĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč, ĐĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ŃĐșажŃ». Đ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃалĐșĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃДзĐČŃŃаĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐŸŃŃДлŃŃŃĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. Đа ŃĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐŸŃОО Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ. Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ŃОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń Đ±Ńла ĐżŃОпаŃĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° Ń ĐČĐŸŃĐŸŃ. «ĐŃ, - ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, пДŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐŸŃлОŃĐœŃĐ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐœĐ” ŃаĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃОЎДл ĐĐžŃалОĐč, ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐœŃĐČŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșŃ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŃ. ĐĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČŃаŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč лДŃОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșаĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž бŃлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃ. Đа ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐżĐŸŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Đ”Ń ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐž. «ĐŃĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐžŃалОĐč ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОл ŃŃĐ”ĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșаĐș Ńаз ĐČ ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃла Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ”. ĐŃĐŸĐČĐž Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлОŃŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœ ŃĐșазал: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Ń ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлŃŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃа Đž ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл: «ĐŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ” Đ”Ń?» Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃĐŽ заблДŃŃДл ĐŸŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃŃŃĐČа. «ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃŃŃĐŽĐ”ĐœŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃĐŒ ŃĐœĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃД». ĐĐžŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐżŃŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐ»ŃŃал ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃпаŃла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДŃОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ? «ĐŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŽŃба?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃОла ЎаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ? «ĐаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃŃŃŃ?» - ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ€ŃĐŽĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, пДŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 896 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512742180790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466479457_2758529560984914_1488169500030335713_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7t6zU6x9FEkQ7kNvgG9jBk2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AmtvEJfDbQ2d1QyU_vQy4E9&oh=00_AYCNZXuVUTMNeyqfqKouyHIyg9uLEBCnnyikTulWqNTjvg&oe=6749B102 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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'{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}' |
Yes | 2024-11-24 19:17 | active | 1919 | 0 |
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NĂ€chstes Kapitel lesenđđđ | Die Protagonistin hatte sich darauf gefreut, mit Protagonist ihre kranke GroĂmutter zu besuchen, aber stattdessen stieĂ sie auf den Mann, der den Termin mit ihrer ersten Liebe wahrgenommen hatte ...... ===== âHerzlichen GlĂŒckwunsch, du wirst Mutter!" Seit heute Nachmittag konnte Raegan Hayes sie nur noch an die Worte des Arztes denken. Mitchel war ihr Ehemann. Sie waren zwei Jahre lang heimlich verheiratet gewesen. Er war ihr Vorgesetzter bei der Arbeit, der PrĂ€sident der Dixon Group. Alles war so schnell passiert. Sobald sie in die Firma eintrat, heirateten sie unerwartet. Damals Mitchels GroĂvater schwer krank. Damn schlug er eine Scheinehe vor, nur um den letzten Wunsch seines GroĂvaters zu erfĂŒllen. Sie unterzeichneten einen Ehevertrag und stimmten zu, ihre Ehe vor der Ăffentlichkeit geheim zu halten. Ihre Gewerkschaft kann jederzeit aufgelöst werden. Es war eine unkonventionelle Vorgehensweise. Raegan schĂ€tzte sich zu diesem Zeitpunkt jedoch nur glĂŒcklich. Niemals hĂ€tte sie gedacht, dass sie jemals den Mann heiraten wĂŒrde, in den sie acht Jahre lang verknallt war. Sie stimmte freudig zu. Nach ihrer Hochzeit war Mitchel sehr beschĂ€ftigt. Die meiste Zeit verbrachte er mit Arbeit. Raegan wĂŒnschte, sie könnte mehr Zeit mit ihm zu Hause verbringen. Sie war jedoch beruhigt, weil es in den letzten zwei Jahren keine GerĂŒchte oder Skandale ĂŒber ihn mit Frauen gegeben hatte. Abgesehen von seiner leichten GleichgĂŒltigkeit war Mitchel ein perfekter Ehemann. Raegan hatte gemischte GefĂŒhle, als sie das Ergebnis des Schwangerschaftstests betrachtete. Am Ende beschloss sie, Mitchel die Wahrheit zu sagen. Sie wollte ihm auch sagen, dass sie nicht erst vor zwei Jahren zum ersten Mal von ihm erfahren hatte und dass sie schon viele Jahre zuvor in ihn verknallt gewesen war. Die Dusche im Badezimmer ging endlich aus. Sobald Mitchel herauskam, klingelte sein Telefon. Nur ging er auf den Balkon und nahm das Telefon ab. Raegan sah auf die Uhr und stellte fest, dass es bereits Mitternacht war. Sie fĂŒhlte sich ein wenig unwohl. Wer wĂŒrde Mitchel zu dieser unchristlichen Stundeanrufen? Mitchel verbrachte ein paar Minuten auf dem Balkon. Danach kehrte er ins Zimmer zurĂŒck und nahm sein Hemd und seine Anzughose vom Bett. Er zog sie an und verknotete dann die Krawatte mit seinen schlanken Fingern Sein hĂŒbsches Gesicht mit den klaren Konturen verlieh ihm heute Abend ein wĂŒrdevolleres Aussehen. Er war jetzt eine Augenweide. âWarte nicht auf mich. Gute Nacht", sagte er schlieĂlich. Was? Er war auf dem Weg nach drauĂen? Um diese Uhrzeit? Raegans Griff um das Ergebnis des Schwangerschaftstests wurde fester, als sie ihn enttĂ€uscht anstarrte. Unbewusst zog sie sich leicht zurĂŒck. Nachdem sie eine Weile nachgedacht hatte, platzte es heraus: âEs ist schon so spĂ€t." Mitchels Finger erfroren an seiner Krawatte. âSei brav, okay?" Ich muss etwas tun. Warte nicht." Damit ging er zur TĂŒr. âMitchel." Raegan rannte schnell los und holte ihn ein. Mitchel drehte sich um und sah sie ernst an. âWas ist los?" In seiner Stimme lag ein Hauch von KĂ€lte. Eine eisige Wolke hing ĂŒber ihnen, als sie einander anstarrten. Ein wenig verzweifelt fragte Raegan mit leiser Stimme: âIch möchte morgen meine Oma besuchen. Kannst du mich dorthin begleiten?" Gebrechlich und krank, wollte ihre GroĂmutter sie immer sehen. Deshalb wollte Raegan Mitchel dorthin bringen, um ihrer GroĂmutter zu versichern, dass sie glĂŒcklich waren. âLass uns morgen darĂŒber reden, ok?" Ohne zuzustimmen oder abzulehnen, verlieĂ Mitchel eilig den Raum. Mehrere Gedanken gingen Raegan durch den Kopf, als sie duschte und sich wieder ins Bett legte. Sie konnte kein Auge zutun. Nachdem sie sich lange hin und her gewĂ€lzt hatte, stand sie auf und machte sich ein warmes Glas Milch. Auf ihrem Telefon gingen einige Benachrichtigungen von Online-Blogs ein. Sie war jedoch nicht an ihnen interessiert. Sie wollte sie gerade wegschieben, als einer von ihnen ihre Aufmerksamkeit erregte. Der vertraute Name lieĂ sie darauf klicken. In der Nachricht hieĂ es: âDie berĂŒhmte Designerin Lauren Murray wurde heute mit ihrem mysteriösen Freund am Flughafen gesichtet." Lauren trug einen Anglerhut. Die Gestalt des Mannes war vage, aber die Umrisse seines Körpers reichten aus, um zu erkennen, dass er schneidig war. Raegan zoomte in das Bild hinein. Im nĂ€chsten Moment sank ihr das Herz. Mitchel war auf dem Bild! Also hat er das Nachmittagstreffen abgesagt, nur um seine Ex-Freundin vom Flughafen abzuholen? Diese Erkenntnis setzte sich wie ein Felsbrocken in Ragans Magen fest und brachte sie aus der Fassung. Ihre HĂ€nde zitterten. Unbewusst wĂ€hlte sie Mitchels Nummer. Der WĂ€hlton brachte sie wieder zur Besinnung. Gerade als sie auflegen wollte, wurde die Leitung verbunden und am anderen Ende ertönte eine Stimme. "Hallo!" Es war eine besonders sanfte Frauenstimme. Raegan erstarrte fĂŒr eine Sekunde und warf dann das Telefon weg. Ihr war plötzlich schlecht. Ihr stieg die Galle in die Kehle. Sie hielt sich den Mund zu, rannte ins Bad und ĂŒbergab sich in die ToilettenschĂŒssel. Am nĂ€chsten Morgen ging Raegan pĂŒnktlich zur Arbeit. Mitchel had tried to get her to stop working after the wedding. Sie bestand hartnĂ€ckig darauf, ihr eigenes Geld zu verdienen. Mitchel widersetzte sich ihrer Entscheidung nicht, aber er bat sie, als seine Assistentin zu arbeiten und ihm bei den tĂ€glichen Aufgaben zu helfen. Der Chefassistent Matteo Jenkins musste sich um die wichtigen Angelegenheiten von Mitchel kĂŒmmern. Matteo war der einzige Mitarbeiter der Dixon-Gruppe, der von ihrer Ehe wusste. Seit der GrĂŒndung wurden nur mĂ€nnliche Assistenten fĂŒr das BĂŒro des PrĂ€sidenten eingestellt. Reagan war die erste und einzige Frau. Ihre Anstellung stellte einen VerstoĂ gegen das Protokoll dar. Infolgedessen konnten andere Arbeitnehmer nicht umhin, sich zu fragen, ob sie mit Mitchel zusammen war. Es dauerte eine Weile, bis ihnen klar wurde, dass Mitchel Raegan nie eine Sonderbehandlung zukommen lieĂ. Seltsamerweise steigerte dies ihre Verachtung noch mehr. SchlieĂlich wĂŒrde es niemand lange aushalten, wenn er ihr Aussehen ausnutzen wĂŒrde. Daher war es seltsam, dass Raegan ihren Job so lange behielt. Zu diesem Zeitpunkt ĂŒbergab einer von Ragans Kollegen ihr ein Dokument und befahl ihr, es in Mitchels BĂŒro zu bringen. Mitchel ist letzte Nacht nicht nach Hause gekommen. Raegan war so besorgt, dass sie ĂŒberhaupt nicht mehr schlafen konnte. Alles, woran sie denken konnte, war die Frau, die an sein Telefon ging, als sie anrief. Raegan kannte die Antwort darauf bereits, aber sie versuchte es noch immer nicht. Es war schwierig fĂŒr sie, die Tatsache zu akzeptieren. Raegan versuchte jetzt, ruhig zu bleiben. Sie war der Meinung, dass sie, egal was passierte, ein Ergebnis verdiente, das sie fĂŒr all die Jahre, die sie in der Liebe zu Mitchel verbracht hatte, belohnen wĂŒrde. Das kann doch nicht alles umsonst gewesen sein, oder? Sie drĂŒckte ruhig den Aufzugsknopf und fuhr hinauf in das BĂŒro des PrĂ€sidenten. Bevor sie den Aufzug verlieĂ, glĂ€ttete sie ihr Haar, um sicherzugehen, dass sie gut aussah. Als sie im BĂŒro ankam, stellte sie fest, dass die TĂŒr einen Spalt breit geöffnet war. Es ertönte eine MĂ€nnerstimme. Sie blieb sofort stehen. âKomm schon, Mann! Hast du GefĂŒhle fĂŒr Raegan oder nicht?" Die Stimme gehörte Luis Stevens, einem Jugendfreund von Mitchel. "Was meinst du genau?" fragte Mitchel mit kalter Stimme. "Du weiĂt genau, was ich meine!" Luis schnalzte ungeduldig mit der Zunge und fĂŒgte hinzu: âIch finde, Raegan ist ein gutes MĂ€dchen. Ist sie nicht dein Typ?" âWollen Sie, dass ich sie Ihnen ĂŒbergebe?" fragte Mitchel beilĂ€ufig. âWeiĂt du was, vergiss es!" Das höhnische Lachen von Luis klang in Ragans Ohren besonders rau. Sie sprachen ĂŒber sie, als wĂ€re sie ein Gegenstand. Bald war Luis' Stimme wieder zu hören. âĂbrigens habe ich heute Morgen die Klatschnachrichten ĂŒber Laurens mysteriösen Freund gesehen. Das warst doch du, oder?" "Ja." âSo, so, so! " Luis seufzte und neckte Mitchel weiter. Ein altes Sprichwort besagt, dass die Abwesenheit das Herz erfreut. Sagt mir, habt ihr beide âŠ" Ihr GesprĂ€ch war wie ein Donnerschlag, der ĂŒber Raegans Kopf niederging. Ihr Gesicht wurde blass und ihr Körper war kalt wie Eis. Die Abwesenheit lieĂ die Zuneigung wachsen! Jedes Wort bohrte sich in ihr Herz. Mehrere flĂŒsternde Stimmen erfĂŒllten ihren Kopf zu dieser Zeit. Ihr wurde plötzlich schwindelig. Ihre Sicht wurde verschwommen. Sie hielt sich an der Wand fest und machte einen Schritt zurĂŒck. Plötzlich wurde die TĂŒr von innen geöffnet. âRaegan?" Kapitel 2 Einseitige Liebe Luis war derjenige, der die TĂŒr geöffnet hat. Es sah so aus, als wĂ€re er auf dem Weg nach drauĂen. Raegan ballte die HĂ€nde, drehte sich zu ihm um und nickte. âHe, Herr Stevens!" Ohne abzuwarten, dass er auf ihre BegrĂŒĂung reagierte, ging sie an ihm vorbei und betrat das BĂŒro mit dem Dokument. Mitchel saĂ hinter einem groĂen, luxuriösen Schreibtisch. In einem teuren Anzug und passender Krawatte sah er besonders gut aus. Raegan bemerkte, dass es nicht derselbe Anzug war, den er trug, als er gestern Abend das Haus verlieĂ. Wie hat er sich verĂ€ndert? Mit gesenktem Blick schluckte sie die Frage hinunter und sagte stattdessen: âMr. Dixon, das ist die Marketingabteilung. Bitte unterschreiben Sie es." Mitchel war ausdruckslos, als er das Dokument mit einem kurzen Blick unterschrieb. Raegan ging zur TĂŒr hinaus, sobald er ihr das Dokument zurĂŒckgegeben hatte. Luis stand noch immer auf der Schwelle. Erst als sie auĂer Sichtweite war, drehte sich Luis zu Mitchel um und sagte in gedĂ€mpftem Ton: âGlaubst du, sie hat uns gehört?" Mitchels ansprechende Augen waren in diesem Moment ausdruckslos.. Offensichtlich hat er nicht darauf geachtet, was Luis gesagt hat. Mitchel gegenĂŒber war Raegan immer sanftmĂŒtig und nie auf jemanden eifersĂŒchtig gewesen. Ihr strikter Gehorsam war alles, was Mitchel von ihr als Gegenleistung fĂŒr ihre gute Behandlung verlangte. Im Aufzug. Raegan hielt den Atem an, um ihre TrĂ€nen zurĂŒckzuhalten. Leider hat es nicht funktioniert. Sie hatte gedacht, dass zwei Jahre ausreichen wĂŒrden, damit Mitchel merkt, wie sehr sie ihn liebt und ihre Liebe erwidert. Jetzt stellte sich heraus, dass das bloĂ ein Wunschtraum war. Ihr wurde klar, dass sie gegenĂŒber Lauren, Mitchels wahrer Liebe, immer die zweite Geige spielen wĂŒrde. Reagan wischte sich die TrĂ€nen ab, als der Aufzug anhielt. Abgesehen von ihrem blassen Gesicht sah sie normal aus, als sich die TĂŒren öffneten. Sie schleppte sich in den Pausenraum, wo sie sich eine Tasse Tee machen wollte. Mehrere Mitarbeiter unterhielten sich drinnen. âLeute, habt ihr gehört? Lauren Murray ist zurĂŒck." âUnd wer ist das?" "Oh, meine GĂŒte! Du kennst sie nicht? Lauren ist die Erbin der Murray Group und Weltklasse-Designerin. Und das Wichtigste: Sie ist die einzige Freundin, mit der Mr. Dixon jemals in der Ăffentlichkeit angegeben hat. Sie ist seine erste Liebe!" âWarum ist ihre RĂŒckkehr so eine groĂe Sache? Gibt es nicht das GerĂŒcht, dass zwischen Mr. Dixon und Raegan etwas lĂ€uft?" âRaegan? Mr. Dixon hat nie zugegeben, dass er mit ihr zusammen war. Und das ĂŒberrascht mich nicht. Sehen Sie sie doch an. Sie ist nicht einmal so schön. Dennoch verhĂ€lt sie sich so, als sei sie bereits Mrs. Dixon. Was fĂŒr ein I*iot!" An der TĂŒr stehend, lĂ€chelte Raegan selbstironisch, als sie ihnen zuhörte. Es stellte sich heraus, dass alle anderen auĂer ihr die Wahrheit sahen. Die Liebe war einseitig. âHa-ha, ist Mrs. Dixon endlich aus ihrem wilden Traum erwacht?" Eine spöttische Stimme kam plötzlich von hinten. Raegan drehte sich um und sah Tessa Lloyd, Mitchels Cousine, die sie immer verachtet hatte. Tessa musste auch das Tratschen der Mitarbeiter gehört haben. Das Letzte, was Raegan jetzt tun wollte, war, sich in der Firma mit Tessa zu streiten. Sie drehte sich um, um zu gehen, aber Tessa versperrte ihr den Weg. Mit einer Tasse Kaffee in der Hand sagte Tessa sarkastisch: âLauren ist jetzt zurĂŒck. Glaubst du, Mitchel wird dir noch Aufmerksamkeit schenken?" Raegan sagte nichts dazu. Sekunden spĂ€ter setzte Tessa ihren Spott fort. âWie wĂ€re es, wenn ich Ihnen ein paar MĂ€nner vorstelle? Sie könnten Ihren Service wirklich gebrauchen." Raegan ballte die FĂ€uste und sagte kalt: âFrau Lloyd, wir sind hier in der Firma.Wenn Sie an dieser Art von GeschĂ€ft interessiert sind, wissen Sie, wohin Sie sich wenden ." "Du..." Dies verĂ€nderte Tessas Gesichtsausdruck. In der nĂ€chsten Sekunde hob Tessa ihre Hand und leerte die Tasse mit heiĂem Kaffee ĂŒber Raegan. Raegan hĂ€tte keine Sekunde geglaubt, dass Tessa so etwas VerrĂŒcktes tun wĂŒrde. Sie hielt ihre Arme hoch, um die heiĂe FlĂŒssigkeit von ihrem Gesicht fernzuhalten. Innerhalb kĂŒrzester Zeit verbrannte der Kaffee ihren Arm und ihre Haut wurde rot. "Autsch!" Raegan runzelte vor Schmerz die Stirn. âWarum hast du das getan? Bist du von Sinnen?" Es war Mittagspause und viele Mitarbeiter hatten Zeit, sich Drama anzusehen. Tessa war sogar noch selbstzufriedener, als sie immer mehr Schaulustige sah. Sie setzte einen bösen Blick auf und sagte: âWarum bist du jeden Tag so selbstgefĂ€llig, hm? ..." âDas reicht!" Aus heiterem Himmel kam ein Bariton von hinten. Mitchel hatte sein BĂŒro verlassen und stieĂ auf dieses Tohuwabohu. Im ganzen Raum herrschte Stille. âMitchel?" Beim Anblick von Mitchel lief Tessa das Blut in den Adern zusammen. Sie hatte immer Angst vor ihm gehabt. Ihre Mutter warnte sie auch davor, ihn zu provozieren. Das Sonnenlicht von drauĂen fiel auf Mitchels hĂŒbsches Gesicht. Raegan fĂŒhlte sich auf einmal so traurig und senkte den Kopf, um ihren vom Kaffee verbrĂŒhten ArmrĂŒcken zu betrachten. Niemand wagte in diesem Moment einen Laut von sich zu geben. Durch Mitchels Wut zu Tode erschreckt, zerstreute sich die Menge bald. Raegan kniff sich in die HandflĂ€che, um ihre GefĂŒhle zu unterdrĂŒcken, wĂ€hrend sie Tessa ansah. Dann ging sie an Mitchel vorbei, ohne ihn eines weiteren Blickes zu wĂŒrdigen. Mitchel, der auf Ragans dĂŒnnen RĂŒcken starrte, hatte in diesem Moment einen zweideutigen Ausdruck. Tessa knirschte mit den ZĂ€hnen und sagte bösartig: âNĂ€chstes Mal besorge ich jemanden, der dieser S**lampe eine Lektion erteilt." âTessa!" Mitchels Tonfall und Schielen lieĂen es als Tadel erscheinen. Tessa zitterte sofort. Mit ernster Miene sagte Mitchel: âIch sage es nur einmal. Lass Raegan in Ruhe." Die Aura, die er ausstrahlte, lieĂ ihre Zunge trocken werden. Alle bösartigen Ideen, die sie gegen Raegan auf Lager hatte, verschwanden im Handumdrehen. Sie stammelte: âOkay ⊠Okay, verstanden âŠ" Mitchel warf ihr einen kalten Blick zu und sprach mit Matteo. âIrrelevante Personen dĂŒrften ab heute hier nicht mehr rein." Ohne zu verstehen, was er meinte, schmeichelte Tessa Mitchel. âGuter Anruf. Dies ist ein Top-Unternehmen. Nicht jeder bekommt hier Zutritt." Matteo nickte Mitchel zu und ging dann zu Tessa. Er deutete auf den Ausgang. âFrau Lloyd, hier entlang, bitte." Erst in diesem Moment wurde Tessa klar, dass sie die unwichtige Person war, die Mitchel gerade erwĂ€hnt hatte. Sie versuchte mit ihm zu sprechen, aber Matteo versperrte ihr den Weg. Die Sicherheitsleute warfen sie daraufhin hinaus. Sie zeigten ihr keine Gnade. Ihr Kampf war zwecklos. In der Zwischenzeit hatte sich Raegan umgezogen, als sie in ihr BĂŒro zurĂŒckkehrte. Die Feierabendstunde verging schnell. Raegan nahm ihre Tasche und ging zum Ausgang. Matteo hielt sie jedoch davon ab. Er sagte: âMr. Dixon hat etwas Dringendes zu erledigen, deshalb hat er mich gebeten, Sie nach Hause zu fahren." Raegan lehnte die Mitfahrgelegenheit ohne nachzudenken ab. Vorher war sie blind, doch nun durchschaute sie die Situation. In Mitchels Augen war sie einfach ein Niemand. Wie konnte Mitchel zustimmen, sie zu ihrer GroĂmutter zu begleiten? Als Raegan im Krankenhaus ankam, sah sie, dass die Krankenschwester gerade dabei war, ihrer GroĂmutter das Abendessen zu geben. Raegan ĂŒbernahm die Aufgabe und erledigte sie alleine. Ihre GroĂmutter hatte ihr ganzes Leben lang auf dem Land gelebt und ein ruhiges Leben genossen. Alles Ă€nderte sich letzten Monat, als bei einer Routineuntersuchung festgestellt wurde, dass mit ihrer BauchspeicheldrĂŒse etwas nicht in Ordnung war. Raegan bestand darauf, sie fĂŒr eine bessere Behandlung in die Stadt zu bringen. Ihre GroĂmutter wusste nichts von ihrer Heirat mit Mitchel. Raegan hatte geplant, sie heute zu ĂŒberraschen. Doch wie sich herausstellte, war das nicht mehr nötig. Raegan wartete, bis ihre GroĂmutter eingeschlafen war, bevor sie ging. Sie verlieĂ das Krankenhaus zu FuĂ und wartete auf ein Taxi. In der Ferne fuhr ein schwarzer Luxuswagen in die Einfahrt des Krankenhauses. Raegans Augen leuchteten, als sie es sah. Sie erkannte, dass es Mitchels Auto war. Ist er gekommen, um sie abzuholen? In diesem Moment vergaĂ sie den ganzen Schmerz, den sie empfunden hatte. Waren ihre Gedanken ĂŒber ihn völlig falsch? Hat er, entgegen den GerĂŒchten, etwas fĂŒr sie ĂŒbrig? Die TĂŒr auf der Fahrerseite öffnete sich und Mitchel stieg aus. Raegan ging mit vor Freude erfĂŒlltem Herzen auf ihn zu. Plötzlich blieb sie wie angewurzelt stehen. Mitchel war gerade auf die andere Seite gegangen und hatte eine Frau aus dem Auto getragen. Sorge und MitgefĂŒhl standen ihm ins Gesicht geschrieben. Das löschte das LĂ€cheln aus Raegans Gesicht. Ihr Herz sank. Kapitel 3 Lass uns scheiden Mitchels groĂe, aufrechte Gestalt kam immer nĂ€her an Raegan heran. Und dann schritt er wortlos an Raegan vorbei. Es war schwer zu sagen, ob Mitchel Raegan sah oder sie einfach ignorierte. Trotzdem bemerkte Raegan, dass die Frau in seinen Armen dieselbe war, die gestern mit ihm fotografiert worden war. Sie war Lauren. Raegans Schuhe fĂŒhlten sich an, als wĂ€ren sie aus Blei, als sie davonlief. Sie nahm ihre Umgebung gar nicht mehr wahr. Sie stieg geistesabwesend in ein Taxi. Plötzlich rief der Fahrer: âMa'am, wohin?" Raegan war fĂŒr einen Moment fassungslos. Sie wollte nicht zu den Serenity Villas zurĂŒckkehren. Es war nur eine Frage der Zeit, bis dieser Ort nicht mehr ihr Zuhause sein wĂŒrde. Nach einer Weile antwortete sie: âBitte bringen Sie mich zur Kristallbucht". Sie hatte nach ihrer Hochzeit mit Mitchel eine Wohnung in Crystal Bay gekauft. Damals hoffte sie, ihre GroĂmutter in die Stadt zu holen, und kaufte die Wohnung mit einer Hypothek. Es war nicht besonders groĂ, aber es bot mehr als genug Platz fĂŒr zwei Personen. Mitchel verstand nicht, warum sie eine Wohnung kaufen wollte. Er bot ihr an, ihr einen gröĂeren zu geben, aber sie lehnte ab. Im Nachhinein stellte sie fest, dass der Kauf dieser Wohnung die einzige kluge Entscheidung war, die sie in den letzten zwei Jahren getroffen hatte. Als sie den Apartmentkomplex erreichte, saĂ Raegan allein im Park und versuchte, sich abzukĂŒhlen. Die Erinnerungen an die letzten zwei Jahre waren bittersĂŒĂ. Zwei Jahre waren wie ein Wimpernschlag vergangen, obwohl es mehr als siebenhundert Tage und NĂ€chte waren. Liebe könne Berge versetzen, hieĂ es. Doch ihre Liebe konnte diesen steinernen Mann nicht bewegen. Endlich wurde ihr klar, wie dumm sie gewesen war. Es war schon spĂ€t in der Nacht, als Raegan sich endlich entschloss, in ihre Wohnung zu gehen. Sobald sie aus dem Aufzug stieg, sah sie Mitchel vor der TĂŒr stehen. Er lehnte mit geradem, hĂŒbschem Gesicht an der Wand neben der TĂŒr. Raegan erstarrte fĂŒr einen Moment. Warum war er hier? Hat sie ihn nicht mit Lauren im Krankenhaus gesehen? Was hat ihn hierher gebracht? Ihre Blicke trafen sich. âWarum bist du nicht ans Telefon gegangen?" Mantel Fragte er und klang dabei ein wenig mĂŒrrisch wie jemand, der lange nicht mehr geschlafen hatte. Raegan nahm ihr Handy heraus und sah, dass sie es versehentlich auf DND gestellt hatte. Es gab fĂŒnf verpasste Anrufe von Mitchel. Dies war das erste Mal in ihrer zweijĂ€hrigen Ehe. Mitchel hat ihr Telefon gesprengt, weil er sie nicht finden konnte? Ăberraschend! Vor dem heutigen Tag hĂ€tte sie sich darĂŒber riesig gefreut. Die Leute hĂ€tten gedacht, sie hĂ€tte im Lotto gewonnen. Aber jetzt warf sie ihr Telefon einfach zurĂŒck in ihre Tasche, verschrĂ€nkte die Arme und sagte mit heiserer Stimme: âIch habe es nicht klingeln hören." Mitchel hob die Hand, um die Zeit auf der Uhr zu ĂŒberprĂŒfen, und sagte ungeduldig: âIch suche dich seit zwei Stunden". Nachdem er alles fĂŒr Lauren arrangiert hatte, kehrte er nach Hause zurĂŒck und fand ein leeres Haus vor. Er suchte ĂŒberall nach Raegan. Als er sie nicht finden konnte, bat er Matteo, die Ăberwachungsvideos aller StraĂen, die von der Firma wegfĂŒhrten, zu ĂŒberprĂŒfen. SpĂ€ter fand er heraus, dass Raegan nach Crystal Bay gefahren war, ohne es ihm zu sagen. âSag mir das nĂ€chste Mal, wann du hierher kommst, okay? Lass uns jetzt nach Hause gehen." Danach ging Mitchel in Richtung Aufzug, ohne sie eines weiteren Blickes zu wĂŒrdigen. Er wollte zu den Serenity Villas zurĂŒckkehren. Raegan bewegte sich keinen Zentimeter. Sie starrte nur auf seinen breiten RĂŒcken und grĂŒbelte unwillig. NĂ€chstes Mal... HĂ€tten sie eine Zukunft? Mitchell drehte sich um und sah nur, dass Raegan keinen einzigen Schritt gemacht hatte. Er runzelte die Stirn und fragte: âKannst du nicht laufen?" Möchtest du, dass ich dich stattdessen trage?" Das Licht im Korridor beleuchtete sein Gesicht, so dass sein Seitenprofil fast makellos war. Raegan holte tief Luft und sagte: âLass uns uns scheiden lassen." "Wie meinst du das?" Mitchels Stimme war kalt, und sein hĂŒbsches Gesicht verĂ€nderte sich sofort. âIch möchte in eine eigene Wohnung ziehen. SchlieĂlich werden wir bald Fremde sein." Raegan zwang sich zu einem LĂ€cheln, aber ihr Herz schmerzte. âWir werden Fremde sein?" Mitchel lĂ€chelte kalt. âRaegan, wie denkst du, ist unsere Beziehung im Moment?" Seine Fragen lieĂen Raegan fĂŒr einen Moment fassungslos zurĂŒck. Mitchel hatte es ihr von Anfang an klar gemacht. Diese Fassade ihrer Ehe war im gegenseitigen Einvernehmen zustande gekommen. Es gab keine Liebe. In den Augen der anderen waren sie nichts weiter als ein Vorgesetzter und ein Untergebener. Mitchel war in Ardlens ein echter Fang. Viele junge Frauen sehnten sich nach seiner Liebe und waren. Seine Frage gerade hat sie daran erinnert. Hatte er Angst, dass sie ihn nicht so leicht gehen lassen wĂŒrde? Wenn das der Fall wĂ€re, könnte er sich nicht mehr irren... Nachdem sie sich auf die Unterlippe gebissen hatte, um ihre Bitterkeit zu verbergen, sagte Raegan: âEs tut mir leid, Mr. Dixon. Ich habe zu viel darĂŒber nachgedacht. Wie dem auch sei, bitte lass mich von jetzt an in Ruhe. Du brauchst nicht nochmal hierher zu kommen." Nachdem sie das gesagt hatte, konnte Raegan nicht anders, als in TrĂ€nen auszubrechen. Wie sollte sie nicht traurig sein, wenn sie sich von dem Mann trennte, den sie ein Jahrzehnt lang geliebt hatte? Es ist so lange her. Egal wie schwierig es war, sie wusste, dass es Zeit war loszulassen. Es war höchste Zeit, dass sie aufhörte, sich wie eine Dumme zu benehmen. Seltsamerweise begann das Licht im Flur zu flackern. Der tödliche Blick, mit dem Mitchel Raegan in diesem Moment anstarrte, lieĂ die AtmosphĂ€re wie den Moment vor einem Angriff in einem Horrorfilm erscheinen. Obwohl er verstand, dass sich Frauen manchmal wie kleine Teufel benahmen, hatte er das GefĂŒhl, dass Raegan jetzt einfach zu weit gegangen war. Seine Augen leuchteten in diesem Moment wie lodernde Fackeln. Doch als er die TrĂ€nen in ihren Augen sah, erlosch die Wut in ihm augenblicklich. Er sagte mit leiser Stimme: âWenn es darum geht, was zwischen dir und Tessa passiert ist, dann..." âNein, es geht hier nicht um sie. âMr. Dixon, bitte gehen Sie jetzt." Es ist viel zwischen ihnen passiert. Und der Vorfall mit Tessa kam dem nicht einmal annĂ€hernd nahe. Raegan war erschöpft. Sie ging an Mitchel vorbei und war im Begriff, die TĂŒr zu öffnen. Dennoch war Mitchel mit ihrer Sturheit unzufrieden. Er lockerte gereizt seine Krawatte. Dann trat er einen Schritt vor und packte ihr Handgelenk fest. âHör auf damit, ja?" Eine Sekunde spĂ€ter legte er seinen Arm um ihre Schulter, lhm wurde sofort klar, dass sie wie jemand, der in Brand gesetzt wurde, glĂŒhte. âDu hast Fieber?" Raegan fĂŒhlte sich schwindlig. Das machte die ganze Situation kompliziert. Aus heiterem Himmel hob Mitchel sie hoch. Dann ging er zum Aufzug. Benommen fragte Raegan leise: âWas machst du da?" âWonach sieht es aus, was ich tue?" bemerkte Mitchel. âIch bringe Sie natĂŒrlich ins Krankenhaus." "Auf keinen Fall!" Raegan schrie vor Ăberraschung auf und schien wieder zu KrĂ€ften zu kommen. Es bestand die Gefahr, dass sie ihre Schwangerschaft verlieren könnte, wenn sie blindlings behandelt wĂŒrde. Auch wenn das Baby zur falschen Zeit kam, war es dennoch ihr Kleines. Es war ihre Pflicht, es zu schĂŒtzen. Raegan kĂ€mpfte, um sich aus Mitchels Armen zu befreien. Sein fester Griff machte ihre BemĂŒhungen jedoch zunichte. âSeien Sie nicht so stur. Du bist krank, also musst du zum Arzt", sagte Mitchel entschieden. Er ging mit ihr im Arm zum Aufzug. In diesem Moment klopfte Ragans Herz so heftig, dass es ihr aus der Brust springen konnte. âLass mich runter! Ich möchte nicht ins Krankenhaus!" ...... Wie geht es weiter? Es gibt hier nur eine begrenzte Anzahl von Kapiteln. Klicken Sie auf die SchaltflĂ€che unten, um die App zu installieren und weitere Kapitel zu lesen (Sie werden automatisch zum Buch weitergeleitet, wenn Sie die App öffnen) &16& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/19863412-fb_contact-d | Romantic Fiction | https://www.facebook.com/61564727788108/ | 44 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/19863412-fb_contact-dej57-1016-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=1258461795177066&rawadid=120215288971180198 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467569091_570564392185430_6677723876640114597_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LSCLOipYjgIQ7kNvgGNCfz7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AmtvEJfDbQ2d1QyU_vQy4E9&oh=00_AYBd6PtLpQ1FSt823cQCwzkVqwTDJYcRHJguvoFwz_Mf6A&oe=67498911 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romantic Fiction | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Whereâd Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a womanâs sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husbandâs so-called best friend. âWhat were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!â âI did it willingly for my wife,â I heard Jaredâs steady, deep voice. âYou changed, Jared. This isnât you. What has your wife done to you?â âHuh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?â âStop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!â Sofiaâs shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? âShut up! Donât drag me into your divorce!â Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didnât ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotional⊠A sob escape Sofiaâs throat. She moved into Jaredâs arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. âI have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,â I said coldly. âAnd if I donât? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?â She asked, hands akimbo. âStop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.â âYou still donât see the truth, do you?â She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, âWho do you think Jared would save first?â What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending weâd both fallen. God, sheâs so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldnât speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but thenâhe turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461689980_8316860918363503_5351120767127653745_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=30EUnXrdHZEQ7kNvgHBCLRI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1O3cmHalsxmxuoyytbCBUC&oh=00_AYBO_hFfd9tmuXQEyQOzh3Fry81IGgM0hW4IDpEfB5phmw&oe=67499E19 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "General Aurora Yates? Queen dowager has praised her as a role model for all women. Is she willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Carissa's soft smile was wiped off by a mocking one. Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking his vow... A year ago, on their wedding night, Barrett had been called away for battle. Before he left, he had lifted her veil and vowed, "Carissa, youâre the only woman I will ever love. Iâll never take a concubine!" Buying his promise, Carissa had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, so she had never regreted supporting the Warren household with her dowry in the past year. But now, in exchange for his victory, Barrett asked the king for nothing but another woman's hand in marriage, and even went far to use his so-called "glorified victory" to shut her up... Carissa felt a lump in her throat, but she swallowed it down, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" Barrettâs eyes softened for a moment, "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, General, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. "Carissa." An all-too-familiar voice suddenly called from the doorway, followed by the steady tapping of a cane, pulling Carissa out of her thoughts. To her surprise, it was Rebecca Warren, Barrett's mother. In all the time Barrett had been away, this was the first time Rebecca had visited. Surpressing her anger, Carrisa quickly rose, taking Rebecca's arm from the maid, âMother, you could have summoned me. Thereâs no need to trouble yourself.â Barrett frowned, stepping forward. âMother, I told you Iâve got thisâ" Rebecca shot her son a reproachful glance, then turned to Carrisa, bursting into an affectionate smile, "Carissa, Itâs been a tough year, especially with your familyâs tragedy. Now, youâre the only one left of the Marquis' family. But fortunately, now that Barrett is back, you finally have support again." Carissa stiffened, her suspicions confirmed. Rebecca hadnât come here out of concernâshe had come to remind her that without her family, Carissa had no one left to turn to. Her future, her very existence, now depended solely on Barrettâs mercy. With that, Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebeccaâs smile faltered for a split second before she replied, "Yes, I did. Sheâs... rough around the edges, not nearly as refined as you." Carissa smiles, her eyes sliding to Barrett, then back to Rebecca. "So, you donât like her then, Mother?" Barrett bristled at the question, but Rebecca raised a hand, stopping him, "Well, Itâs too soon to judge, isn't it? But since the king has arranged the marriage, itâs a done deal. In the future, Aurora and Barrett will earn military merits together as husband and wife, while you can manage the household and enjoy the fruits of their labor. Isnât that perfect?" "Perfect indeed!" Carissa smiled, her tone, though, soon turned chilly, "But since theyâre the husband and wife, I see no point of me staying here." Barrettâs eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Rebecca stepped in, her tone sharp, "Where does that come from? Yo'll still in charge of the household. You do know everyone has been satisfied with your work in the past year, don't you?" Carissa's lip curled into a sarcastic smile. Satisfied? They had only been satisfied because she had used her own money to keep them afloat! Let alone the fact that most of it went directly to the medical expense for Rebecca herself - she would be the last one wanting Carissa out of the role! Carissa didnât mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, since circumstances had changed, she no longer wanted to be taken as a fool. âMother,â Carissa said calmly, "I only took charge because sister Amelia was unwell. Now that sheâs recovered, she can resume her duties. Tomorrow, Iâll go over the accounts and hand everything back." Barrett clenched his fists, snapping, âFine! Donât think we canât manage without youâ" "Barret!" Rebecca quickly cut him off, her eyes narrowing. "Carissa, youâre being unreasonable. Itâs normal for men to take multiple wives. If you canât accept that, people will think youâre jealous and narrow-minded." Carissaâs compliance over the past year had made Rebecca think she was easy to manipulate. Rebecca firmly believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. But to her surprise, Carissa didn't back down at all this time, "Then let them be. I can't care less about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and started coughing harshly. "Enough, Carissa!" Barrett boomed, rushing to his motherâs side and patting her back, saying, "Mom, let's waste no more time with her! The kingâs edict is final, she has no choice but to accept it!â Recovering from the cough, Rebecca also chimed in, "Yes, Carissa. We'll leave you think about it." As Carissa watched Barret storm out with his mother, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, Old Mrs. Warren and my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âBarret and I never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464224028_2446917542165427_1252976517480997951_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7vkqnn2oP4MQ7kNvgFGK0_t&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A1cxrKYvonuM3iIFFLeSbpe&oh=00_AYBgcuMHovXMxCJ1zxTGV6-R6s7MwKDUUGFdds2yeZdLKg&oe=6749A33C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | At Grace Mansion, the lanterns in the corridors cast intricate shadows on the window frames, resembling beasts looming on the walls. Carissa Sinclair sat on a chair with her hands folded in her lap, her slender body hidden beneath plain clothes. She looked at the man before herâher husband whom she had spent a year waiting for. Barrett Warren was still wearing his slightly-worn battle armor. Standing under the dim light, he looked commanding and handsome. His face showed a mix of determination and a touch of regret. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has said that General Yates is a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife and equal to you." "Calling her that doesn't change anything. Ultimately, sheâs really just a concubine in disguise," Carissa replied, remaining indifferent. Barrett frowned. "What does it matter? Aurora and I developed feelings for each other on the battlefield. We earned this marriage through our achievements. I donât need your approval." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Developed feelings, huh? Do you remember what you said to me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett had left to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before leaving, he had lifted his wifeâs veil and promised her, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Feeling awkward, Barrett turned away. "Forget what I said. When I married you, I didnât understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! Everything Carissa had done over the past year had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting her brow. Barrett spoke of Aurora Yates with a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother. Sheâs made her very happy. Even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was seriously ill. I brought in the best physician to treat her. I managed the estateâs affairs by day and stayed up nights by her bedside. It was only because of this that her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was stating the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa pressed her lips into a thin line as she blinked away the tears in her eyes and sharpened her gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. Sheâs a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldnât want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. Sheâs straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you wonât like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Chapter 2 Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, youâll be in separate wings. She wonât compete with you for control of the household. She doesnât care about those things.â âDo you really think Iâm attached to managing this household?â Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrettâs mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligationsâall these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. âEnough, I wonât argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing,â said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. As Carissa watched him leave in a huff, she felt even more bitter. âMy lady, my lord was too much!â said Lulu, Carissaâs maid, wiping her tears away. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, why would we stay in this house any longer?â Lulu held her forehead and gasped. âBut your mother arranged this marriage, and your father wanted you to marry and have children.â Tears finally welled up in Carissaâs eyes at the mention of her parents. Her father had stayed loyal to her mother, never taking a concubine. They had six sons and one daughter. All her brothers followed her father to the battlefield. Three years ago, none returned from the Southern Frontier. Though she was a girl, Carissa came from a family of warriors and started training as a child. At the age of seven, she was sent to study under a master, where she also learned military strategy. When she returned home at fifteen, she learned her father and brothers had died a year earlier. Her mother, who had gone blind from crying too much, held Carissa close and said, "You must live like the noble girls in the kingdom. Find a good husband, marry, have children, and lead a peaceful life. Youâre the only child I have left.â Carissa felt like someone had gouged her heart out. The pain she felt was so intense she couldn't even bring herself to cry. Determined to please her mother, she spent a year mastering the traditional values and duties expected of a noblewoman. She also learned accounting and how to manage a household. Not only was Carissa the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, but she was also known for her beauty. So, suitors flooded their doorstep. Her mother had chosen Barrett because he had sworn he would never take another wife if he married Carissa. But six months ago, tragedy struck. All the residents of Northwatch Estate were murdered. No one was spared, not even the children or servants. Each victim suffered numerous knife wounds, and their bodies were brutally dismembered. Carissaâs youngest nephew had been only two and a half years old, born after the death of her third brother. The local authorities and garrison unit captured a few of the assailants. After further investigation, they were discovered to be spies from an enemy kingdom, Westhaven. The war at the front line was raging, yet these spies didn't hesitate to reveal themselves just to annihilate her family. The manner of the murder suggested it was more of a personal vengeance than anything else. When Carissa received the news, she rushed home, only to find her grandmotherâs and motherâs gruesomely dismembered bodies. Blood stained every corner of the residence, and the dead were left in agonizing states. Now, Carissa was the lone survivor of the marquis' family. The idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. They saw her merely as a delicate, fragile woman. However, Aurora was different. She had earned military merits for her contribution to the war and became the first female general in history. Even the queen dowager had high praise for her. With Aurora supporting Barrett, his future would be more secure. That was the reason the Warren family readily agreed to the marriage. Chapter 3 Lulu brought over the dowry list and explained, "This year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins to support the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." Carissa glanced at the list. "Alright." Just looking at the list put her in a melancholy mood. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she would suffer hardships in her husband's home. "My lady, where can we go? Are we returning to Northwatch Estate? Or should we go back to Meadow Ridge?" Lulu asked, looking distressed. Images of the bloodstained estate and the tragic deaths of her family members flashed through Carissaâs mind, causing a sudden pang of pain in her heart. "Anywhere is better than staying here." "If you leave, youâll be giving them exactly what they want." "So be it. If I stay, Iâll spend my whole life suffering as I watch those two be affectionate. Lulu, I must live well to give my parents and brothers peace in the afterlife," Carissa replied calmly. "My lady!" Lulu wept bitterly. She had been born and raised in Northwatch Estate. The murder had claimed the lives of everyone, including her own family. The images still haunted her, and returning there seemed unthinkable. "Is there no other way?" Lulu asked desperately. Carissaâs eyes grew cold. "There is. I could confront the king and use my familyâs achievements to force him to reverse his edict. If he refuses, Iâll take my own life in protest." Lulu was terrified and immediately protested, "My lady, you can't!" Carissaâs expression softened, and a sly smile appeared on her face. "Do you think Iâm that silly? If I manage to reach the king, Iâll only request an edict for an amicable divorce." Barrett was able to marry Aurora because of a royal edict. So, Carissa should also be issued an official edict to leave. She shouldn't have to sneak away like she was being cast out. The wealth from Northwatch Estate was more than enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She wouldn't degrade herself unnecessarily. Just then, someone called from outside, "Madam Carissa, the matriarch has requested your presence!" "Itâs Jade, Madam Rebecca's maid. It seems like Madam Rebecca wants to try and persuade you," Lulu whispered. Carissa straightened up, her expression serious. "Then, letâs go." The evening sun glowed like blood, and the autumn wind was chilly. The late king had bestowed the Warren family's current residence, Valor Estate, upon Barrett's grandfather. Though once prestigious, it had fallen into decline. Most of the Warren family's men were warriors who fought on battlefields. Only a few were civil servants who worked in the palace. Barrettâs father, Jonathan, didnât fare well in his official career. His second uncle, Gregory, only held a minor post in the Royal Citadel. Barrett and his eldest brother, Benjamin, were somewhat successful in the military. But before their recent victory, they were only fourth-ranked majors. Both families still lived together in Valor Estate. Splitting the family would only hasten their decline. Accompanied by Lulu, Carissa arrived at Rebeccaâs room. Rebecca's complexion looked a bit better, and she was sitting up in bed. She smiled warmly when she saw Carissa. "Youâre here." Benjamin and his wife, Amelia Morgan, were also in the room. Barrett's sister, Serena, and the other children of the concubines were present as well. Barrett's second aunt, Charlotte Lewis, was also seated nearby. However, her expression was cold and somewhat disdainful. "Hello, Mother. Aunt Charlotte, Benjamin, Amelia," Carissa greeted them politely. "Carissa, come here." Rebecca gestured for her daughter-in-law to sit by her bedside. The older woman held Carissa's hand affectionately and happily said, "Now that Barrett is back, you have someone to rely on. This year has been so hard on you, especially with what happened to your family. Youâre the only one left of the marquis' family. Fortunately, all of that is behind you now." Rebecca was shrewd. She made it clear that Carissa would need to depend on the Warren family in the future, since her family was gone. Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebecca hadnât expected Carissa to be so straightforward. Her smile froze for a moment before she replied, "Yes, I did. Sheâs rather rough around the edges and doesnât compare to you in terms of looks." Carissa gazed at her mother-in-law steadily. "So, are you saying you don't like her?" Chapter 4 Rebecca forced a smile. "How can I decide that after meeting her only once? But since the king has arranged the marriage, itâs a done deal. In the future, she and Barrett will earn military merits together, while you manage the household and enjoy the benefits of their hard work. Isnât that nice?" "Yes, I'm sure," Carissa replied with a smile. "But itâs quite unfair to make General Yates a concubine." Rebecca laughed. "You silly child, how could she be a concubine? The kingâs edict makes her Barrett's legal wife. Also, sheâs a military officer who holds an official rank. Officials canât be concubines. She'll be a legal wife like you. There won't be any distinction between ranks for the two of you." "No distinction? Is there such a custom in our kingdom?" Carissa asked. Rebeccaâs expression grew a bit colder. "Carissa, youâve always been sensible. Now that youâve married into our family, you should prioritize us. According to the Defense Minister, Auroraâs contributions in this battle were greater than Barrettâs. With you managing the household, they'll be able to work together as husband and wife and focus on their military service. In the future, they'll surely become famous generals like his grandfather." Carissaâs tone remained chilly as she said, "If theyâre husband and wife, then I have no role here." "How can you say that? Arenât you still in charge of the household?" countered Rebecca, displeased. "I only managed the household because Amelia was unwell. Now that she has recovered, she should resume her duties. Iâll go over the accounts tomorrow and hand everything back to her," Carissa replied. Amelia quickly interjected, "Iâm still not fully recovered. Besides, everyone is satisfied with how youâve been managing things. You should continue doing it." Carissa smiled mockingly. Everyone was satisfied because she had spent her own money to support them. Most of it went towards Rebeccaâs medical expenses. Sebastian Dalton was a renowned physician, and his medicine was costly. Only a few could afford his services. Rebeccaâs medicine cost over a hundred coins a month, amounting to more than a thousand coins a year. As for the other household expenses, Carissa occasionally subsidized them. For example, she would sometimes use fabrics and silks from her familyâs business to make new clothes for everyone throughout the year. She didnât mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, circumstances had changed. She no longer wanted to be a fool. Carissa stood up and said, "Thatâs settled, then. Iâll hand over the accounts tomorrow and wonât be involved in household matters anymore." "Stop right there!" Rebecca's face darkened with anger. "Carissa, youâre being unreasonable. Men having multiple wives and concubines is normal. If you can't accept that, people will say you're narrow-minded and jealous." Carissaâs compliance over the past year had made the Warren family think she was easy to manipulate. They believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. Carissaâs expression was calm, a stark contrast to her usual docility. "People can say whatever they want. I'm not concerned about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and coughed harshly for a long while. In the past, Carissa would have rushed to help her. She would pat the older woman's back and try to soothe her. But now, Carissa remained where she was. The soft evening light from the doorway highlighted her delicate, almost ethereal beauty. "Carissa, look how badly you've upset Mom," Serena said as she stepped forward. Her round, youthful face puffed with anger as she glared at Carissa. "This isnât even about you. Do you think your family is still as prestigious as it once was? Your parents and brothers are gone; you're the only one left. Aren't you afraid that Barrett will divorce you if you keep putting on airs like you're a young lady from a prestigious family?" Carissa looked at her sister-in-law, who was dressed in a pale yellow outfit that Carissa had procured for her in early autumn. Now, wearing the clothes Carissa had provided, Serena dared to question her authority. How utterly⊠unsensible of her. "Take off that dress youâre wearing before you try to lecture me," Carissa said coolly. Serenaâs cheeks flushed with anger. "I didnât beg you to get this dress for me. You can have it back if you donât want me to have it." "Fine. And donât forget the jewelry youâre wearing. I expect it all to be returned to me." After Carissa said that, her gaze swept across the room. The only one who seemed pleased with the situation was Charlotte. Everyone else looked grim. "If thereâs nothing else, Iâll be leaving." With that, Carissa turned and walked out decisively. Chapter 5 The Warren family members exchanged puzzled glances. None expected the usually agreeable Carissa to stand her ground so firmly this time. She even defied Rebecca, the matriarch of the family! âSheâll come around. She doesnât have any other choice,â Rebecca said coldly. That was true. With Carissa's family gone, she had no one to rely on except the Warren family. Besides, she was still Barrett's rightful wife, and it wasnât like she had been mistreated. - Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu returned to Northwatch Estate. The estate was bleak and covered in fallen leaves. After just half a year of neglect, the courtyard was overgrown with weeds that were taller than a person. Stepping back into the estate, Carissaâs heart ached fiercely. Six months ago, she had collapsed upon hearing that her family had been murdered. She had wept when she saw the lifeless bodies of her grandmother and motherâtheir corpses cold and devoid of warmth. Every corner of the estate had been stained with blood. Memorial plaques for her ancestors and mother had been placed at the estateâs family chapel. Carissa and Lulu prepared flowers to place on the plaques, their tears unceasing. Carissa knelt before her parentsâ memorials. Though her eyes were swollen from crying, they held a determined gaze. âDad, Mom, if you can hear me from heaven, please forgive your daughter for what she is about to do. Itâs not that I donât want a peaceful life with a husband and children, but Barrett is not someone I can trust with my life. Rest assured, I promise Lulu and I will live well.â Lulu knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably. After they were done, they boarded a carriage and headed straight for the palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. Lulu was distressed and said, âMy lady, the king might not see you. Maybe he thinks youâre here to oppose his edict about the marriage. You didnât eat last night or have breakfast today. Are you holding up okay? Should I go get you something to eat?â âIâm not hungry.â The only thing Carissa felt was the unwavering resolve to dissolve her marriage and return home. âPlease donât be so hard on yourself. Itâs not worth getting sick over. Why donât we just let it go? After all, youâre still the rightful wife and the lady of the Warren family. Even if General Yates is to be a legal wife, sheâll just be a glorified concubine at best. Maybe we should just endure it?â Lulu pleaded. Carissaâs gaze was cold. âLulu, if youâre going to talk like that, donât speak at all.â Lulu sighed, feeling lost and unsure of what else to do. She had hoped that once Barrett returned, Carissa would find some peace. But the situation had only worsened. - In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât see her. The edict has been issued, and I canât take it back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have made significant contributions.â âIf we speak of military achievements, the Marquis of Northwatch and General Sullivanâs contributions surpass all others,â Derek countered. Salvador remembered the Marquis of Northwatch, Hector Sinclair. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Carissa was a familiar face from those days, though she had been a delicate child. He still remembered her fair skin and endearing looks. Salvador had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers. When Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. Apart from his brother who was known as the Devil Monarch on the battlefield, the kingdom had no other capable generals. In the recent war with Westhaven, Dominic Sullivanâs third son had lost an arm. Dominic's seventh son had been murdered, though this had been kept secret. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants. I'll even give her a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â Chapter 6 Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Salvador remembered the Sinclair family. Knowing that Carissa was now the only one left stirred a feeling of pity in him. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "I have already issued the edict. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I implore you to issue another edict. I want to divorce General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "What? You want a divorce?" Salvador thought she had come to ask him to rescind the marriage edict. He never expected a plea for a divorce. Holding back tears, Carissa pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. "Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. I wish to seek an edict to divorce my husband based on my late family's military merits. Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you." "Carissa, do you know what you'll face after the divorce?" Salvador asked, a complicated expression on his face. Carissa hadn't heard Salvador call her by name in a long time. When he was still the crown prince, he used to occasionally visit Northwatch Estate. He would always find some interesting little gifts to give her when he did. After Carissa later went to Meadow Ridge to study under her master, they never saw each other again. "I do," she affirmed. There was a hint of a smile on Carissa's stunning face. But no matter how one looked at it, the smile seemed tinged with irony. "I'm sure you know the saying that a true gentleman appreciates and helps others to fulfill their aspirations, right? Even though I'm not a gentleman, I don't want to hinder General Warren and General Yates from being together," Carissa added. "Carissa, there's no one left at Northwatch Estate. Are you really going to go back there? Have you thought about your future?" Salvador asked. "I returned to the estate today to visit my family's memorial plaques. Seeing how the estate has fallen into disrepair made me want to live there again. I'll adopt a son for my father's sake, so there will still be someone to honor his memory," Carissa explained. Salvador had thought she was being impulsive; he hadn't expected her to be so considerate. "You're Barrett's legal wife. Aurora can't undermine your position. You really don't need a divorce." Carissa looked up with tear-filled eyes that were firm with resolve. "Your Majesty, that's meaningless. I don't want to waste my life like this. I'm the only one left from the Marquis of Northwatch's' family. My father and brothers lived honorably and bravely throughout their lives. I don't want to settle for a life of mediocrity." "I know you have feelings for Barrett. Are you willing to let go?" Salvador asked. Feelings? Not really. Carissa simply admired military men, and her mother had wanted her to marry and lead a stable life. That was why she had agreed to the marriage. Carissa smiled. At this moment, she looked like a strong woman who would be able to flourish even in the most challenging circumstances. "If he can let go of me, then I can let go of him," she declared. Beneath her delicate appearance, she possessed an unyielding backbone. This stunned Salvador. He had never seen such a woman before. He felt a pang of confusion, remembering the carefree little girl who used to smile all day long. Now, she was married and soon to be abandoned. To the world, divorce still meant abandonment. This was especially true in Carissaâs situation, as Barrett had publicly sought the marriage edict. Being a woman was already difficult, and she would have it even harder. How would she negotiate future marriages? There was no one left in her family to do it for her. Thinking of this, Salvador recalled Hector's merits, especially how they had saved each other on the battlefield, and his heart softened towards Carissa. "Alright, I agree. You may leave now. In a few days, the edict of divorce will be sent to the general's residence," Salvador said. Carissa breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head. "Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" As Salvador watched her, he was suddenly reminded of when she was a little girl, and his heart softened further. "Carissa, if anyone mistreats you in the future, come to the palace and see me." "Thank you, Your Majesty!" Carissa bowed once again. | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&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/t39.35426-6/459407230_535582658919485_1650655946546125361_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=g83R7b9WWH8Q7kNvgGHVecp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7-l3pYkqCcGzNWRNcatQqd&oh=00_AYCQyhuGc3MrU2Ycr9ikT5_QurVpa6O65R42357jR-Abcg&oe=67499207 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read more FREE chaptersđ | Itâs not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owenâs family. I grew up with him. We were inexplicably attracted to each other but we dared not to admit it. Until that one crazy night... anyway we got married when we were both 22. Now, itâs been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. âOwen?â I called out. âOwen, where are you?â He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: âNo, I donât think I love her anymore.â Owenâs words gave me icy chills. âHow could he say that?!â My heart was broken. Owen left without any explanation that night. When Owen came back he was very drunk. He started kissing me and called me Josie. I couldnât believe what I heard⊠âJosieâŠ? Were you with Josie?â I asked with panic in my voice. I couldnât believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. Life passed, I became more and more painful. I finally got divorced with Owen. I thought there would be no relationship between us. But the appearance of Raymond gave me fresh hope for love. Raymond was Owenâs uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, handsome and rich. He was one of the most attractive men I knew. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back 10 years ago to take over his familyâs business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldnât believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didnât know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? Heâs always there when I was in danger and even got injured when protecting me. But I can not accept him as his relationship with my ex-husband. Then the unexpected thing happened. My best friend set me up. When I woke up, I found myself under Raymond's sheet. âDonât be scared, Noah.â âIâll protect you.â âIâm willing to take responsibility.â âNoah, I love you.â His magnetic voice always lingered in my ears. Could I trust him? What will happen if I get involved in this forbidden relationship? | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&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/t39.35426-6/463774891_1483306852373701_4423970915797921592_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=R0ibMWdk5AQQ7kNvgHc48TK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1cxrKYvonuM3iIFFLeSbpe&oh=00_AYD3yGRUYrsNOc_LcXZw7znVBBrvExPjHcVDL8sxcLa48g&oe=6749B69D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Lexi could sense the man was staring at her swollen right cheek. It didn't seem like he would take his eyes off her anytime. "I know I'm so pretty that people can't help but gawk at me." Claude's lips curved up. "You look very familiar." Lexi's eyes remained on the climbing numbers on the elevator's digital display. "That's a tacky way to hit on someone." "I've never needed to hit on anyone." Claude flashed a reticent smile. "I'm only stating the truth. There was a laziness and silkiness to his voice. Lexi looked ahead at the elevator's mirrored walls and took in Claude, who stood to her left. She didn't recall ever interacting with him, much less meeting him. To her surprise, Claude suddenly approached her. His intimidating presence overwhelmed her so much that she took a few steps back. "Can I help you?" she questioned with a stiff voice. Lexi held her breath. They were so close to each other that she could smell the faint pine scent from his body. "Do you really not recognize me?" Claude asked. "I don't." Claude straightened his back and peered down at her. When the elevator door opened on the tenth floor, he stepped aside. Doubt gnawed at her heart. She could have sworn she didn't know the man, but why did he seem to know her? ⊠That night, Lexi had a dream. She dreamt of the night from two months ago. The wild night left her all sweaty. Zachary held her waist and tried out several positions with her. It left Lexi limp with barely any energy left. Not to mention, she was so drunk that she was in a daze. When Lexi woke, she massaged her forehead. The dream she had turned out to be a tad frightening. The man she slept with two months ago was Zachary. Yet, for some reason, he got replaced by the man from the elevator in her dream. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=11845&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=11845&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449727403_366939126055861_4561971539420395674_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VucauL1-N-UQ7kNvgEkr55y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1O3cmHalsxmxuoyytbCBUC&oh=00_AYDWlLQwcaEnNKM_-sfwd_ZqOqUZv6SpSINb1uETYEJt5w&oe=6749A95A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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'{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}' |
No | 2024-11-24 19:16 | active | 1919 | 0 |
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ЧОŃаŃŃ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČŃđ | ĐĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐžĐșĐž Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐ”. ĐĐŸŃŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃДЎŃĐžĐč. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸĐ± ĐžŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ ... ===== ĐлаĐČа 1 РазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа ĐĐ· ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃОлŃŃ ŃŃĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃлО ŃаĐčĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐČ ŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŽĐČŃŃ Đ»Đ”Ń. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐœĐ°ŃалŃĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”, ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŃŃпп. ĐŃ ŃĐŸĐŒĐ°Đœ заĐșŃŃŃОлŃŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ±ŃŃŃŃĐŸ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, а ĐžŃ Ń ĐаŃаŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃĐŸĐžŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃĐč ĐžĐœŃĐžĐŒĐœŃĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃаĐșŃ ĐČ ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃлД ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐșĐž. ĐаŃа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃала бŃаŃĐœŃĐč ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ, ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐČ ŃĐșŃŃŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃаĐș ĐŸŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐž, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐžŃ ŃĐŸŃĐ· ĐŒĐŸĐł бŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐŸŃĐłĐœŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. Đа, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐżĐŸĐș ĐșажДŃŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃазŃĐŒĐœŃĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐžŃала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČĐžŃĐ”Đč. ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐČŃĐčĐŽĐ”Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃж за ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đșа, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ бŃла ĐČĐ»ŃĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ»Đ”Ń. Đа ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐаŃаŃа ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлаŃŃ ĐŽĐ°Đ¶Đ” ĐœĐ” ŃазЎŃĐŒŃĐČаŃ. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃĐČаЎŃĐ±Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° бŃĐ» ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ â Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžĐ» за ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐč. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃДла, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃаĐČалŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐŒŃжД, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ Đ»Đ”Ń ĐŸ ĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐž Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đ° ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ” Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŒĐž. ĐŃлО ĐœĐ” бŃаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ” бДзŃазлОŃОД, ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐ» ОЎДалŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐŒŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃДзŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°Ń ŃĐ”ŃŃа ĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐžŃĐżŃŃала ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃĐ” ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа. Đ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОлаŃŃ ŃĐșазаŃŃ ĐŒŃĐ¶Ń ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ. ĐŃŃ Đ”Đč Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃаŃŃĐșазаŃŃ Đ”ĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČа ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлОŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ”, Đž ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ»ŃбОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ лДŃ. ĐĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń-ŃĐŸ заŃĐžŃ Đ»Đ°. ĐаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃŃДл, зазĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃДл ĐœĐ° балĐșĐŸĐœ Ń ĐŸĐŽĐœĐžĐŒ лОŃŃ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° бŃĐŽŃĐ°Ń Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČзглŃĐœŃла ĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃ â ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃДбŃĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ĐŃĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐł ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃаŃŃ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐč ŃаŃ? ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» ĐœĐ° балĐșĐŸĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐžĐœŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ Đž ŃĐœŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃĐ”. ЀОгŃŃа ĐаŃаŃа бŃла ĐČпДŃаŃĐ»ŃŃŃĐ”Đč. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃĐ” ĐșŃаŃĐŸĐČалОŃŃ ĐșŃбОĐșĐž, ĐœĐŸĐłĐž бŃлО ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃĐŒĐž, а плДŃĐž ĐșŃДпĐșĐžĐŒĐž Đž ĐŒŃŃĐșŃлОŃŃŃĐŒĐž. ĐŃĐŸŃĐČаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽ бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ŃĐœĐœŃĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ° ĐșажЎŃĐč Ńаз, а Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃĐžĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐČ Đ±Đ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐżĐ”. ĐаŃаŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ°Ń ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ° блŃжЎаŃŃĐžĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Ń ĐșŃĐŸĐČаŃĐž ŃŃбаŃĐșŃ Đž бŃŃĐșĐž ĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ°. ĐĐœ ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃŃ Đž ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒĐž палŃŃĐ°ĐŒĐž заĐČŃзал галŃŃŃĐș. ĐĐłĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸĐ” лОŃĐŸ Ń ŃŃŃĐșĐžĐŒĐž ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐŒĐž ĐżŃОЎаĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ аŃŃĐ” ĐČлаŃŃĐœĐŸŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐčŃĐ°Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃа бŃĐ»ĐŸ ОЎŃĐž. «ĐĐ” жЎО ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐĄĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃО», â ŃĐșазал ĐŸĐœ. ЧŃĐŸ? ĐŃЎа ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃалŃŃ ĐČ ŃаĐșĐŸĐč ŃаŃ? Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ŃĐ”ŃŃ ĐœĐ° бДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃаŃĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ глŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒŃжа. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° пДŃалŃ. ĐĐŸŃазЎŃĐŒĐ°ĐČ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «ĐĐŸ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃжД ŃаĐș ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ...» ĐалŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃлО ĐœĐ° галŃŃŃĐșĐ”. ĐĄĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃбĐșĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœ Đž ŃŃĐžĐżĐœŃĐ» ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ° ĐŒĐŸŃĐșŃ ŃŃ Đ°: «ĐДЎО ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ? ĐŁ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČОлОŃŃ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°. ĐĐ” жЎО». ĐĄ ŃŃĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлŃŃ Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž. «ĐаŃаŃ?» ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đž ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń. «РŃŃĐŒ ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐœ бŃĐ» Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐДЎŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ паŃĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸĐșа ĐŸĐœĐž ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДлО ĐŽŃŃĐł ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃга. РаŃŃŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла: «Я Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ Đ·Đ°ĐČŃŃа. ĐąŃ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń Đ°ŃŃ ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč?» Đ„ŃŃĐżĐșĐ°Ń Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐ°Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла ŃаЎа ĐżŃĐžĐ”Đ·ĐŽŃ ĐČĐœŃŃĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃДла ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Ń ĐаŃаŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ŃŃаŃŃлОĐČŃ ĐČ Đ±ŃаĐșĐ”. «ĐаĐČаĐč ŃĐ”ŃĐžĐŒ заĐČŃŃа, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ?» йаĐș Đž ĐœĐ” ЎаĐČ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃпДŃĐœĐŸ ŃŃŃĐ». Đ Đ°Đ·ĐœŃĐ” ĐŒŃŃлО ĐșŃŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐœŃла ĐŽŃŃ Đž ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃДлŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° заŃĐœŃŃŃ. Đа Đ”Ń ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐČĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐč Оз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐžĐœŃĐ”ŃĐœĐ”Ń-Đ±Đ»ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČ. Đ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ: «ĐĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃĐ°Ń ĐŽĐžĐ·Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”Ń ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ЀаЎДДĐČа бŃла Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ Đ°ŃŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃŃŃ Ń Đ·Đ°ĐłĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ паŃĐœĐ”ĐŒÂ». Đа ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ” бŃла ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŒŃŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐ»Ńпа. ЀОгŃŃа ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±Ńла ŃаŃплŃĐČŃаŃĐŸĐč, ĐœĐŸ ЎажД ĐżĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐŒ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń . Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČДлОŃОла ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐżŃŃĐșĐž. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłŃаŃОО ĐŸĐșазалŃŃ ĐаŃаŃ! ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ» ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐČĐœŃŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаЎО ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ŃаŃŃ ĐžĐ· аŃŃĐŸĐżĐŸŃŃа ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐČŃŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ? РазĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČаĐČŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐČĐŸŃĐ”. ĐŃ ŃŃĐșĐž заЎŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž. ĐĄĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ±Ńала ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐČŃĐș ĐłŃĐŽĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżŃĐžĐČŃĐ» Đ”Ń ĐČ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ŃŃŃбĐșŃ, Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃ ŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃŃĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ: «ĐĐ»Đ»ĐŸ!» ĐŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœŃĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐŸŃбŃĐŸŃОла ŃДлДŃĐŸĐœ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐ·ŃĐČ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸŃŃ. Đ Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐ»Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŃŃпОла жДлŃŃ. ĐŃĐžĐșŃŃĐČ ŃĐŸŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐČŃŃĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐœĐžŃаз. Đа ŃлДЎŃŃŃДД ŃŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃĐżŃŃĐŒĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃаОĐČала ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ŃабаŃŃĐČаŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ±ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃгО. ĐŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃŃал ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃажаŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃОл Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžŃĐ”Đč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃĐ”Đč. ĐлаĐČĐœĐŸĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃĐœĐžĐșŃ, ĐаŃĐČĐ”Ń ĐĐœĐžŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœŃĐŒĐž ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐœ бŃĐ» Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐČŃĐžĐŒ ĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ” ĐаŃаŃа Đž Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. Đ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Оз ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐČŃŃŃОл Đ”Đč ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ĐżŃĐžĐșазал ĐŸŃĐœĐ”ŃŃĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ ĐаŃаŃа. ĐŃĐŸŃĐ»ŃĐŒ ĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ŃĐŸĐŒ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃаĐș Đž ĐœĐ” ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ”, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČŃĐ» ĐœĐŸŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč? ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ŃŃаŃалаŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœŃŃŃ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčŃŃĐČОД. ĐĐœĐ° ŃаŃŃŃЎОла â ŃŃĐŸ Đ±Ń ĐœĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° заŃĐ»ŃжОла бŃаĐș Ń ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ жажЎала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐžĐ” ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ. ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž бŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаŃĐœŃĐŒĐž, ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ ŃаĐș? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ Đ»ĐžŃŃа Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”ŃалŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐžŃĐ”ĐșŃĐŸŃа. ĐŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐčŃĐž Оз лОŃŃа, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃОглаЎОла ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃбДЎОŃŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ ĐČŃглŃĐŽĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžŃла ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ Đž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ Đ±Ńла ĐżŃĐžĐŸŃĐșŃŃŃа. РазЎалŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлаŃŃ. Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃ ŃДбД, ĐŒŃжОĐș! ĐŁ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐ” Đ”ŃŃŃ ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа Đș Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ”?» ĐĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżŃĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» ĐаĐČĐžĐŽŃ ĐąĐžŃĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŽŃŃĐłŃ ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃĐČа ĐаŃаŃа. «ЧŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃ ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ?» â Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐŒ ŃĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐаŃаŃ. Â«ĐąŃ ŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń ĐČ ĐČОЎŃ! â ĐаĐČОЎ ĐœĐ”ŃĐ”ŃпДлОĐČĐŸ ŃŃĐ»ĐșĐœŃĐ» ŃĐ·ŃĐșĐŸĐŒ. â ĐĐœĐ” ĐșажДŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа. РазĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐŒ ĐČĐșŃŃĐ”?» Â«ĐąŃ Ń ĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Ń ĐżĐ”ŃДЎал Đ”Ń ŃДбД?» â ĐœĐ”Đ±ŃĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОл ĐаŃаŃ. «ĐĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, забŃĐŽŃ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃĐŸĐŒ!» ĐŃДзŃĐžŃДлŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐаĐČОЎа ĐżŃĐŸĐ·ĐČŃŃал ĐČ ŃŃĐ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃДзĐșĐŸ. Đ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОлО, ĐșаĐș ĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐŽĐŒĐ”ŃĐ”. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃла Đž ĐșŃДпŃĐ” Ńжала ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐаĐČОЎа ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ŃĐœĐŸĐČа. «ĐŃŃаŃĐž, ŃŃŃĐŸĐŒ Ń ĐČОЎДл ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐŒ паŃĐœĐ” ĐĐ”ĐœŃ. ĐŃĐŸ ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃŃ, Ўа?» «Đа». «йаĐș-ŃаĐș-ŃаĐș! ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐžŃ, ŃŃа Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸ ŃĐžŃ ĐżĐŸŃ ĐŽĐ”ŃĐ¶ĐžŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ. Đ ŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃаЎ ĐŽĐŸŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃĐČОД!» ĐаĐČОЎ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ ĐœŃĐ» Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ» ĐŽŃĐ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа. «ĐŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”. ĐаĐș ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃŃ, ŃазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа. ĐĄĐșажО, ĐČŃ...» ĐŃ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Đœ ĐłŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ĐłŃŃĐœŃĐČŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. ĐŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, а ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐœĐŸŃŃĐž ĐŸĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đ»Đž. ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Đž ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃŃ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”! РазлŃĐșа ŃĐșŃДплŃĐ”Ń ŃŃĐČŃŃĐČа! ĐĐ°Đ¶ĐŽĐŸĐ” Оз ŃŃĐžŃ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ĐČĐŸĐœĐ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐ¶ ĐČ Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”. ĐŃĐž ŃŃĐ°Đ·Ń ŃŃ ĐŸĐŒ ĐŸŃЎаĐČалОŃŃ ĐČ Đ”Ń ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ”. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸĐșŃŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, а Đ”Ń Đ·ŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŒŃŃŃĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлаŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đž ŃЎДлала Ńаг ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ. ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŃŃĐž. Â«Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ°?» ĐлаĐČа 2 ĐĐ”ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ ĐĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃĐ» ĐаĐČОЎ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалŃŃ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃĐșĐž, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đș ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ Đž ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃла. «ĐĐŸĐ±ŃĐŸĐ” ŃŃŃĐŸ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ йОŃĐŸĐČ!» ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”Ńа ĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐČĐ”ŃŃŃĐČОД, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżŃĐŸŃла ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ĐаĐČОЎа Đž ĐČĐŸŃла ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń Ń ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃОЎДл за Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐžĐŒ ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒ ŃŃĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ. Đ ĐŽĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒĐ” Đž ŃŃŃĐœĐŸĐŒ галŃŃŃĐșĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐČŃглŃЎДл ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐșŃаŃĐžĐČĐŸ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОла, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸŃ ĐșĐŸŃŃŃĐŒ, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃŃ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ» Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. ĐĐŽĐ” Đž ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ŃŃпДл пДŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ? ĐĐżŃŃŃĐžĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃОла ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ Đž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐșазала: «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ, ŃŃĐŸ Оз ĐŸŃЎДла ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșĐ”ŃĐžĐœĐłĐ°. ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃĐžŃД». ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńал, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżĐžŃаĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” глŃĐŽŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла за ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃŃ, ĐșаĐș ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ» Đ”Đč бŃĐŒĐ°ĐłŃ. ĐаĐČОЎ ĐČŃŃ Đ”ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐ”. Đ ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ ĐžĐ· ĐČОЎŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ Đș ĐаŃаŃŃ Đž ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ»: «ĐĐ”ŃŃĐŒĐŸ! ĐŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃĐ»ŃŃала?» ĐзглŃĐŽ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃаĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃŃĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃал ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐŽŃŃга. ĐĐ»Ń ĐаŃаŃа Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐżŃĐžĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐŸĐč. ĐŃ ŃŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” â ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐČал ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”Ń ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸŃĐŸŃДД ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. РлОŃŃĐ”. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° заĐșŃŃОла ĐłŃĐ±Ń Đž ĐżŃŃалаŃŃ ŃĐŽĐ”ŃжаŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃĐ·Ń, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŽĐČŃŃ Đ»Đ”Ń Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», ĐșаĐș ŃОлŃĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐ±ĐžŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОл Đ”Đč ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ»ĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ”ŃбŃŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸĐč. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐœŃла, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃДгЎа бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐžĐłŃаŃŃ ĐČŃĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœŃŃ ŃĐŸĐ»Ń ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐŒŃжа, ĐČ ĐŸŃлОŃОД ĐŸŃ ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ, Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃĐ”Ńла ŃлДзŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° лОŃŃ ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŽĐŸĐș, Ń ĐŸŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ»ĐžŃĐŸ ĐŸŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃĐŒ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃаŃОлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ°, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń Đ·Đ°ĐČаŃĐžŃŃ ŃДбД ŃаŃĐ”ŃĐșŃ ŃаŃ. ĐĐœŃŃŃĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃалО ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ. «РДбŃŃа, ĐČŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃалО? ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ЀаЎДДĐČа ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ». «РĐșŃĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ?» «ĐĐŸĐ¶Đ”! ĐąŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃŃ? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃа ЀаЎДДĐČ ĐŃŃпп Đž ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń ĐŒĐžŃĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃŃĐŸĐČĐœŃ. Đ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐ” глаĐČĐœĐŸĐ” â ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐŒĐŸĐœŃŃŃĐžŃĐŸĐČал ĐżŃблОŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДŃĐČĐ°Ń Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ!» «ĐĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ Đ”Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃаŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃаĐș ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ? РазĐČĐ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃаДŃŃŃ Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐŸĐč?» Â«Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ°? ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃĐșа Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșа. ĐĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐČĐ”ŃжЎал, ŃŃĐŸ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃаДŃŃŃ Ń ĐœĐ”Đč. ĐĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ Đž ĐœĐ”ŃĐŽĐžĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń â ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐșŃаŃĐŸŃĐșа, ĐœĐŸ ĐČДЎŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃаĐș, бŃĐŽŃĐŸ ŃжД ŃŃала Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐаĐș глŃĐżĐŸ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐžĐČĐœĐŸ!» ĐĄŃĐŸŃ Ń ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃŃĐžĐČаŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČĐŸ ŃĐ»ŃбалаŃŃ. ĐĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸĐœŃлО ĐČŃĐ”, ĐșŃĐŸĐŒĐ” ĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐŃ Đ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐČŃ Đ±Ńла ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ·Đ°ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸĐč. «Єа-Ń Đ°, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČа ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐČŃŃ ĐżŃаĐČĐŽŃ?» ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃлОĐČŃĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±Đ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ Đž ŃĐČОЎДла ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČŃ, ĐŽĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐČŃДгЎа ĐżŃДзОŃала Đ”Ń. ĐĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ бŃŃŃ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ»ŃŃала ŃплДŃĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. ĐĐ”ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” Ń ĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ŃŃгаŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃĐŽŃŃ . ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃĐčŃĐž, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃДгŃаЎОла Đ”Đč ĐżŃŃŃ. ĐĄ ŃаŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐČ ŃŃĐșĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃаŃĐșаŃŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž заŃĐČОла: «ĐĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ĐаŃаŃŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ ŃаĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃДбŃ?» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńала. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃĐșĐž. «Я ŃĐ»ŃŃал, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐŸ ŃĐżŃаĐČĐ»ŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐœĐŸŃĐ°ĐŒ. ĐаĐș ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐ”Ń ŃĐŸĐłĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒĐžŃŃ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐŸĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœ? ĐąŃ ĐžĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ±ĐžŃŃŃŃ.» ХжаĐČ ĐșŃлаĐșĐž, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа, ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐ”, а ĐœĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸŃЎДлД. ĐŻ ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ° â ĐČŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃĐ”, ĐșаĐș ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐ±ŃаŃŃŃŃ». «йŃ...» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐœĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”ĐșĐœŃла ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐŒĐŸŃалŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒŃŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ, Đž Ńа бŃŃŃŃĐŸ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃ ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃĐ”. Đ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃла ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ĐČŃлОла ŃаŃĐșŃ ĐłĐŸŃŃŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐžŃŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșажДŃŃŃ ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ бДзŃĐŒĐœĐŸĐč. ĐĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла лОŃĐŸ ŃŃĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž, заŃĐžŃаŃŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐșОпŃŃĐșа. Đ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșа ĐșĐŸŃĐ” ĐČŃлОлŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ”Ń ŃŃĐșŃ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșĐž ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” ĐżĐŸĐșŃаŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. «ĐĐč! â Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлаŃŃ ĐŸŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž. â ĐąŃ ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃĐŒĐ° ŃĐŸŃла?» Đа ĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ пДŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ” ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐžĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃЎалО за ĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ»ĐŸŃаЎŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżĐ° Đ·ŃĐžŃДлДĐč ĐœĐ°Ńала ŃĐČДлОŃĐžĐČаŃŃŃŃ. ĐĄĐșŃĐ”ŃŃĐžĐČ ŃŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ° ĐłŃŃĐŽĐž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃĐŸŃОла Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ: Â«Đ ĐŸŃĐșŃЎа ŃаĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃŃ? ĐąŃ ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐșŃŃжаŃŃОД ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃĐ·ĐșĐ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐŸŃа? ĐąŃ ĐŸŃОбĐșа...» ĐĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ Ń Đ»ĐŸĐżĐŸĐș. ĐĐŸŃŃŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃŃ Đ¶Đ” заŃŃаĐČОла ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃаŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐŸĐșĐ” ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń ĐœŃла глаза. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ŃĐžŃ Đ°Ń Đž ĐżĐŸĐșлаЎОŃŃĐ°Ń Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° Ўала Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœŃ? ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃОжала ŃŃĐșŃ Đș ŃĐ”ĐșĐ”, ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńа ĐŸŃ ŃĐŸĐșа. ĐĄĐżŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: «йŃ... ĐąŃ ŃЎаŃОла ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐșаĐș ŃŃ ŃĐŒĐ”Đ”ŃŃ!» Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”Ń ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đž ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃОла: «Đа, Ń ŃЎаŃОла ŃДбŃ! ĐажДŃŃŃ, ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐœĐ” ŃŃОлО ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃаŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸŃŃĐž!» ĐĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ŃŃла ŃĐŸĐŽĐžŃДлДĐč Đ”ŃŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃĐČĐ”. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐșŃĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐł ĐČŃŃĐŒĐ”ĐžĐČаŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° глŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃОлаŃŃ. ĐŃĐŽŃŃĐž ŃĐ”ŃŃŃĐŸĐč ĐаŃаŃа КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČа, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐžĐČŃĐșла Đș ŃĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž лДŃŃĐž ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐč аЎŃĐ”Ń. ĐĄĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ Ń ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃла ĐČпДŃĐČŃĐ” ĐČ Đ”Ń Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа бŃĐŸŃОлаŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐșаĐș ŃазŃŃŃŃĐœĐœŃĐč бŃĐș, ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸŃĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč. Đа ŃŃĐŸŃ Ńаз Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČа Đș ŃĐŸĐŒŃ, ŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸĐčĐŽŃŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ŃаĐș ĐșŃДпĐșĐŸ ŃŃ ĐČаŃОла запŃŃŃŃĐ” ŃĐŸĐżĐ”ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ Ńа ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ” Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đč бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐżŃĐ”ĐžĐŒŃŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃŃĐž ĐČŃŃŃгалаŃŃ: «ĐĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Đč ŃŃĐŸĐłĐ°ŃŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃŃĐ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž ŃŃŃĐŸĐœĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž! ĐąŃ ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°?! ĐąŃ ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșа ĐаŃаŃа! » РДзĐșОД ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐżŃĐžĐČлДĐșлО ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐŽŃŃ Đ° Đ”ŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŃĐ” Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đč. «ĐĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ!» ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»ŃŃалŃŃ ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐč ĐŒŃжŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž. ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃОл ŃŃĐŒĐ°ŃĐŸŃ Ń, ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐžĐ· ŃĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃĐžŃа. Đ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°ŃĐ” ĐČĐŸŃаŃОлаŃŃ ĐłŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Ń ŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ°. «ĐаŃаŃ?» ĐŃĐŸĐČŃ ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ŃŃŃла. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐČŃДгЎа Đ±ĐŸŃлаŃŃ Đ±ŃаŃа. ĐĐ°ĐŒĐ° ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Ńаз ĐżŃДЎŃĐżŃДжЎала Đ”Ń ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃĐŸĐČаŃŃ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐœŃла ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐžŃĐžŃ Đ¶Đ”ŃŃĐČŃ â ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ ĐČаŃОлаŃŃ Đ·Đ° ŃŃĐșŃ Đž ĐłŃĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ заŃŃЎала. «ĐаŃаŃ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ! ĐĐœĐ° ŃЎаŃОла ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ!» ĐĄĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ŃĐœŃĐč ŃĐČĐ”Ń ŃĐœĐ°ŃŃжО паЎал ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃŃĐœĐŸĐ” лОŃĐŸ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœŃ. ĐŁŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃŃŃОла ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČŃ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДла ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșŃ, ĐŸŃпаŃĐ”ĐœĐœŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐ”. ĐŃ ĐČзглŃĐŽŃ ĐČŃŃŃĐ”ŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃŃ Đ”. ĐĐ»ŃĐ±ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœĐ°Ń ĐŒŃŃĐžĐČŃĐžŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đž заЎал ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃ: Â«ĐąŃ Đ·Đ°Đ±Ńла ĐżŃаĐČОла ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž?» ĐĐ·-за Đ”ĐłĐŸ лДЎŃĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČзглŃЎа ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ заЎДŃжала ĐŽŃŃ Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃĐ°ĐŒ. Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐžĐșŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČалŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐž Đ·ĐČŃĐșа. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ńала, ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸ. ĐĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃŃŃаОĐČалаŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃŃ, ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃŃĐœĐŸ Ўал ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐŸ КДŃŃаĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŃŃпп â ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ, гЎД ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ бДзЎДлŃĐœĐžŃаŃŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŽĐŸĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐŸŃОбĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐžŃĐžŃ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃаŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃДла ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°ŃŃ, ŃĐ»ŃŃал лО ĐаŃĐ°Ń ŃДзĐșОД ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČа ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ ĐžĐ»Đž ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐČĐŸŃŃĐ»ŃŃ. ĐĐ”ĐčŃŃĐČĐžŃДлŃĐœĐŸ лО ĐŸĐœ ĐČОЎДл ĐČ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŽĐœŃŃ ĐžĐłŃŃŃĐșŃ? ĐĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃĐŸŃŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа, ŃĐŸĐ»ĐżĐ° ĐČŃĐșĐŸŃĐ” ŃĐ°Đ·ĐŸŃлаŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐŽĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŸŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃĐČаŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đ”Đșа, ĐœĐ” Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ŃĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐżŃДЎŃŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Đ„ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ ĐаŃаŃа заŃŃаĐČОл Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃĐŸĐ¶Đ°ŃŃ. ĐĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа Ńжала Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐŸĐœĐž, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČĐžŃŃ ŃĐŒĐŸŃОО. «ĐĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœŃ Đ¶Đ°Đ»Ń, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸŃŃŃпОла ĐœĐ”ĐżŃаĐČОлŃĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃЎаŃОла ĐČаŃ». ĐĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐŸ заЎŃала ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. «ĐŃ! ĐĐ” ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đč, ŃŃĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐżŃŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐșŃŃŃĐșа за ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž лОŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐŻ ĐœĐ”...» «РŃаĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃŃаД, бДŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ОзĐČĐžĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±ŃаŃĐœĐŸ. Đ ŃДпДŃŃ, Đ”ŃлО ĐČŃ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐžĐ·ĐČĐžĐœĐžŃĐ”, â Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸŃла ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ ĐаŃаŃа, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŽĐŸŃŃĐŸĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ĐČзглŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐžŃĐŸ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœŃ Đ»ĐžŃĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČŃŃĐșĐžŃ ĐșŃаŃĐŸĐș. ĐĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”ŃгалаŃŃ ŃаĐșĐŸĐŒŃ ŃĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃДгЎа бŃла Ń ŃĐ»ĐžĐłĐ°ĐœĐŸĐŒ, а ĐœĐ” жДŃŃĐČĐŸĐč! ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° бŃла ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐČа ŃаŃĐșŃĐŸĐŒŃаŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃŃĐșĐž! ĐŁĐșазаĐČ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń ĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”ĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐșŃĐžĐșĐœŃла: «ĐаŃаŃ, ŃŃ ŃĐ»ŃŃал? ĐĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃŃŃĐžĐœŃ Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ”Ń ŃĐ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČаŃĐžĐČаŃŃ ĐČ ŃаĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸĐœĐ”! ĐĐŸŃŃаĐČŃ Đ”Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃĐŸ. ĐĐœĐ°ŃĐ” Ń ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ Đ”Ń ŃаĐș, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐžŃŃ ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃаЎД!» ĐŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОŃа ĐаŃаŃа, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč ŃĐŒĐŸŃŃДл ĐČ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃĐžŃĐ°Đ”ĐŒŃĐŒ. «ĐĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ!»â â Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃĐ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐČ ŃŃĐșŃ. ĐаĐș ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐč жОл Đž ĐŽŃŃал ĐŽŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč Đž жДŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŃ, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃДЎĐČĐșŃŃала, ŃŃĐŸ ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°ĐłĐ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. ĐĐœĐ° бŃла ŃĐČĐ”ŃĐ”ĐœĐ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐž ĐČĐŸ ŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃаĐČĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ŃŃĐžŃĐœŃла Đ·ŃĐ±Ń Đž Đ·Đ»ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸ заŃĐČОла: «РŃлДЎŃŃŃĐžĐč Ńаз Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃĐŽŃ ĐżŃĐ”ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐœĐ” ŃŃĐŸĐș.» «ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ°!»â ĐąĐŸĐœ Đž ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃ ĐаŃаŃа ĐŽĐŸ жŃŃĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃгалО ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽŃĐŸĐłĐœŃла. ĐĄ ĐŒŃаŃĐœŃĐŒ ĐČŃŃĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ лОŃа ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐŸĐ±ŃŃŃĐœĐžĐ»: «Я ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ ŃŃĐŸ ĐČ ĐżĐ”ŃĐČŃĐč Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐč Ńаз. ĐабŃĐŽŃ ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐżŃĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸ. ĐŃŃаĐČŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Â». ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃĐČŃŃĐČĐŸĐČала ĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃлД. ĐŃĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐŸŃĐœŃĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃŃĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° ĐżŃĐŸŃĐžĐČ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ŃазŃŃŃОлОŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃала: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ... Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃĐœĐŸ...»â ĐаŃĐ°Ń Đ±ŃĐŸŃОл ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń Ń ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐč ĐČзглŃĐŽ Đž Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃОл Ń ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đ”ĐŒ. «Х ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ ŃŃЎа ĐœĐ” ĐČĐżŃŃĐșаŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃŃĐŸŃĐŸĐœĐœĐžŃ Đ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đč». ĐĐ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐžĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃла, ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŃŃОла ĐаŃаŃŃ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Ń. ĐŃĐŸ ŃĐŸĐż-ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐșажЎŃĐč ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃĐż ŃŃЎа». ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃĐ» ĐаŃаŃŃ, а заŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ” Đž ŃĐșазал ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽ. «ĐĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° ĐĐ”ŃаŃĐžĐŒĐŸĐČа, ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃĐčŃŃа, ŃŃЎа». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐĐ»ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ŃŃĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž Đ”ŃŃŃ ŃĐŸŃ ĐœĐ”ĐœŃĐ¶ĐœŃĐč ŃĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐČ ĐČĐžĐŽŃ ĐаŃаŃ. ĐĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃалаŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃĐžŃŃ Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč ĐżŃДгŃаЎОл Đ”Đč ĐżŃŃŃ. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ ŃĐ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐž ĐČŃĐČДлО Đ”Ń. ĐĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐżŃĐŸŃĐČОлО Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐž ĐșаплО ĐżĐŸŃаЎŃ, Đž Đ”Ń ĐżĐŸĐżŃŃĐșĐž ĐČŃŃĐČаŃŃŃŃ ĐŸĐșазалОŃŃ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐœŃĐŒĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”ŃĐœŃлаŃŃ ĐČ ĐŸŃĐžŃ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżĐ”ŃĐ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŃ. ĐŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐżĐ”ŃалŃŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐČзглŃĐŽĐ” ĐаŃаŃа. Đ Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃĐžĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș ĐșĐŸĐœŃŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃŃĐŒĐșŃ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČОлаŃŃ Đș ĐČŃŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐČĐŽŃŃĐł Đ”Ń ĐŸŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČОл ĐаŃĐČĐ”Đč. ĐĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐŽŃĐŒĐ°Ń, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸŃĐșазалаŃŃ ĐŸŃ ĐżĐŸĐ”Đ·ĐŽĐșĐž. Đ Đ°ĐœŃŃĐ” ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ŃлДпа, ĐœĐŸ ŃДпДŃŃ ĐČОЎДла ŃĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃ ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·Ń. Đ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń ĐаŃаŃа ĐŸĐœĐ° бŃла ĐżŃĐŸŃŃĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃОлŃŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ, Đ”ŃлО Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° бŃла Đ”ĐŒŃ Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃазлОŃĐœĐ°? ĐŃОбŃĐČ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ, Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ŃĐČОЎДла ĐŒĐ”ĐŽŃĐ”ŃŃŃŃ, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃĐ°Ń ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃалаŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃĐŒĐžŃŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșŃ ŃĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ, Đž ĐČĐ·Ńла ŃŃŃ Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐ°ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃДбŃ. ĐŃŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ Đ”Ń Đ±Đ°Đ±ŃŃĐșа жОла ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ŃĐ”ĐČĐœĐ” ŃĐžŃ ĐŸ Đž ĐŒĐžŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŃŃ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃĐŸŃĐ»ĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃĐ”, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸ, ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐœĐ”Ń Đ±ŃлО ĐżŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ¶Đ”Đ»ŃĐŽĐŸŃĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐč. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃŃĐŸŃла ĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŒ, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ĐżŃĐžĐČДзŃĐž бабŃŃĐșŃ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐșаŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ лДŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐабŃŃĐșа ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸ бŃаĐșĐ” ĐČĐœŃŃĐșĐž. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃĐŸĐČала ŃŃŃŃĐŸĐžŃŃ Đ”Đč ŃŃŃĐżŃОз. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ, ĐČ ŃŃĐŸĐŒ ŃжД ĐœĐ” бŃĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃĐž. ĐĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșа ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸĐșа бабŃŃĐșа ŃŃĐœŃŃ, ĐżŃДжЎД ŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐčŃĐž. ĐĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃла Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ Đž ĐČŃĐ·ĐČала ŃаĐșŃĐž. ĐЎалДĐșĐ”, ĐșĐŸ ĐČŃ ĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃĐœĐžŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» ŃĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃĐœŃĐč ŃŃŃĐœŃĐč аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»Ń. Đлаза Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸŃДлОŃŃ â ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐ°ŃĐžĐœŃ ĐаŃаŃа. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃĐžĐ”Ń Đ°Đ» за ĐœĐ”Đč? Đ ŃŃĐŸŃ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±Ńла ĐČŃŃ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń, ĐșĐŸŃĐŸŃŃŃ ĐžŃĐżŃŃŃĐČала ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ паŃŃ ŃаŃĐŸĐČ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ. ĐĐČĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸŃĐșŃŃлаŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° ŃлОŃŃ ĐČŃŃДл ĐаŃаŃ. Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃпДŃОла Đș ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃ Ń ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃŃŃĐžĐŒŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ”ĐŒ. ĐĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČ ŃлДЎŃŃŃŃŃ ŃĐ”ĐșŃĐœĐŽŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ńла, ĐœĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐ”ĐČДлОŃŃŃŃ. ĐаŃĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃŃĐ» Đș Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”Đč ĐŽĐČĐ”ŃĐž Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» ĐœĐ° ŃŃĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČŃŃĐșŃ. Đа Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОŃĐ” ĐŸŃŃажалОŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐČĐŸĐłĐ° Đž ŃĐŸŃŃŃĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐŁĐ»ŃбĐșа ĐžŃŃДзла Ń Đ»ĐžŃа Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ”Ń ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ ĐșŃĐŸĐČŃŃ. ĐĐ”ŃжДлО Đ”Ń ĐŽĐŸĐłĐ°ĐŽĐșĐž бŃлО ĐŸŃĐžĐ±ĐŸŃĐœŃĐŒĐž? ĐĐ°Đ±ĐŸŃОлŃŃ Đ»Đž ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐаŃаŃ, ĐČĐŸĐżŃĐ”ĐșĐž ŃĐ»ŃŃ Đ°ĐŒ? ... ==== Đ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ Đ±ŃĐ» ŃĐŸĐ»ŃĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐ°, Đž ŃŃĐŸ бŃĐ» ĐаŃаŃ. Đа ĐČŃĐŸŃĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐŽ бŃаĐșа Ń ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° забДŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. Đ Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐłĐžĐœŃ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃпДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±ŃĐžŃŃ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃŃ ĐŒŃжŃ, ĐșаĐș ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŽĐŸĐșŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃазĐČĐŸĐŽ, ĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐŒŃ ŃŃĐŸ Ń ĐŸŃДл Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŃŃŃ ĐœĐ° ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДŃĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃбĐČĐž. ĐĐŸŃлД ŃŃĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ŃОла ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐžŃŃ ŃĐČĐŸŃ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃ. ĐĄĐżŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ Đ”Ń ĐžĐŒŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃŃĐŽŃ. ĐаŃаŃŃ ŃŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐșŃаĐčĐœĐ” ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ ŃДбД. ĐĐŸ ĐșаĐșĐŸĐč-ŃĐŸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐžĐœĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ°Ńал ŃĐșŃŃаŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. ĐĐłĐŸ ŃĐ”ŃĐŽŃĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐČОЎДл Đ”Ń ŃĐ»ŃбаŃŃĐ”ĐčŃŃ Ń ĐŽŃŃĐłĐžĐŒ ĐŒŃжŃĐžĐœĐŸĐč. ЧŃĐŸ бŃĐŽĐ”Ń ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐ”? ĐĐŸĐ»ĐžŃĐ”ŃŃĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃ ĐŸĐłŃĐ°ĐœĐžŃĐ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃĐ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșŃ ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, ŃŃĐŸĐ±Ń ŃŃŃĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžŃŃ ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń ĐČаŃŃĐČаŃŃĐžŃ ĐłĐ»Đ°ĐČ! (ĐŃ Đ±ŃĐŽĐ”ŃĐ” аĐČŃĐŸĐŒĐ°ŃĐžŃĐ”ŃĐșĐž пДŃĐ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃаĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃĐșŃĐŸĐ”ŃĐ” ĐżŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/12024418-fb_contact- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 896 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/12024418-fb_contact-ruj57_2-0510-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213326171560790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465714126_1108290224152291_1667991243107963220_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Zv5cpArdWfkQ7kNvgENulMg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AOmoKXq4_QUPjshF2MHRqam&oh=00_AYAjMDbfK_sWmNe84WI1Ior7kN0MpnuNjU2j-uQ6XwJ1UQ&oe=67499D9B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | Chapter 1 "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?' | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 320 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/459267710_1921783964961503_8946365676895315333_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HNx1xgihGrwQ7kNvgGaE4nP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ANI7QVy7jAWXIcPZidKasmO&oh=00_AYDpuHMpGcLFxdI8qSZB82uUDhYHZK-tla-3BKKadTX60g&oe=6749AC2F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⊠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⊠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⊠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⊠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŠ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-eFFs6Zds_sQ7kNvgE0GuWr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Apq-W_ef3s5AtMTo5ZWFzxH&oh=00_AYC_PqG79xzo--QvVUGyR-POTdJusGcB9U5hvbvby2RQdA&oe=674989DF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,â a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,â a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! "It's time to end this!" | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 838 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&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/t39.35426-6/463838510_3169305699879240_251659659452484488_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Uq_hZuaDpt0Q7kNvgElkkfC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A6Wk4W6rSKexRJKU2T1fHMP&oh=00_AYCqfH8tZc6iUGd0vg8avLtC3m4fn33Zhd6gvsfK4yvBkA&oe=6749B64A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | 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. "PleaseâŠ." I beg. "He was an AlphaâŠI⊠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/ | 3,763 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | wwwedb.com | DCO | 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/t39.35426-6/460953608_2287989244886642_5179181780040500818_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7slQscVCI-sQ7kNvgEPng1q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ANOmYwfhp_t5fwKpKdunqaJ&oh=00_AYDDJ3lhB7r8xiEM393SA-h3PBkzfVzvlD0h79w9RUQwJg&oe=674993BB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đ„đ„Click to read the next chapter for freeđ | Chapter 1 Scented candles, champagne, and rose petals⊠check! Haley strolled across the bedroom. A crimson silk gown hugged her curves, flowing down her ankles, with a daring slit that revealed a glimpse of her slender leg. In the background, a soft melody played, lulling her to give in to the exhaustion from spending the whole day getting ready. For twenty-nine days, she'd been anticipating and preparing for tonight. Liam rarely came home. They'd been married for three years, but their relationship was nothing more than a distant coexistence. Her husband was always conveniently busy with work, hardly having time for her. The only proof of their relationship was the intimacy they shared once a month. Tonight marked their third anniversary. As one of the few nights Liam would get intimate with her, everything must be perfect. If only he'd come home now. The business trip should be over. His assistant told her Liam's plane landed an hour ago. Did an emergency come up at his company and he needed to take care of it? Bored, she picked up her phone, checking into her tiktok to kil-l time. Just then, a piece of news popped up, featuring NK Enterprise, her husband's company. Excited, Haley tapped into the news; "William Nash, Famous CEO of NK Enterprise, Checks Into Hotel With his Mystery Girlfriend, Relationship Revealed" William? Her Liam? Haley stood up, her eyes glued to her phone's screen, shock and disbelief taking over. Angry as well when she saw the image of her husband walking into the famous Eden Suites Hotel, his arm snaked around a woman's waist. And when the woman's face was revealed, so many thoughts flooded Haley's mind at once. Disbelief, fear, and uncertainty. Leah! The girl who looked a lot like Lisa, Liam's Ex. Leah was a mere receptionist at NK Enterprise until one day, Liam noticed the similarities she shared with his Ex. Not a week went by before he promoted her to the secretary position. Rumors were flying around at that time that William Nash had a soft spot for his secretary, Rumors Haley found hard to believe. Liam might be cold and unromantic with her, but he wasn't the kind of person she believed would have an affair, talk more with his secretary. But what was this news about? Liam must have gone to the hotel with his secretary for some business dealings, right? Still, what was with holding Leah's waist? Sinking in confusion was pointless. Haley dialed his number. He didn't answer the phone, heightening her anxiety. On her third trial, he finally picked up. âWhat's up?â His deep voice, heavy with tiredness, murmured through the phone. Haley inhaled deeply, controlling her emotions. âLiam, where are you? Today's our third anniversary, remember?â âSo?â From his careless tone, Haley couldn't help but imagine him rolling his eyes. âNot coming home. Sleep by yourself.â Knowing what she wanted, he still rejected her brutally, his voice holding no remorse, a gut-wrenching punch to her pride. Just then, a female voice, soft and seductive, came on the phone. âWilly, I'm thirsty.â Willy? Even Haley wasn't allowed to call him that. He truly was with a woman! At this hour, her husband was with a freaking woman! The phone beeped. He hung up the call. Dazed, Haley's gaze fell on the decorations; her hard work. She sank onto the bed, her thoughts spinning and that voice echoing. Leah. That was Leah's voice. What was happening? Did she misread Liam's lack of displaying affection for her as a part of his cold personality? Sleep departed Haley's eyes, and her throat was suddenly dry. She longed for anything to distract her from the confusing and heartbreaking thoughts, so she gulped down the champagne, wishing it'd wash her sadness away. Why did he love to hurt her feelings? During the times he never returned home, was he really with his secretary as the rumors had it? Haley stirred in the middle of the night, drowsy and starkly aware of the strong hands fondling with her gown. She found Liam hovering over her, trying to undress her. Haley blinked. Urgh! Why was she dreaming about this man who only knew to break her heart? Yet, as his fingers grazed her body, goosebumps spread across her skin, and she winced. âHey, waitâŠâ Haley stopped him, her voice hoarse from crying, still wanting to confirm if she was dreaming. Liam smirked. âYou called me back. Isn't it for this?â Haley blushed. He came back. Maybe she'd misunderstood again. âI've got you our anniversary present. Wanna see it?â She asked. âBoring.â He trailed kisses down her neck, pulling her nightgown down. âUhm, LiamâŠâ Irritation flashed in his eyes when she interrupted again. Haley gulped, summoning courage, grateful for the whole bottle of champagne she'd emptied in her stomach. âC- Can⊠Can you not wear it tonight?â Liam halted. His dark eyes bore a hole through her heart, his expression frosting over. The atmosphere became so stale and suffocating, and her breathing hitched when he pushed her away. âYou're always okay with me wearing protection.â His dark voice made her shudder. âWhy not now?â Haley cowered to the bed's headboard, flushed and embarrassed. She looked down. âIt's your Grandma. She laments every day about us not having a baby.â âGrandma, huh?â He scoffed, pinning her with a glare. âMore like you're desperate to have a child to keep the title of Mrs. Nash in this family!â His mouth spat venom. Haley held back her tears and clenched her fists, the bitterness in his words spreading from her heart and numbing her whole. Chapter 2 She loved him and wanted to have his baby. Was it a crime to ask? A marriage was supposed to be a union of mutual consent where the couple lived harmoniously. But she didn't even have a right to voice out her heart desires. His words fell over her like chilled water, dousing the wine's effect, and dampening her hope. Haley sobered up immediately, grief clutching her heart. âLiam, do you think I married you just for money?â Haley didn't see those words coming from him. Through her actions, her genuine love was obvious. While he spent most nights outside, she maintained a perfect home for him to return to. She neither complained nor demanded his affection, just giving and never taking. Why couldn't he see it? The suspicion in his eyes as he stared at her hurt more than daggers piercing her heart. If only she could read his thoughts- his mind. âWhat else do you expect me to think!â Liam spat out, unaware of the poisonous effect of his words on her heart. Or maybe he was aware. âHaley Nash, don't overstep your limits. I'll never have children with you. Don't forget how you plotted to marry me in the first place!â His words weren't only insulting, but also heartbreaking, reducing her to a desperate woman eager for his affection. Where did she go wrong? She gave him her heart, and he didn't have any trouble with crushing it at every opportunity he got. âYou're still not over Lisa, are you?â Haley shouldn't have asked the now obvious truth. Back then, Lisa had been the only obstacle to her happiness; the man she loved. While she'd desperately longed for him, he never spared her a glance. His eyes were only for Lisa. However, didn't Leah share a great resemblance with Lisa, his Ex? Instead of acknowledging Haley's feelings, he'd transferred all the love he had for his Ex to Leah. To him, Leah was a mirror, reflecting his first love, Lisa. Liam didn't answer her question, his dark eyes narrowing into slits, the emotions in his eyes unreadable. He left the room, slamming the door. Desperation fueling her grief, Haley scurried off the bed and went after him. Wiping her tears furiously, she hurried to catch up with him. âLetâs get a divorce,â Haley blurted out. Liam halted in his steps. His back facing her, his body went rigid. A moment of silence went by, filled with tension. Haley watched him with bated breath, her heartbeat picking up. âFine.â He moved. Without a glance in her direction, the man walked away. Fine. Just fine? Haley chuckled, her laughter mixed with tears. For three years, she'd overworked herself beyond measure only to please the man she loved. She was the perfect wife, the best daughter-in-law. Whenever he came back home sick, she stayed up all night nursing him. While she always hid her illness from him so as to not bother him. She might look pale and fragile, but he never cast her a glance talk more of asking how she was feeling. Despite that, Haley never complained. She only wanted to be perfect for him, to melt his cold heart someday. Yet, her divorce proposal was only received with a single word, almost insignificant. 'Fine.' It showed he never cared, and would never. If only she'd realized that earlier. On the first day she saw him in college, he stole her heart. That was the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to her. At that time, he was with Lisa. She dared not be the third wheel. Haley had been bold enough to confess her feelings when Lisa left and dumped him. She'd offered him comfort, striving to mend his heart. She worked hard to get his attention, getting into his family's good books, and sacrificing her own familyâs happiness. Her hard work paid off as Liam eventually noticed her. Thinking he'd forgotten Lisa, Haley married him happily. But the nightmare began on their wedding night. He set rules for her; Their intimacy would only happen once a month. She wasn't allowed to call him with any endearing name. She wasn't allowed to cook his food or touch his things. She wasn't allowed to ask more than he gave her. She was never allowed to make their relationship public. Thinking he only needed time to adjust to her, she'd had no objections. Tears blurred Haley's vision. She leaned by the wall, blinking at her phone's screen that suddenly lit up. A message notification appeared. Wondering who was messaging her this late, she clicked on the message. [I'm pre-gnant. It's time for me to become the new Mrs. Nash.] A message from his secretary. To put it accurately, his mistress, Leah. Haley gripped the phone, her body trembling. Accompanying the message was a screenshot of a pregnan-cy test result. It turned out, Liam didn't hate babies after all. He just didn't want to have one with her! How disappointing that she'd wasted her time thinking he only disliked having babies. What's the point in sticking with a man who wouldn't value her? Haley wiped her tears. She'd been having second thoughts whenever the decision came to her mind to just leave the man, because a part of her mind always held hope for a better future for them. But right now, the future seemed ridiculous, almost laughable. Even Leah whom he only hired three months ago was now pragnant with his child. The more Haley clung onto this man, the more he'd enjoy breaking her, reveling in her misery. That night, Haley retrieved the document she'd hidden in a dark corner of the closet. Staring at it, her heart throbbed tremendously, a part of her dying in that moment, A pain brought by watching her years of hard work crumbling right before her. She took in a deep breath, sniffing back the tears she now hated more than anything, Tears that reminded her of how weak and helpless she'd reduced herself to all in the name of begging for love. Never again. Chapter 3 The Next Morning. As Liam ate breakfast in the dining room, the atmosphere was stale and somehow still as if something was amiss. He glanced at the empty chair across from him now and then, his thoughts wiring back to last night. Where was that crazy woman? Was she still inside the bedroom shedding crocodile tears? Spending the whole night in the study room was enough to teach her a lesson. At least, she'd lost the chance of him touching her this month. She would never bring up that ridiculous topic again. Yet, halfway through eating, Liam's indifference turned into a small frown that formed on his face, his eyes darting upstairs. Did she think that starving herself would make him give in and grant her wish? How silly. Liam summoned the maid. âWhy isn't Mrs. Nash coming down? Go and get her.â But the maid lingered, her fearful gaze avoiding his eyes. With a hesitant look on her face, she extended a gift box to him. âActually⊠M-Mr, Nash. Mrs. Nash left the house an hour ago. She left this box for you.â Liam's frown deepened. What was that woman up to? He took the box impatiently, and his eyes caught the tag on it. â3rd Anniversary Giftâ âHow childish.â The corner of his li-ps twitched mockingly, a subtle smile forming. Liam tore the wraps around the box, wondering if this was the present she insisted on giving him last night. Once he revealed the content of the box, however, he narrowed his eyes at the white document with the word âDivorce Agreement!â boldly written at the top. Liam smashed his fist on the table and shot to his feet. He snat-ched the papers. Divorce! Was she serious last night? His nerves rippling with rage, he flipped through the papers, his eyes widening more seeing her signatures on each section. [Reason for Divorce: Disharmony in se-x!] His anger hit the ceiling when he saw that. The words sounded more like he didn't satisfy her enough in bed. How dare she mock him in such a demeaning manner? She was becoming bold, huh? Dramatic! Liam grabbed his phone, clutching it. His breathing ragged, he dialed her number. âWhere the hel are you!!!â âJust sign the divorce, William Nash.â Her calm voice was devoid of the desperation from last night. âThen you're fr-ee to have kids with any woman you want.â She hung up instantly, leaving him in a daze. For several minutes, Liam stood in the same spot, staring at the papers, not believing his eyes. Was she really serious? Then a thought came to his mind and he snickered. After trying all possible means, she resorted to this silly trick to get his attention. That crazy woman never ran out of ideas. Well, an hour was enough for her to return to her senses. She'd soon beg him and claim it was a joke. With that in mind, Liam got ready and left for his company. In the afternoon, he found himself thinking about her tantrum, unable to finish any work. So he took his phone and called the house's telephone, knowing she'd answer it. But instead of Haley, the maid answered the phone. âMr. Nash, is there something you need?â âWhere's Haley?â Liam gritted out. âUhm, Mr. Nash⊠Mrs. Nash hasn't come back,â the maid answered with a sigh. Liam cut the call brutally! Haley! What was she still doing outside? Did she go to his Grandmother to complain about him? When evening approached, Liam dialed the house's telephone again, ready to lash at her. Yet, it was the maid who answered the phone again. âMr. Nash, Mrs. Nash didn't return.â She sounded worried. âShe has never left the house for this long.â Liam cut the call. He tugged at his necktie and began pacing in his office, his emotion a mix of anger and disbelief. Haley was going too far. She'd better end this prank before he extended her punishment. While he was walking back and forth, his assistant, Joye, came in with some documents. âMr. Nash, these are from the HR-â âCheck the money on Haley's card. Is there any change from yesterday?â Liam interrupted him, his voice sounding desperate. Danmit! Was he desperate? He just wanted to find more reasons to punish that woman in case she spent his money recklessly. âRight away, Mr. Nash!â Joye returned later, the look of horror on his face making Liam wonder if someone died on his way back. âMr. Nash- Mr. Nash, you won't believe this!â Joye barged into the office. Liam was impatient. âWhat is it!? And where's the task I gave you?â Joye opened his mouth wide, looking as if he'd seen a ghost. âIt turns out Mrs. Nash has never touched a single penny on her card! Isn't that strange?â That was impossible. It was hard to believe. If Haley had never spent a single penny on his card, where did she get all the money she used to bu-y meaningless gifts for him? Those expensive wristwatches, the cufflinks made of gold, the expensive neckties and designer shoes⊠and also the expensive perfumes she'd stacked inside his closet, not to mention the limited edition sports car she got him as a birthday gift two months ago! Weren't they all bought with his money? Did she swindle them from his Grandmother? After all, she'd always pretended to be nice to his clueless Grandmother in or-der to get close to him. âErm, Mr. NashâŠâ Joye said, snapping him from his thoughts. His assistant scratched his head nervously, giving him a worried look. âYou look pale and you're sweating⊠is everything alright?â Liam threw him a glare. âIt's nothing.â âUhm, but, Mr. Nash, if you feel sick, I can call the Madam as always,â Joye suggested. âBy the way, isn't she an amazing woman? All women out there would lavish your money, but she-â âGo away.â Liam chased the noisy guy out. For the first time, he was a bit flustered. But as he sat on his chair, he whispered to himself, âWell, she's a nobody without me. She'll soon run back and apologize.â Chapter 4 At IvoryRains Apartment Building, located downtown. Haley settled in her new apartment, the small and cozy interior a stark contrast to the luxury and glam of Liam's Villa. Yet, in this mini apartment, she felt somehow at peace with herself. Her mind, once clouded with thoughts of Liam alone, was now clearing up. Every minute of her life had been filled with thinking about him, brainstorming different ways to make the man happy. Even though she loved Liam, it was worthless to live in a marriage with three people in it. Haley could stomach anything the man threw at her, but not a betrayal as big as having an affair and impregnating another woman. Lost in her thoughts, the sound of her phone's ringtone snapped her back to the present. Haley picked up the phone from the small table stand, staring at the contact display name. She'd developed this habit of shuddering in fear whenever her mother-in-law called, and now she found herself repeating the same thing. âHabits die hard, don't they?â Bracing up herself, Haley pressed the answer button, knowing too well not to put the phone any way close to her ears, lest she risked losing her eardrums. âWhat's keeping you from coming, you stup-id insignificant girl!â Vera Nash seemed to be in a very bad mood, as her voice blared like a trumpet through the phone. âWhy don't you come and help me clean today! Did you forget it's Monday!?â Haley pursed her li-ps. Indeed, she used to go to Liam's mother's place every Monday to do house chores for her every week, under the woman's stern command. Haley replied, âI won't go there today.â âEh? Not coming!?â Vera shouted, disbelief ebbing her tone. âDo you know who's speaking, Haley? How dare you talk to me like that when you're a barren woman? You should be happy I even let you stay with my son!â And so began her train of insults. Vera never missed any opportunity to tell Haley how useless she was without a child in the Nash family. Haley digested the insult, always keeping a perfect attitude in 0rder not to anger her mother-in-law. But right now, she felt abu.sed, the woman's insult angering her so much that her body was shaking. âVera Nash, soon there will be someone to help your son have a baby.â Haley cut the call, something she'd never done before. But it felt so satisfying to hang up on the spiteful woman. She couldn't live like this anymore. Years of hard work didn't get her recognized by Liam's parents. Even if Haley hanged herself someday in the name of her love for the man, she doubted if Liam and his parents would even bat an eye. Why should she live her life for others when she could be herself? With that in mind, Haley unpacked her belongings. She spent half of the day cleaning the apartment, decorating it to her liking, and hanging her clothes on the rack. As the evening approached, Haley left the apartment building, heading to DG Jewelry Corp., her favorite jewelry company. They had recently opened up vacancies for physical applicants. With her portfolio in handy, Haley spent more than an hour in the HR Department, undergoing the initial interviews and some physical tests. âAlthough we're open for applications, this company is top-notch among Its competitors. Don't think you can get in so easily, Young Lady,â Seemingly amazed by Haley's confidence, the manager warned. Haley only smiled, her rapt attention fixed on the pieces of gemstones scattered on the desk in front of her. Carefully, she picked each one with a holder, crafting an intricate design on the plain golden necklace. It was only a demo that lasted for thirty minutes, yet, the outcome had all the employees gathering around, their widened eyes gleaming with awe and astonishment. âOh my Gosh! I can't breathe.â âIt's perfect! How did she even do that in such a short time?â âShe must have years of experience to be able to pull it off so effortlessly without a single mistake.â âWho's she? Can we see her portfolio?â However, the manager in whose hands was her portfolio looked a bit pale, his hands shaking. His voice cracked as he spoke, his gaze darting from Haley to her portfolio. âSo it's youâŠâ Haley raised an inquisitive brow, smiling. âI beg your pardon.â âScratch that! You've been approved, Young Lady. Go ahead and meet the CEO while I forward him your documents!â The Manager's action surprised other employees. Haley wasn't a bit astonished but relieved that the man was quick-witted enough to grasp the situation and hid her secret. The first floor was the fine jewelry customization area and the fifth floor was the designer's office. She lingered by to admire the pieces of jewelry each encased inside a glass stand. Wowed by the glittering objects and inspired by many designs, she lost track of time admiring the jewelry. Some of the jewelry looked very familiar, and for the first time, Haley was happy, seeing the jewelry on display. For a few minutes, she forgot the chaos and the heartache caused by Liam's betrayal. Knowing it was near closing time, Haley proceeded to the fifth floor. She was about to take the elevator when she heard the most annoying voice. "Haley, what are you doing here? It's such bad luck." Chapter 5 Turning around, Haley came face to face with Leah. Her good mood plummeted instantly, replaced by irritation and disgust when Leah all but flashed her a sweet smile, rubbing her flat tummy. âDo I need to tell you where I'm going?â Haley replied. âYou're just a mistress.â Leah's eyes dimmed, and her smile faded into a deep scowl. âI might be a mistress now, but not anytime soon.â Her tone filled with arrogance, she eyed Haley from head to toe. âAs you can see, I'm here to pick out mine and Will's wedding rings.â âOw?â Haley put on a surprised look, feigning happiness. âFinally, someone to pack off my garbage. Congrats, and please talk to Liam and let him sign the divorce papers soon. Or you will still be the mistress.â Her tone light and full of mockery, Haley was surprised at her own calmness as she stood in front of the woman who literally seduced her husband. Forget it. Liam was no better. Leah's expression switched from white to green, her fingernails digging into her palms. She breathed heavily. âI know you're jealous because you can never give Willy even a single child. Doesn't he hate you?â Leah went on caressing that spot in her ab-domen, giving Haley a taunting look. âForget it, I wonât waste my time with you, after all, I'm pragnant now, it's not good for the baby to be angry.â Disgusted, Haley felt like vomiting. Just how morally twisted Leah was to flaunt an affair in public? They'd only met a few times in the past. Haley once visited Liam's office to deliver his launch to pave the way for their closeness. While the man chased her out, Leah was there and had a triumphant smile on her face. Haley disregarded it. To not irritate Liam further, she avoided getting into a fight with any of his employees. But one day, Liam brought her home for dinner with the excuse that they were just back from a business gala. It had been evident in Leah's eyes that she wanted to covet her husband but Haley didn't mind because she trusted Liam. Very funny! The two deserved each other. Deeming standing there a waste of her time, she turned to walk into the elevator when Leah screamed at her. âStop right there!â Leah trotted forward on her high heels, blocking Haley's path. âDid you bu-y jewelry here using Will's card, poor bit-ch? You're such a greedy woman, you're getting divorced and you still spend his money.â Haley pushed her out of the way. âTsk, a cheating man deserves a dumb woman. Who said I came here to bu-y jewelry? I came here for an interview, duh!â Waving her portfolio at her, Haley snickered. She didn't waste time to watch the dumbfounded look on Leah's face, and she walked into the elevator which took her to the fifth floor. There⊠A stream of other applicants was waiting for the final round of interviews. Haley found an empty spot and sat on one of the waiting chairs. She glanced at her wristwatch nervously, tapping her feet on the floor. With this many applicants waiting in line, it would take a miracle for her to get the final interview. âGosh! I'm so nervous!â A female sitting beside her shuddered. âI heard the chairman of the design department is so strict!â Another female whispered. âHe's not only the chairman, but also the CEO of the DG Group,â said the guy sitting by her right. âAwwwn, Andrew Woods. I heard he is handsome and charismatic. Lavishes money on his women mercilessly!â Said the girl sitting close to Haley. âI've pulled many stunts to get to this final interview! I have to get this job!â She added with resolve which made Haley chuckle a bit. âYou're quite ambitious, Amby. Rumor has it that he's married. Can you afford that?â âSo what? As long as he's willing-â Haley shook her head. It turned out not all applicants were here for the job. Her gesture caught the girl's attention. She eyed Haley, a look of displeasure evident in her eyes. âYou're not also here to covet Andrew Woods, are you?â âBelieve me, I'll pass.â Haley chuckled. âIs she crazy?â âI bet Andrew Woods will glance at her twice because she's pretty. Isn't he only into pretty women?â âI think she's just arrogant. Let's see if she even gets the job.â The females whispered among themselves, making Haley the center of attention. The guy sitting by her right sighed. âIt's hard to believe that you're not interested in the god of money, Andrew Woods.â He lowered his voice. âYou just earned my respect, Young Lady.â âYou never know what's inside someone's mind,â said the girl called Amby. âDon't believe her so easily, she might have a trick up her sleeves just like we all do.â âAnother thought. She's giving up early because she knows she'll never stand a chance!â The second female rolled her eyes. âYeah. From the looks of it, she comes from a poor background.â Laughed the third female. Their words fell on deaf ears because, at that moment, the secretary came out and called Haley's name. âMr. Woods requests to see a lady called Haley. Is she here?â Haley raised her hand and stood up. âPlease follow me, Young Lady.â The secretary smiled warmly, leading the way. As Haley followed her into the office, the whispers behind her increased, their voices filled with disbelief and suspicion. Haley stepped into the office. Sitting across the wide mahogany desk was the strong man. The air around the office seemed to thicken, his intimidating presence capable of snatching anyone's breath away. Not Haley's breath, though. Her heartbeat was intact. The man didn't didn't look up, his eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him, concealing his face. Haley could only imagine, her heart sinking in gloom as she fiddled with her fingers, a slight guilt tugging at her heart. âPlease introduce yourself,â he murmured deeply, his tone lacking patience. Sighing, Haley cleared her throat, her voice crisp and nervous. âI'm Haley, here to interview for the designer position.â Instantly, the man lifted his head as if compelled by a rapid force, and Haley saw his face. Chapter 6 The man's expression was masked by surprise for a few seconds, then he laughed. âWhat took you so long to visit my company?â Haley loosened up. Her li-ps pulled into a happy smile and she ran over and hugged him. âI'm finally here, Brother. How's life treating you?â âFantastic!â He stood up and lifted her in the air, his laughter resounding in the office walls. âIt was boring all day long before you appeared. What a huge surprise!â Seeing the happiness in her brother's eyes as he welcomed her warmly, Haley's guilt expanded. She pursed her li-ps and sighed as he put her down. âWhy the gloomy look? Lemme guess, you miss your husband already just after arriving here.â Her brother pinched her cheek, taunting her. Then his brows pulled together in a displeased frown. âYou've lost a lot of flesh. What's with the skinny look? Are you on a diet?â Haley shook her head. It was true that she'd lost a tremendous amount of weight in the past few years. Ever since she married Liam, Haley couldn't help but notice that. The years of house chores had greatly worn her out. âBig BroâŠâ she tugged at his jacket sleeve, acting spoiled. âThe truth is⊠I'm divorcing Liam-â âWhat!?â Her brother didn't let her finish speaking. Looking flabbergasted, Andrew Woods sank into his chair. âYou're pulling my legs. That is the most ridiculous joke ever! Don't you love that guy like your whole life depends on it?â It hurt to be reminded of how silly she'd been. âYou even went against us, your family, to marry him, remember?â He reminded her. âSo stop cooking up lies. As your Big Bro, I won't punish you for running off to marry him in secret.â Blinking her eyes, Haley fought to hold back her tears. She sat beside him on the chair's armrest and narrated everything to him. âSo you see, it's not worth living in a loveless marriageâŠâ Haley was afraid she would run mad someday because of that heartless man. She was even happy she survived the torture of those three years. After hearing her story, her brother sighed. âThree years ago, you left us to marry William. I thought you could live happily with him. I didn't think he'd dare bully you.â Haley had been so blinded by love that she refused to listen to any word her family said. She ended up getting disowned by her own parents. âHow about forgetting that as-shole and coming home with me today? Mom and Dad miss you,â her brother suggested. Haley would jump at the opportunity, but⊠"I'll definitely go back, but not now. As soon as Liam signs the divorce papers, I'll move back home.â She couldn't meet her parents at the moment. What was she gonna tell them? How was she gonna apologize? Would they be able to forgive her? Her Brother was kind and understanding enough, but sometimes Haley couldn't understand her parents who had a bad temper. Crossing them was one of her biggest mistakes. "In the meantime, how about taking me in as a designer in this company?" Haley asked. "I'm using my first name anyway, people won't know you're my brother." Andrew's eyes shone with happiness. âYou want to work here? As long as you are willing, the whole company can be given to you." âHaha! That's too much to ask, Bro.â Haley laughed. âLook at you being picky.â He ruffled up her hair. âIf it's the DG Group you want, I'll hand it all over. You're my only Sis anyway.â But Haley denied. âI just want to work as a designer.â Disappointed, Andrew nodded. "I donât understand. Why don't you let me announce you to a higher position in the company?" That would be too much. Knowing her brother well, he'd insist on giving her the best. So Haley changed the topic. "Actually, I've been working with this company for a long time." Her brother looked pale immediately. âWait, what do you mean?â âDo you like last month's newest necklace "Treasure"?â Haley asked. Her brother was speechless. âSo you are âCrystalâ? The most mysterious jewelry designer?â Haley smiled and nodded. Andrew looked thoughtful. "I wondered why Crystal is willing to work with our company, it's you!!!â Haley flushed in embarrassment. "I just want to start as a new designer in this company, so I don't need to let anyone else know who I am.â âWhy though?â The frown returned to Andrew's face. âYou're an exceptional designer! Everyone's dying to meet âCrystalâ and I can't wait to boast about you!â The more he spoke, the more embarrassed Haley felt. âCome on, Bro⊠let's keep this our little secret.â She added, âI'm confident that I can prove myself, and I don't want to attract Liam's attention.â Under the alias âCrystalâ Haley had designed countless jewelry and sold them out at huge prices. She wanted to feel confident about her love for Liam, so she worked hard to afford the gifts a powerful man like him would appreciate. But instead of appreciating those gifts, Liam left them to rot. The only sensible thing he'd ever done was hand over the sports car she'd bought as his birthday gift to charity. âYou've suffered all these yearsâŠâ Andrew patted her hair gently. âI'll help you get revenge and teach that heartless man a lesson.â Haley shook her head and whispered, "No need, it's not worth wasting energy on unimportant people.â âHave you really let go?â Andrew asked worriedly. Haley nodded. âThe future is bright. I'll never look back.â âYou've matured a lot.â Her brother stared at her proudly. âSince you've said so, I'll let him off. Just promise me you'll always be happy.â Haley hugged him again. âI promise.â Three years of hardship was enough for her to mature. She would never be stu-pid again. Haley's phone rang, disrupting the silence. Seeing Liam's name blinking on the screen, her eyes dimmed. âHave you made enough of a scene? Now come back home!â The first words he said when she answered the phone. Haley almost laughed out loud, but his words weren't funny. For three years, she'd gotten used to his authoritative voice always 0rdering her around, but now it sounded foreign in her ears. âWilliam Nash, I told you to just sign the divorce papers. Leave me alone,â she replied, her low voice calm. Haley had been so used to him yelling at her but not anymore. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 838 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449303964_1384479978899659_7912739088474495481_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=aP6QZPNtCO4Q7kNvgHx1Lx-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ANI7QVy7jAWXIcPZidKasmO&oh=00_AYBd_tepuTPX7wNE_0A7iTwqo2XoMXo9nDHi-TSn5e8chw&oe=6749B71C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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