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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ Lily POV After my mother slapped me and pushed me down the stairs on the morning of my sister Stephanie's death memorial, I fell unconscious, but the moment I woke up, I was in Stepahnie's memorial while my fated mate Alpha James mind-linked me, "Little Mate, don't you want to know who spent the night in my bedroom last night?" James smirked at me. This is his revenge for Stephanie, his late girlfriend. "You deserve this. Vile murderer! That's how you pay for causing my girlfriend's death!" He roared at me the other day by the waterfall when we found each other to be fated mates. My dead sister's boyfriend and I. What a joke the Moon Goddess plays. But I will not sit idly when the betrayal pains were about to rip my heart apart. "I, Lily Borgen, reject you Alpha James!" I snarled back. ... James POV It's been a few months since I accepted Lily rejection and she ran away from the pack. Regrets are the only thing I ever feel these days. I love her, she is my fated mate! For god's sake. Dr. Hyden from the neighboring pack brought me the information of Lily. Thank godness, she is alive! But she won't come back to the pack that has tortured her for years. "Son, I am sorry for what happened between you and Lily. But you need to move on." My mother comforted me,"Maybe it's a good idea to have another woman to be by your side." I know what she meant. "Mom, I couldn't forget Lily. Please stop this. I was so wrong to her." Thinking back how I bullied her and punished her by sleeping with othe women, my heart ached. "Actually, I have a question for you." Suddenly, I became suspicious of why my mother was so keen on my moving on. "Did you know how Stephanie really die?" An unprecedented terror appeared on her face. LEARN_MORE https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 842 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 getokn.com DCO https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&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/t39.35426-6/454354541_1623250035121587_2159191077544399873_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mi7ikBNV7-4Q7kNvgGOL1Yl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJ8X3ONxY_vOf4UIUPiWLiE&oh=00_AYDH919QAd_f9oPmIxdTtTVQovzuG3KR9HJtAe67NYlWbg&oe=67459F40 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage 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 won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." 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 wife’s 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, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve 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, she’s 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 estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t 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, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why 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.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” 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 family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left 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/ 321 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=pi5R4WJUIpIQ7kNvgEzCJgZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYBtg8yTm-pbr289GR_VaSkHLuolS_VNsquaAxAxjroe6A&oe=6745A035 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 đŸ”„đŸ”„Click to read the next chapter for free👉 Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,” a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,” 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!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.” The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.” What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe it—I called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for you—the CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. He’s taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "It’s strange how different men can be—one boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didn’t ease in the slightest. 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! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." 
 Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumed—she wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasn’t too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room table—a divorce agreement! Dylan’s gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylan’s brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. “Suzy, I’m curious to see what game you’re playing this time.” His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes—a feeling he might not have even noticed himself. “What is it?” On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, “Sir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!” His brow tightened immediately. “I’m on my way!” At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, “Mr. Wright, it’s highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospital
” Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allen’s worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylan’s cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didn’t wouldn’t have flinched even if they saw her hanging—they’d think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasn’t at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzy’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allen’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. I’ll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadn’t she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didn’t dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didn’t want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allen’s anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "He’s dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that I’ll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didn’t find her?" “There isn’t a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,” Desmond said hesitantly, then added, “As for Mrs. Wright, she’s an orphan with no family. Everything she’s done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up
 so we haven’t been able to locate her either.” "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadn’t noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.” "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "She’s renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now she’s reappeared. “I've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin family’s estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... “Sorry
” The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at him—it was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy
 “Mr. Wright, we’re so honored by your presence. I’m sorry for not greeting you properly
” The voice of the Goodwin family’s butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her face—was she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadn’t left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, “Wait a sec—" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certain—this woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasn’t bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadn’t apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skills—he was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasn’t hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red Falcon
" She wasn’t just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasn’t good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falcon—leave no detail out." He had to find out what he’d done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. We’ve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." 
 "Boss, someone’s digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. They’ve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. I’m having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Let’s go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one word— LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Their boss’ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylan’s darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably don’t know it’s you, so I’m sure they didn’t mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anne’s poisoning—everything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylan’s eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. 
 Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allen’s phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzy’s hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldn’t swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctor’s help. We’re willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylan’s relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadn’t been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylan’s grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, I’ll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I don’t treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.” Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzy’s expression, he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzy’s message to Dylan. Dylan’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped her—she wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them I’ll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Grace’s favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated — first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more — as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, he’d pay any price. He owed Anne too much. 
 Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed
 It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldn’t help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldn’t! He’d wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million — since he was foolish and rich, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anne’s hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasn’t Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anne’s condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be
 Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anne’s awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. “I am Dylan’s most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive you
” “Slap!” After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you don’t want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasn’t here to murder her. Anne’s fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, “Someone is trying to murder
” Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. “I didn’t want to murder you
” Suzy’s fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. “But since you seem tired of living, I’ll grant your wish!” This wasn’t just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylan’s favorite. Now... She didn’t care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadn’t been for her protection, Anne wouldn’t have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anne’s life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzy’s gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred million—there was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylan’s eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, “Sir, there’s no one here.” “Call the doctor.” Dylan’s gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." “Yes, sir!” After the doctor’s examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attacker’s identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anne’s eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, there’s something I’ve hesitated to say, but she’s really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzy’s name, and Anne couldn’t let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "I’m already half-dead from the poison—why won’t she leave me alone? Does she think I’m not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didn’t respond directly. He simply said, "We’ve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.” Anne’s eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.” “There’s always someone better who can treat you. We’ve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. You’ll be cured soon.” “Red Falcon?” Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. “Is she really that skilled?” “Yes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.” Dylan’s voice softened. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” For Anne, it was always “I’ll handle everything
” For Suzy, it was always “This doesn’t concern me
” Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a trace—so swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. “Boss, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Suzy kept walking without stopping. “Stop worrying about nothing.” However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldn’t be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldn’t allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadn’t fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Boss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?” Suzy paused briefly. “It’s Scarlet Veil.” “Screech
” The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. “Scarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didn’t you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?” “There’s one last dose
 with the Harlow family.” “Claude Harlow?” Allen’s eyes widened. “What kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again
 she’ll be no better than a dog in heat
” Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, she’d rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasn’t about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldn’t swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her family—she wasn’t going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the deal’s off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. 
 In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylan’s face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falcon—first she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didn’t she know just how bad Dylan’s temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answered—otherwise, his phone would’ve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasn’t worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. “I’m looking for Red Falcon,” Dylan said bluntly. “She’s not available. If there’s something you need, you can tell me, and I’ll pass it along.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “The price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?” “Please, Mr. Wright, stay calm. It’s true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think we’d walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didn’t have a reason to?” “What’s the reason?” “That’s not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.” Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second
 Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. “Find her!” Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, “Easier said than done.” Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. “Dylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.” Anne sneered. “He keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems she’s all talk. She must’ve realized she couldn’t actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.” “If she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.” “So, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!” Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didn’t matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylan’s wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? You’ll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.” “Thanks for the good wishes. Once I’ve secured Dylan, there’ll be plenty of rewards for you.” 
 The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claude’s whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. “Claude’s on a business trip to Montara.” “Book a flight.” The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since she’d been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldn’t believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claude’s hotel, only to be told, “Mr. Claude checked out early this morning.” Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. “Over here
” Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, “Another unlucky day.” It wasn’t that she feared him; she just didn’t want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didn’t want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. “Are you sure she was on this flight?” Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, “I’ve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.” Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzy’s disappearance, Red Falcon’s cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anne’s hospital room only to escape under full lockdown—those three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "I’ve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylan’s voice turned icy. “Where is she?” Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldn’t understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. “Desmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,” Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something
 In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzy’s striking beauty. The fact that he’d even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "I’ve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasn’t discouraged. She moved closer again. "Don’t be shy. We’re both adults here. What’s there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allen’s car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, I just found out... Dylan wasn’t looking for Red Falcon. He’s been trying to find his missing wife
” "Yeah, that’s me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...You’re married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allen’s tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. She’s just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allen’s life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anne’s mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheep’s clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip — and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadn’t been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldn’t even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now — someone William wouldn’t recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didn’t want to delve deeper into the subject, she didn’t push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that there’s never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servants—a total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, they’ll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didn’t get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "We’ll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. She’d head home for some rest first. Besides, Anne’s second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. 
 That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was time—the second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasn’t Dylan who answered—it was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. What’s the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether it’s me or my grandmother, we’ve both accepted his wife as family. You’d better stay far away from him." Anne wasn’t fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably don’t know that they’re divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. There’s no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasn’t been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylan’s face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell me—is Suzy divorcing you or not?" "That’s none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandma’s life! If it weren’t for her, we’d both be orphans by now. You can’t be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "I’m calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldn’t figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadn’t launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anne’s number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anne’s pained voice came through. "What’s wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like I’m dying. Please come and save me!" "Don’t panic. I’m on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." “Where does it hurt?” Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skin—itching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. “I’ll call the doctor.” “No, I don’t want a doctor. I want you.” Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. “Please, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like I’m dying. If you don’t help me, I really will die...” As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. “Anne, calm down...” “I can’t calm down...” She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, “Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...” Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadn’t said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anne’s eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. “Mr. Dylan, do you hate me?” Dylan didn’t respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. “I’m calling a doctor.” Anne wasn’t about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. “I told you, I don’t want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...” “Anne, something is clearly wrong with you,” Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You need to see a doctor.” “No doctor can help me. Only you can save me.” As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. “Please, save me. I’m begging you.” Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasn’t about helping Dylan—it was simply that she couldn’t bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didn’t expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldn’t quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. “Is this related to the poison in her system?” After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. “Yes, you’re right. The poison in Miss Anne’s body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, it’s suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.” Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her down—she hadn’t even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, “For now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.” “That’s going to be difficult...” the doctor began. “This poison is something I’ve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. I’m concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...” The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, “At this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.” “Absolutely not!” Dylan didn’t hesitate. “If it comes to that, we’ll use sedatives.” “But that might not be safe either
” “At least that way, she’ll maintain her dignity,” Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. “I can’t let her lose her honor.” So, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t touch her—he just didn’t want her to be ridiculed. Suzy’s mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadn’t said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didn’t want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylan’s phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought she’d made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. I’m allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasn’t worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agent—not to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadn’t gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldn’t give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The wind’s pretty strong tonight—careful you don’t bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasn’t easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead. LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 842 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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463603676_1575537693071797_6068888192638989593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SdXTIpqX7QsQ7kNvgESMcGy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYBQaz1z4cFeGpUikYyk_KDmdl86HhuHt_pE7zo3h9ahaQ&oe=6745AC4A PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However
 "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were
 I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. 
 Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. 
 At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. 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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Read next chapter👉 Because of cheating, he divorced her. She left a sentence, "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO and a single mother of triplets. The faces of her three children are exactly like his ... ============= Chapter 1 Ex-girlfriend Returns Raegan Hayes was a little absent-minded at the moment. All she could think of since this afternoon was the doctor's words. "Congratulations! You are going to be a mom." Suddenly, Mitchel Dixon pinched her arm. His low voice came the next second. "Come back to earth. What are you thinking about?" Mitchel was her husband. They had been married secretly for two years. He was her superior at work, the president of the Dixon Group. Everything had happened so fast. She was newly employed in the company when they unexpectedly got married. At that time, Mitchel's grandfather fell seriously ill. It was then he proposed a fake marriage just to fulfill his grandfather's dying wish. They signed a prenup, agreeing to hide their marriage from the public. Their union could be terminated at any time. It was an unconventional thing to do. However, Raegan only considered herself lucky at that time. Never in a million years did she think she would ever get married to the man she had a crush on for eight years. She delightfully agreed. After their marriage, Mitchel was very busy. He spent most of his time working. Raegan wished she could spend more time with him at home. However, she was rest assured because there hadn't been any rumors or scandals about him with women in the past two years. Except for his mild indifference, Mitchel was a perfect husband. Raegan had mixed feelings as she stared at the medical report. In the end, she decided to tell Mitchel this news. She also wanted to tell him that she hadn't learned about him for the first time two years ago and that she had been crushing on him for many years before then. Just then, Mitchel’s phone rang. He went to the balcony and answered the phone. Raegan checked the time and found that it was already midnight. She felt a little uneasy. Who would call Mitchel at this hour? Mitchel spent a few minutes on the balcony. Thereafter, he returned and changed into formal attire. His handsome face which had a clear outline made him look dignified. He was something to see now. "Don't wait up for me. Good night," he said finally. What? He was on his way out? At this hour? Raegan's grip on the report tightened as she stared at him in disappointment. Unconsciously, she withdrew slightly. After thinking for a while, she blurted out, "It's already so late." Mitchel's fingers froze on his tie. With a faint smile, he pinched her earlobe and said, "Be good, okay? There's something I have to do. Don't wait up." With that, he headed for the door. "Mitchel." Raegan quickly ran and caught up with him. Mitchel turned around and looked at her seriously. "What's the matter?" There was a tinge of coldness to his voice. An icy cloud hung over them as they stared at each other. A little distressed, Raegan asked in a low voice, "I would like to visit my grandma tomorrow. Can you accompany me there?" Her grandmother always wanted to see her. As a result, Raegan wanted to take Mitchel there to assure her grandma they were happy. "Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" Without agreeing or declining, Mitchel left in a hurry. Several thoughts were threading Raegan's mind. She couldn't sleep a wink. After tossing and turning for a long time, she went to the kitchen and made herself a warm glass of milk. A few notifications from some online blogs came into her phone. However, she wasn't interested in them. She was about to swipe them away when one of them caught her attention. The familiar name made her click on it. The news read, "Famous designer, Lauren Murray was spotted at the airport with her mysterious boyfriend earlier today." Lauren was wearing a bucket hat. The man's figure was vague, but the outline of his body was enough to show that he was dashing. Raegan zoomed in on the picture. The next second, her heart dropped. Mitchel was the man in the picture! So, he canceled the afternoon meeting just to go pick up his ex-girlfriend from the airport? This realization settled like a boulder in Raegan's gut, rendering her flustered. Her hands trembled. Subconsciously, she dialed Mitchel's number. The dial tone brought her back to her senses. Just as she was about to hang up, the line connected, and a voice came from the other end. "Hello!" It was a particularly gentle woman's voice. Raegan froze for a second and then threw the phone away. She suddenly felt sick in her stomach. Covering her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet bowl. The next morning, Raegan went to work on time. Mitchel had tried to get her to stop working after they got married. Stubbornly, she insisted on making her own money. Mitchel didn't kick against her decision, but he asked her to work as his assistant, helping him with the daily chores. The head assistant, Matteo Jenkins was left to take care of the major affairs Mitchel had. Matteo was the only Dixon Group employee who knew about their marriage. Since inception, only male assistants were hired for the president's office. Reagan was the first and only female. Her employment broke the protocol. As a result, other workers couldn't help but wonder if she was involved with Mitchel. It took a while before they realized that Mitchel never gave Raegan special treatment. Strangely, this made them despise her even more. After all, no one would last long in anything while taking advantage of their looks. At this time, one of Raegan's colleagues handed her a document and ordered her to take it to Mitchel's office. Mitchel didn't return home last night. Raegan was so worried that she didn't sleep at all. All she kept thinking about was the woman who answered his phone when she called. What was her relationship with Mitchel? Raegan already knew the answer to that, but she was still in denial. It was difficult for her to come to terms with that fact. Raegan tried to remain calm now. She reasoned that no matter what happened, she deserved a result that would be rewarding for all the years she spent loving Mitchel. This couldn't be all for nothing, right? She pressed the elevator button calmly and went up to the president's office. Before she walked out of the elevator, she smoothed her hair to make sure she looked good. She had arrived at the office, only to see that the door was ajar. A man's voice came. She halted instantly. "Come on, man! Do you have any feelings for Raegan or not?" The voice belonged to Luis Stevens, a childhood friend of Mitchel's. "What do you mean exactly?" Mitchel asked in a cold voice. "You know exactly what I mean!" Luis clicked his tongue impatiently and added, "I think Raegan is a good girl. Isn't she your type?" "Do you want me to hand her over to you?" Mitchel asked carelessly. "You know what, forget it!" The scornful laughter of Luis sounded particularly harsh in Raegan's ears. They were talking about her as if she were an object. Raegan took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the document. Soon, Luis's voice was heard again. "By the way, I saw the gossip news about Lauren's mysterious boyfriend this morning. That was you, right?" "Yes." "Well, well, well! That woman still has you wrapped around her little finger. You always want to please her." Luis sighed and continued to tease Mitchel. "As the old saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Tell me, did you two..." Their conversation was like a thunder exploding over Raegan's head. Her face turned pale and her body was as cold as ice. The woman was indeed Lauren! Absence made the heart grow fonder! Every word drove a knife into her heart. Several whispering voices filled her head at this time. She suddenly felt light-headed. Her vision became blurry. She held the wall and took a step backward. Suddenly, the door was opened from inside. "Raegan?" Chapter 2 One-sided Love Luis was the one who opened the door. It appeared he was on his way out. Raegan balled her hands, turned to him, and nodded. "Hey, Mr. Stevens!" Without waiting for him to respond to her greeting, she walked past him and entered the office with the document. Mitchel was seated behind a large luxurious desk. In an expensive suit and matching tie, he looked particularly handsome. Raegan noticed it wasn't the same suit he had on when he left home last night. How did he get changed? With her eyes lowered, she swallowed that question and said instead, "Mr. Dixon, this is from the Marketing Department. Please sign it." Mitchel was expressionless as he signed the document at a glance. Raegan walked out the door as soon as he handed the document back to her. Luis was still standing at the threshold. It wasn't until she went out of sight that Luis turned to Mitchel and said in a hushed tone, "Do you think she heard us?" Mitchel's appealing eyes were expressionless at the moment. Obviously, he wasn't paying attention to what Luis was saying. To Mitchel, Raegan had always been docile and never felt jealous of anyone. Her strict obedience was all Mitchel demanded from her in exchange for treating her well. In the elevator. Raegan held her breath just to hold back her tears. Unfortunately, it didn't work. She had thought two years would be enough for Mitchel to realize how much she loved him and reciprocate her love. Now, it turned out that was just a pipe dream. She realized she would always play second fiddle to Lauren, Mitchel's true love. Reagan wiped her tears when the elevator halted. Save for her pale face, she looked normal when the doors opened. She dragged herself to the break room, intending to make herself a cup of tea. Several employees were chatting inside. "Guys, have you heard? Lauren Murray is back." "And who is that?" "Oh, my! You don't know her? Lauren is the heiress of the Murray Group as well as a world-class designer. Most importantly, she's the only girlfriend Mr. Dixon has ever shown off in public. She's his first love!" "Why is her return such a big deal? Isn't it rumored that there is something between Mr. Dixon and Raegan?" "Raegan? She's nothing to Mr. Dixon. Mr. Dixon never admitted that he was dating her. And that is no surprise to me. After all, look at her. She's not even that beautiful. Yet, she behaves as if she's already Mrs. Dixon. What a fool!" Standing at the door, Raegan smiled with self-mockery as she listened to them. It turned out everyone else saw the truth except her. The love was one-sided. "Ha-ha, have you finally woken up from your wild dream, Raegan?" A voice of mockery suddenly came from behind. Raegan turned around to see Tessa Lloyd, Mitchel's cousin, who had always despised her. Tessa must have also heard the employees gossiping. The last thing Raegan wanted to do now was argue with Tessa in the company. She turned to leave, but Tessa blocked her way. With a cup of coffee in her hand, Tessa uttered sarcastically, "Lauren is back now. Do you think Mitchel will still give you any attention?" Raegan said nothing to that. Seconds later, Tessa continued the ridicule. "Maybe it’s time for you to seek out another man, you pathetic fool." Raegan clenched her fists and said coldly, "Ms. Lloyd, if you are interested in that kind of thing, feel free to pursue it yourself." "You..." Raegan's retort made Tessa's face change. The next second, Tessa raised her hand and emptied the cup of coffee on Raegan. Raegan didn't think for a second that Tessa would do something so crazy. She held up her arms just to block the liquid from her face. In no time, the coffee drenched her clothes. Raegan frowned. "What did you do that for? Are you out of your mind?" It was lunch break and many employees were free to watch the drama. Tessa was even more complacent when she saw growing onlookers. She put on a mean-girl look as she said, "What makes you so smug every day, huh? Do you seriously think that others don't know you are just an orphan? The nerve of..." Tessa was silenced by Raegan’s shove. Her jaw dropped to the floor. She had never expected that Raegan, who was so quiet and timid, would shove her. Tessa stuttered, "You... You pushed me? How dare you!" Raegan eyed her and replied, "Yes, I did! It seems you need to be taught simple politeness." Indeed, she lost her parents when she was a child. But that didn't mean she would allow someone to walk over her for it. Wrinkles appeared on Tessa's face as she frowned in anger. As Mitchel's cousin, she was used to being fawned over and respected. This was the first time she had been treated like this. Tessa charged at Raegan like a raging bull, poised to retaliate. This time, Raegan was fully prepared for what was coming. She grabbed Tessa's wrist so that the latter couldn't move another inch. Tessa was shorter than Raegan. As a result, she struggled like an octopus that had one of its tentacles stuck in a fishing trap. Tessa cursed angrily, "How dare you put your hands on me? Who do you think you are?" These harsh words attracted more people to the break room. "That's enough!" Out of the blue, a baritone came from behind. Mitchel had left his office and ran into this hullabaloo. The entire room fell silent. "Mitchel?" Tessa's blood ran cold at the sight of Mitchel. She had always been scared of him. Her mother also warned her against provoking him. But when she remembered that Raegan humiliated her, she put on a pitiful expression and sobbed. "Mitchel, she bullied me." The sunlight from outside fell on Mitchel's handsome face. Raegan felt so grieved all of a sudden, and lowered her head to look at her clothes which were soaked with coffee. Their gaze met in the air. With a deep frown, Mitchel looked at Raegan and said, "Raegan, have you forgotten the rules of the company?" His ruthlessness made Raegan's breathing cease. She couldn't believe her ears. No one dared to make a sound at this moment. Raegan just stood straight there with her slender figure. When she got employed here, Mitchel had told her that the Dixon Group wasn't a place for her to mess around and that he would not tolerate her making any mistakes. Raegan could understand why he took this stand. However, at this moment, she was desperate to know whether Mitchel had heard those hard words Tessa scolded her or he was just pretending not to have heard because he agreed to those words. Was she truly insignificant to him? Scared to death by Mitchel's rage, the crowd soon dispersed. A few employees were bold enough to peep from a distance, unwilling to miss the good show. Mitchel's cold eyes made Raegan shiver from head to toe. Raegan pinched her palm to suppress her emotions as she looked at Tessa. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lloyd. As an employee of the Dixon Group, it was wrong of me to have offended you." Eyeing Raegan, Tessa raised her chin complacently. "Humph! Don't think you'll be let off the hook just by making a simple apology. I don't buy..." "The offence has nothing to do with the company. Personally, I refuse to apologize to you. Now, if you'd excuse me," Raegan chimed in. She then walked past Mitchel without sparing him another look. "You..." Tessa's face turned blue after hearing what Raegan said. Never in her years of being alive had she been so humiliated. She was always the bully, not the victim! The humiliation was so much that scolding Raegan wouldn't appease her anger. Pointing in Raegan's direction, Tessa shouted, "Mitchel, did you hear what that woman just said? She humiliated me, yet she's still so arrogant. Call her back. I have to teach her some manners!" Mitchel, staring at Raegan's thin back, had an ambiguous expression at this moment. "Enough!" he said coldly, raising his hand. As someone who lived and breathed drama and cruelty, Tessa didn't think Mitchel was partial to Raegan just now. She assumed that Mitchel didn't care about Raegan at all. Tessa gritted her teeth and said viciously, "Next time, I'll get someone to teach her a lesson." "Tessa!" Mitchel's tone and squint made it a reproof. Tessa trembled at once. With a somber face, Mitchel said, "I'll only say it once. Forget about what happened here today. Leave Raegan alone." The aura he exuded made her tongue go dry. All the vicious ideas she had in store against Raegan disappeared in an instant. She stammered, "Ok... Okay, got it..." Mitchel cast a cold glance at her and spoke to Matteo. "Irrelevant people wouldn't be allowed in here from today onwards." Without catching the drift, Tessa flattered Mitchel. "Nice call. This is a top company. Not everyone gains access in here." Matteo nodded to Mitchel and then walked over to Tessa. He gestured to the exit. "Ms. Lloyd, this way, please." It wasn't until this moment that Tessa realized that she was the irrelevant person Mitchel just mentioned. She tried to speak to him, but Matteo blocked her way. The security guards then escorted her out. They showed her no mercy. Her struggle was useless. Meanwhile, Raegan got changed when she returned to her office. Her heart was filled with sadness as she thought of how Mitchel looked at her minutes ago. Closing hour soon rolled by. Raegan took her bag and headed for the exit. However, Matteo stopped her. He said, "Mr. Dixon has something urgent to deal with, so he asked me to drive you home." Raegan declined the ride without thinking twice. She was blind before, but now she could see through the situation. In Mitchel's eyes, she was just a nobody. How could Mitchel agree to accompany her to visit her grandmother when he didn't even care about her? Upon arriving at the hospital, Raegan saw that the nurse was about to feed her grandmother dinner. Raegan took the job over and did it by herself. All her life, her grandmother had been living in the countryside, enjoying a quiet life. Everything changed last month when her routine medical checkup showed that she was in need of medical care. Raegan insisted on bringing her to the city for better treatment. Her grandmother wasn't aware of her marriage to Mitchel. Raegan had planned to surprise her today. But as it turned out, that was no longer necessary. Raegan waited for her grandmother to fall asleep before she left. She walked out of the hospital and waited for a taxi. In the distance, a black luxury car pulled into the entrance of the hospital. Raegan's eyes lit up when she saw it. She recognized that car as Mitchel's. Did he come to pick her up? At this moment, she forgot all the pain she had been feeling. Were her thoughts about him all wrong? Did he care for her, contrary to the gossip? The door of the driver's side opened and Mitchel got out. Raegan started walking toward him with her heart brimming with joy. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. Mitchel had just walked over to the other side and carried a woman out of the car. Worry and compassion were written all over his handsome face. This wiped the smile on Raegan's face. Her heart sank. Chapter 3 Let's Divorce Mitchel's tall and straight figure got closer and closer to Raegan. And then, without saying a word, he strode past Raegan. It was hard to tell if Mitchel saw Raegan or just ignored her. Regardless, Raegan noticed that the woman in his arms was the same one who had been photographed with him yesterday. She was Lauren. Raegan's shoes felt like they were made of lead as she walked away. She lost all awareness of her surroundings. She got into a taxi absentmindedly. Suddenly, the driver uttered, "Ma'am, where to?" Raegan was stunned for a moment. She didn't want to go back to Serenity Villas. It was only a matter of time before that place stopped being her home. After a while, she replied, "Please take me to Crystal Bay." She had purchased an apartment at Crystal Bay after getting married to Mitchel. At the time, she had hopes of bringing her grandmother to the city, so she bought the apartment on mortgage. It wasn't that big, but it had more than enough space for two people. Mitchel didn't understand why she wanted to buy an apartment. He offered to give her a bigger one, but she declined. Looking back now, she realized that buying that apartment was the only wise decision she had ever made in the last two years. When she arrived at the apartment complex, Raegan sat in the park alone, trying to cool herself down. The memories of the past two years were bittersweet. Two years had passed in the blink of an eye even though it was more than seven hundred days and nights. Love could move mountains, they said. Yet, her love didn't move that stone of a man. She finally realized what a fool she had been. She had been making herself a laughingstock in front of everyone. It was already late in the night before Raegan finally decided to go into her apartment. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she saw Mitchel standing in front of the door. His sleeves were rolled up casually, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, which revealed his long neck and part of his collarbone. He was leaning on the wall by the door, his handsome face straight. Raegan froze for a moment. Why was he here? Didn't she see him at the hospital with Lauren? What brought him here? Their eyes met. With his coat draped over his arm and one of his hands in his pocket, Mitchel squinted at her. "Why didn't you answer the phone?" he asked, sounding a little grumpy like someone who hadn't slept in a long time. Raegan took out her phone and saw she had accidentally put it on DND. There were five missed calls from Mitchel. This marked the first time in their two-year marriage. Mitchel blew up her phone because he couldn't find her? Surprising! Before today, she would have been overjoyed by this. People would've thought she won the lottery. But now, she just threw her phone back into her bag, folded her arms, and said in a hoarse voice, "I didn't hear it ring." Mitchel raised his hand to check the time on the watch, and said impatiently, "I've been looking for you for two hours." After arranging everything for Lauren, he returned home to find an empty house. He looked for Raegan everywhere. When he couldn't find her, he asked Matteo to check the surveillance footage of all the roads that led away from the company. He later found out that Raegan went to Crystal Bay without telling him. "Next time, tell me when you are coming here, okay? Let's go home now." After that, Mitchel walked toward the elevator without sparing her another glance. He meant to go back to Serenity Villas. Raegan didn't move an inch. She just stared at his broad back and pondered reluctantly. Would they have a future? Mitchell turned around, only to see that Raegan hadn't taken a single step. He frowned and asked, "Can't you walk? Do you want me to carry you instead?" The light in the corridor illuminated his face, making his side profile almost impeccable. Raegan took a deep breath and said, "Let's divorce." "What do you mean?" Mitchel's voice was cold, and his handsome face changed immediately. "I want to move into my own place. After all, we will be strangers soon." Raegan forced a smile, but her heart was aching as if someone was tearing it apart bit by bit. "We will be strangers?" Mitchel smiled coldly. "Raegan, what do you think our relationship is now?" His questioning left Raegan stunned for a moment. Mitchel had made it very clear to her from the very beginning. This facade of their marriage had happened by mutual agreement. There was no love. In the eyes of others, they were nothing more than just a superior and a subordinate. Mitchel was quite the catch in Ardlens. Many young ladies longed for his love and were even willing to throw themselves at him. His question just now reminded her of that fact. Was he afraid that she wouldn't let him go that easily? If that was the case, he couldn't be more wrong... After biting her lower lip to conceal her bitterness, Raegan said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon. I was giving it too much thought. Anyway, please leave me alone from now on. You don't have to come here again." After saying that, Raegan couldn't help but burst into tears. How could she not be sad when she was cutting ties with the man she had loved for a decade? It was such a long time. Regardless of how difficult it was, she knew it was time to let go. It was high time she stopped being a fool. Strangely, the light in the corridor began flickering. The deathly stare Mitchel was giving Raegan right now made the atmosphere seem like the moment before an attack in a horror movie. Although he understood that Raegan sometimes could throw a tantrum, he felt that she had just crossed the line now. His eyes shone like blazing torches at this moment. But when he saw the tears in her eyes, the rage inside him extinguished in an instant. He said in a low voice, "If this is about what happened between you and Tessa, I..." "No, this isn't about her. Mr. Dixon, please leave now." A lot of things happened between them. And the incident with Tessa didn't come close to any. Raegan felt exhausted. She passed by Mitchel and was about to open the door. Yet, Mitchel was displeased with her stubbornness. He loosened his tie irritably. He then took a step forward and grabbed her wrist. "Stop this, will you?" A second later, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his arms. He instantly realized that she was burning up like someone who had been set on fire. "You have a fever?" Raegan felt dizzy. She rested her head on his chest weakly. This made the whole situation complicated. Reagan was slow to catch that. When she finally realized that her body was too close to his, she put her hands against his chest and tried to pull back. Before she could escape, Mitchel pulled her back and held her by the waist. With a cold face, he said in a low voice, "Where do you think you are going?" The light flickered again. Out of the blue, Mitchel lifted her up. He then headed for the elevator. In a daze, Raegan asked softly, "What are you doing?" "What does it look like I am doing?" Mitchel remarked. "Taking you to the hospital, of course." "No way!" Raegan cried out in surprise and seemed to regain more strength. Mitchel might find out about her condition if they went to the hospital. Raegan struggled to get out of Mitchel's arms. However, his tight grip made her efforts fruitless. "Don't be so stubborn. You are sick, so you must see the doctor," Mitchel said firmly. He walked to the elevator with her in his arms. At this moment, Raegan's heart was thumping so hard that it could jump out of her chest. She flailed in protest. "Put me down! I don't want to go to the hospital!" &40& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-e Lera reading 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.moboreader.net IMAGE https://fbweb.moboreader.net/46526322-fb_contact-enj57-1125-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&rawadid=120216748271620091 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465302465_1069592154444534_3731911541260454571_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5pp63S7ITdwQ7kNvgH_GNJt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AAaB7joY46gebSO6HLsFiOo&oh=00_AYCrAjKELI-3Y7Ll9ZOjVzGiYbWk4m89EFd_9eu6A7D1kw&oe=6745C984 REGULAR_PAGE 0 0 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Continuer la lecture AprĂšs trois ans de mariage, son mari rentrait rarement Ă  la maison. Le seul moment d'intimitĂ© partagĂ© Ă©tait pour complaire aux aĂźnĂ©s. Le jour de l'accouchement difficile, il est parti Ă  l'Ă©tranger en avion privĂ© avec sa maĂźtresse. DĂ©vastĂ©e, elle a dĂ©cidĂ© de divorcer! ===== Joelle Miller a consultĂ© le compte Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, Ă©tudiant chaque vidĂ©o avec une attention particuliĂšre, Ă©tait impatiente de voir le visage du petit ami de Rebecca. Rebecca, la fille des clips, dĂ©gageait une aura douce et dĂ©licate dans sa simple robe blanche. Elle n'Ă©tait pas trĂšs belle, mais elle dĂ©gageait une simplicitĂ© saine et son sourire Ă©tait vraiment charmant. Elle a dĂ©couvert que pendant les jours cruciaux, la veille de NoĂ«l, la Saint-Valentin et mĂȘme l'anniversaire de Joelle, Rebecca Ă©tait avec Adrian Miller, le soi-disant mari de Joelle, qui avait disparu de tous les Ă©vĂ©nements importants au cours des trois derniĂšres annĂ©es. Les rĂ©cits joyeux de Rebecca et les bribes de sa vie avec son petit ami suffisaient parfaitement Ă  plonger Joelle dans la morositĂ©. « Est-ce que tu vois ça? Il garde la tranche de pastĂšque la plus juteuse rien que pour moi. » « MĂȘme en rentrant tard, il n'oublie jamais de m'apporter un petit quelque chose. » « Et regarde ça, quelle surprise!Il est allĂ© chercher un porte-bonheur pour moi Ă  l'Ă©glise. » ...... Le nom d'utilisateur du compte Ă©tait « Compte Ă  Rebours Ă  la Mort », le seul compte que Joelle suivait. Au moment oĂč elle allait rĂ©flĂ©chir Ă  ce nom inquiĂ©tant, la porte de la salle de bains s'est ouverte. Dans la piĂšce faiblement Ă©clairĂ©e, Adrian est apparu. Des gouttes d'eau coulaient de ses cheveux. MalgrĂ© la lumiĂšre tamisĂ©e, ses traits frappants n'Ă©taient pas altĂ©rĂ©s. Joelle a instinctivement Ă©teint son tĂ©lĂ©phone et l'a regardĂ©, perdue dans ses pensĂ©es. Cela faisait une Ă©ternitĂ© qu'elle n'avait pas vu Adrian. Ce soir, il Ă©tait lĂ  bien malgrĂ© lui. Sa grand-mĂšre, Irene Miller, Ă©tait malade et cherchait dĂ©sespĂ©rĂ©ment un arriĂšre-petit-enfant, ce qui obligeait le jeune homme Ă  revenir. Sans cela, il ne serait peut-ĂȘtre jamais revenu. Au cours de leurs trois annĂ©es de mariage, Adrian rentrait rarement Ă  la maison et passait le plus clair de son temps dans les Villas d'Oak. Il Ă©tait de notoriĂ©tĂ© publique qu'il n'aimait pas Joelle. Elle se sentait prise au piĂšge d'un mariage qui n'existait que de nom. « Je te donne une seule chance. Que tu tombes e**einte ou non est entre les mains du destin », a dĂ©clarĂ© Adrian, sa voix rĂ©sonnante et profonde. Qu'insinuait-il? Avant que Joelle ne puisse rĂ©flĂ©chir davantage, Adrian lui a saisi la cheville et l'a tirĂ©e vers lui. Joelle a pĂąli face Ă  sa cruautĂ©, son corps s'Ă©tant crispĂ© sous l'effet de la peur. « Adrian!ArrĂȘte, je ne veux pas... » Ses paroles ont Ă©tĂ© interrompues par ses propres luttes frĂ©nĂ©tiques. Se retrouver dans une telle situation avec l'homme qu'elle aimait la remplissait d'humiliation et de terreur. Le rictus d'Adrian a traversĂ© l'air. « Tu as osĂ© me d*oguer une fois, tu aurais dĂ» voir venir ce jour. Tu n'as qu'Ă  l'endurer. » À ses mots durs, les yeux de Joelle se sont remplis de larmes, ses cils s'agitant comme des papillons blessĂ©s. Elle a levĂ© les yeux vers son visage sĂ©vĂšre, la voix tremblante. « Les choses ne sont pas ce que vous pensez...» Sa protestation a Ă©tĂ© interrompue. Sa rĂ©sistance s'affaiblissant tandis que le dĂ©sespoir prenait le dessus. Elle est restĂ©e allongĂ©e, souhaitant oublier tout ce qui se passait. « Tu as appris qu'il est bien plus intĂ©ressant de jouer les durs Ă  cuire que de rester allongĂ© comme un poisson mort », a-t-il Ă©ructĂ©, la voix teintĂ©e de mĂ©chancetĂ©. AprĂšs sa douche, il est parti sans un regard en arriĂšre. Avant et aprĂšs, Il prenait des douches rituelles comme si elle Ă©tait une tache sur sa conscience. Joelle avait du mal Ă  comprendre le rĂŽle qu'elle jouait dans la vie d'Adrian. Était-elle un simple jouet pour? Ou un outil satisfaire les attentes de sa famille en matiĂšre d'hĂ©ritier? La fenĂȘtre Ă©tait grandement ouverte, laissant entrer un vent froid et mordant. Joelle a frissonnĂ©, resserrant la couverture autour d'elle. Ce n'Ă©tait pas seulement le froid qui la faisait trembler. Elle avait l'impression que son cƓur avait Ă©tĂ© dĂ©chirĂ©, qu'un vent glacial s'Ă©tait engouffrĂ© dans sa plaie ouverte. L'homme qu'elle aimait tant depuis prĂšs de huit ans lui Ă©tait dĂ©sormais Ă©tranger. Trois ans plus tĂŽt, lors d'un somptueux banquet organisĂ© par la famille Miller, Joelle avait trop bu. À son rĂ©veil, elle s'Ă©tait avec Adrian. Avant qu'elle n'ait pu reprendre ses esprits, son frĂšre et plusieurs membres de la famille Miller avaient fait irruption. Ce qui avait Ă©tĂ© fait Ă©tait irrĂ©versible. La grand-mĂšre d'Adrian avait pris les rĂȘnes et avait arrangĂ© leur mariage. Pendant tout ce temps, Adrian Ă©tait persuadĂ© que Joelle le piĂ©ger. Joelle avait dĂ©jĂ  Ă©tĂ© dĂ©concertĂ©e par la profonde animositĂ© d'Adrian, mĂȘme s'il croyait qu'elle l'avait d**guĂ©. AprĂšs tout, ils avaient tous les deux grandi ensemble. Mais Ă  prĂ©sent, elle a compris. Aux yeux d'Adrian, elle n'Ă©tait rien d'autre que l'infĂąme femme qui avait sabotĂ© sa relation avec Rebecca. Elle se surprenait souvent Ă  penser Ă  un Adrian qui semblait parfait dans les vidĂ©os de Rebecca, toujours si doux et attentif. Elle s'est rendu compte qu'il ne lui montrerait probablement jamais la mĂȘme tendresse. Finalement, Joelle a succombĂ© Ă  une crise de sanglots. Cette nuit-lĂ , son sommeil a Ă©tĂ© agitĂ© et perturbĂ©. Dans les derniĂšres heures, elle se surprenait Ă  rĂȘver de l'Ă©poque oĂč Adrian et elle n'Ă©taient pas en conflit. RĂ©veillĂ©e par son sommeil agitĂ©, Joelle s'est levĂ©e inhabituellement tĂŽt. AprĂšs s'ĂȘtre rafraĂźchie, elle a enfilĂ© une tenue dĂ©contractĂ©e et s'est rendue au rez-de-chaussĂ©e. Leah Jenkins, la femme de chambre de longue date, a remarquĂ© la descente de Joelle et s'est empressĂ©e de mettre la table pour le petit-dĂ©jeuner, connaissant toutes ses prĂ©fĂ©rences alimentaires. Joelle a pris son temps, mangeant lentement et de maniĂšre dĂ©libĂ©rĂ©e. « Mme Miller, pourquoi n'avez-vous pas convaincu M. Miller de rester la nuit derniĂšre? Ce n'est pas souvent qu'il rentre Ă  la maison », a commentĂ© Leah, son ton reflĂ©tant la sympathie qu'elle Ă©prouvait Ă  l'Ă©gard de Joelle. Leah Ă©tait au service de la famille Miller depuis de nombreuses annĂ©es, et avait vu Joelle et Adrian passer du statut d'amis d'enfance Ă  celui d'ennemis. Une pointe de gĂȘne a briĂšvement traversĂ© les traits de Joelle pour ensuite ĂȘtre masquĂ©e par un sourire serein. « J'ai essayĂ©, mais il a refusĂ© », a-t-elle rĂ©pondu. Il avait le cƓur ailleurs. Ses sentiments se portaient sur les Villas d'Oak, oĂč vivait celle qu'il chĂ©rissait vraiment. Leah a hĂ©sitĂ© avant de reprendre la parole, le ton prudent. « C'est peut-ĂȘtre parce que M. Miller est trĂšs impliquĂ© dans l'entreprise. La gestion d'une entreprise aussi importante lui prend beaucoup de temps. » AprĂšs avoir Ă©tĂ© rĂ©affectĂ©e aux soins de Joelle trois ans plus tĂŽt, Leah en Ă©tait venue Ă  comprendre les nuances de ce mariage mieux que quiconque. Sa perspicacitĂ© s'accompagnait d'une sympathie sincĂšre pour Joelle. Les cils de la jeune femme frĂ©missaient pendant qu'elle grignotait sa tartine, ses yeux larmoyant lĂ©gĂšrement sous le coup de l'Ă©motion. Oui, Adrian Ă©tait trĂšs occupĂ©, mais il prenait toujours le temps de s'occuper de Rebecca. Il frĂ©quentait la CathĂ©drale du Salut pour lui demander un charme de bĂ©nĂ©diction. MalgrĂ© son emploi du temps chargĂ©, il ne ratait jamais les vacances avec elle. À ce moment-lĂ , le tĂ©lĂ©phone de Joelle a rompu le silence. Alors que Leah quittait la salle Ă  manger, Joelle a dĂ©crochĂ© l'appel de sa meilleure amie, Katherine Nash. « Katherine, je veux divorcer », a dit Joelle d'une voix rauque. Chapitre 2 Être dĂ©sormais condamnĂ©e dĂ©finitivement Joelle a pris la dĂ©cision de divorcer. Il n'y avait aucune raison de faire traĂźner les choses plus longtemps. AprĂšs un moment de silence stupĂ©fait, Katherine a Ă©clatĂ© d'un rire strident. « Tu vas avoir la moitiĂ© des biens d'Adrian? Oh, mon Dieu!Joelle, tu vas devenir milliardaire!» « Je ne peux pas. » En effet, Joelle avait signĂ© un accord lorsqu'elle et Adrian s'Ă©taient mariĂ©s. S'ils divorçaient, elle n'aurait rien. « Alors pourquoi tu veux divorcer, bon sang? Continue Ă  ĂȘtre sa femme!» Joelle se souvenait de la rudesse d'Adrian la nuit prĂ©cĂ©dente et de l'humiliation qui s'en Ă©tait suivie. Par le passĂ©, elle avait Ă©tĂ© si naĂŻve, croyant que son amour pour Adrian pouvait l'aider Ă  supporter n'importe quelle Ă©preuve. Mais aujourd'hui, en regardant en arriĂšre, elle s'est rendu compte Ă  quel point elle avait Ă©tĂ© stupide. Adrian l'aimait-il davantage Ă  cause de la souffrance? La rĂ©ponse Ă©tait tout simplement non. Un homme qui l'aimait vraiment ne l'aurait jamais laissĂ©e souffrir. Joelle s'est moquĂ©e d'elle-mĂȘme et a changĂ© de sujet. « Au fait, tu te souviens du service que je t'ai demandĂ© la derniĂšre fois? » « Oui. J'allais t'en parler. Tu m'as demandĂ© d'ĂȘtre Ă  l'affĂ»t d'un emploi, et j'ai quelque chose pour toi. Tu apprendras Ă  jouer du violon Ă  un Ă©lĂšve, mais je dois dire que ce sera un gaspillage de ton talent. » « Ce n'est pas grave », a rĂ©pondu Joelle avec un lĂ©ger sourire. « Ce n'est pas du tout un gĂąchis. J'ai Ă©tĂ© femme au foyer pendant trois ans. Il suffit que quelqu'un veuille bien m'embaucher. » « En quoi ce n'est pas un gĂąchis? Tu Ă©tais si prĂšs de faire partie d'un orchestre international. Si tu ne t'Ă©tais pas mariĂ©e... », s'est interrompue Katherine, se sentant indignĂ©e pour son amie. AprĂšs son mariage, Joelle n'avait mĂȘme plus le droit de travailler. Ces familles riches s'accrochaient Ă  des rĂšgles aussi dĂ©suĂštes. Toute cette situation Ă©tait ridicule. Trois ans plus tĂŽt, la carriĂšre de violoniste de Joelle Ă©tait en plein essor. Cependant, les traditions strictes de la famille Miller lui interdisaient de jouer en public. Le premier jour de son mariage, la mĂšre d'Adrian lui avait bien dit : « Tu n'as pas besoin de travailler. Adrian subviendra Ă  tes besoins. Ton travail consistera Ă  donner naissance Ă  ses enfants et Ă  prendre soin de ton mari. » AprĂšs son appel avec Katherine, Joelle est montĂ©e Ă  l'Ă©tage et a rĂ©cupĂ©rĂ© son violon, longtemps nĂ©gligĂ©, dans le bureau. C'Ă©tait un cadeau spĂ©cial de son pĂšre pour son dix-huitiĂšme anniversaire. Tragiquement, peu de temps aprĂšs l'avoir reçu, son pĂšre avait Ă©tĂ© victime d'une attaque cĂ©rĂ©brale et Ă©tait tombĂ© dans le coma. Son frĂšre aĂźnĂ© s'Ă©tait chargĂ© de subvenir aux besoins de la famille. Il l'avait laissĂ©e poursuivre son rĂȘve de jouer du violon sans s'inquiĂ©ter. Tout en se remĂ©morant le passĂ©, Joelle a tirĂ© l'archet sur les cordes. Des annĂ©es en arriĂšre, un accident l'avait blessĂ©e au poignet et elle n'avait plus jouĂ© depuis ce temps. Aujourd'hui, alors qu'elle jouait, une douleur aiguĂ« lui a traversĂ© le poignet, mais elle a persistĂ©. Elle s'est appuyĂ©e sur sa mĂ©moire musculaire pour jouer un court morceau. À la fin, elle a Ă©clatĂ© d'un rire amer. Le son Ă©tait terrible. Juste Ă  ce moment-lĂ , elle a entendu la voix de Leah Ă  la porte, remplie de surprise et de joie. « Monsieur, vous ĂȘtes rentrĂ©!» Leah Ă©tait intĂ©rieurement contente de voir Adrian. Son retour Ă  la maison devait signifier qu'il tenait toujours Ă  Joelle. Si Joelle lui disait quelque chose de gentil, leur relation pourrait peut-ĂȘtre s'amĂ©liorer. Pendant ce temps, Joelle Ă©tait surprise. Adrian rentrait rarement Ă  la maison dans la journĂ©e. Elle venait de poser son violon lorsque la porte s'est ouverte. Adrian se tenait dans l'embrasure de la porte, sa grande taille imposante. Les sourcils froncĂ©s, il l'a regardĂ©e. Il se souvenait que Joelle avait appris Ă  jouer du violon lorsqu'elle Ă©tait enfant et qu'elle avait Ă©tĂ© fĂ©licitĂ©e pour son talent par un professeur renommĂ©. Mais pour une raison ou une autre, elle avait cessĂ© de jouer. Ayant Ă©coutĂ© de l'extĂ©rieur tout Ă  l'heure, il avait trouvĂ© son jeu mĂ©diocre. Comment pourrait-on avoir louĂ© son talent? Joelle lui a jetĂ© un coup d'Ɠil et a baissĂ© la tĂȘte pour replacer le violon dans son Ă©tui. Elle a alors demandĂ© Ă  voix basse : « Qu'est-ce qui t'amĂšne ici? Tu as besoin de quelque chose? » « Je suis venu chercher quelque chose et te rappeler que nous devons rendre visite Ă  grand-mĂšre demain », a rĂ©pondu Adrian d'un ton froid. Rendre visite Ă  sa grand-mĂšre au moins une fois par mois Ă©tait une obligation familiale. Demain, c'Ă©tait ce jour-lĂ . Sans cette obligation, Adrian ne serait pas du tout revenu. Si Joelle et lui ne se prĂ©sentaient pas ensemble, Irene serait contrariĂ©e. Joelle a souri avec amertume. Elle se souvenait des principes de la famille Miller mieux qu'Adrian et les avait toujours respectĂ©s. MĂȘme Irene, toujours aussi stricte, ne pouvait pas lui reprocher quoi que ce soit. « Je n'ai pas oubliĂ©. Je suis soulagĂ©e de savoir que tu ne l'as pas oubliĂ© non plus », a rĂ©pondu Joelle. Il y avait dans son ton une pointe d'accusation qui faisait ricaner Adrian. L'espace d'un instant, il a ressenti une colĂšre qui couvait en lui. Sans un mot de plus, il s'est dirigĂ© directement vers la garde-robe pour y chercher quelque chose. MĂȘme s'il ne rentrait que rarement Ă  la maison, Joelle entretenait mĂ©ticuleusement sa garde-robe, avec des vĂȘtements lavĂ©s, repassĂ©s et bien rangĂ©s. Joelle avait l'impression que son rĂŽle se rĂ©duisait aux tĂąches mĂ©nagĂšres, ce que Leah pouvait Ă©galement faire. Son seul avantage, peut-ĂȘtre, Ă©tait qu'elle Ă©tait plus jeune et plus jolie que Leah. Ses yeux ont suivi les mouvements d'Adrian. L'annulaire de celui-ci Ă©tait nu ; il n'y avait pas d'alliance. Une vive douleur lui a traversĂ© le cƓur. « Adrian, divorçons », a dit soudain Joelle, la voix aussi douce qu'une brise. Prononcer ces mots l'a vidĂ©e de toutes ses forces, mais elle a senti un Ă©trange soulagement l'envahir. Adrian s'est retournĂ© et l'a regardĂ©e avec un sourire moqueur. « RĂ©flĂ©chis bien avant de parler. La famille Watson est dĂ©sormais condamnĂ©e dĂ©finitivement. Sans mon soutien, comptes-tu dormir dans la rue avec ton frĂšre aprĂšs le divorce? » Depuis la chute de la famille Watson, Joelle Ă©tait passĂ©e du statut de fille choyĂ©e Ă  celui de Mme Miller ridiculisĂ©e. La famille Miller la dĂ©testait et la considĂ©rait comme si elle et son frĂšre Ă©taient des sangsues dont ils ne pouvaient se dĂ©barrasser. MĂȘme ses moments d'intimitĂ© avec Adrian lui donnaient l'impression d'ĂȘtre dĂ©gradĂ©e. Joelle s'est mordu la lĂšvre et s'est redressĂ©e. « J'ai dĂ©jĂ  louĂ© un appartement. MĂȘme si je finissais par dormir dans la rue, ce serait de ma faute. » Tout ce qu'elle voulait, c'Ă©tait qu'Adrian la respecte, mais trois ans de captivitĂ© avaient usĂ© sa fiertĂ© et sa dignitĂ©. « Et oĂč as-tu trouvĂ© l'argent pour louer un appartement? Si tu voulais tant ĂȘtre indĂ©pendante, tu n'aurais pas dĂ» dĂ©penser un seul centime de la famille Miller. » Adrian, dos Ă  Joelle, a retrouvĂ© l'alliance perdue dans un interstice et l'a tenue dans sa paume. Joelle n'a rien remarquĂ©. Les paroles qu'il prononçait la laissaient de marbre. Oui, elle avait dĂ©pensĂ© ses maigres Ă©conomies pour louer l'appartement. Mais depuis qu'elle Ă©tait mariĂ©e Ă  Adrien, ce qui Ă©tait Ă  elle n'Ă©tait-il pas aussi Ă  lui? De plus, le soutien financier qu'Adrian avait apportĂ© Ă  la famille Watson au fil des ans reprĂ©sentait une somme importante. Joelle avait toujours dĂ©testĂ© l'idĂ©e de devoir quoi que ce soit Ă  Adrian, mais sa dette envers lui Ă©tait la plus importante. S'ils divorçaient, il cesserait probablement tout soutien financier Ă  la famille Watson. Voulait-il dire qu'elle devrait quitter le mariage les mains vides? Alors qu'Adrian se retournait pour partir, Joelle l'a interpellĂ©, sa dignitĂ© Ă  peine intacte. « Je suis lĂ©galement habilitĂ©e Ă  contracter ce mariage et j'ai un droit lĂ©gitime sur ce qui est censĂ© m'appartenir. Mais ne t'inquiĂšte pas, je ne te demanderai pas grand-chose, juste ce qu'il faut pour aider le Groupe Watson Ă  traverser cette crise. » Adrian s'est figĂ©, ses traits s'Ă©tant affinĂ©s. Ses lĂšvres se sont plissĂ©es en une fine ligne et sa mĂąchoire s'est serrĂ©e. C'Ă©taient des signes Ă©vidents de sa colĂšre naissante. MĂȘme si Joelle s'Ă©tait mentalement prĂ©parĂ©e, elle n'avait pas pu rĂ©sister Ă  l'intensitĂ© de sa rage. Chaque instant passĂ© sous le regard sĂ©vĂšre du jeune homme intensifiait son angoisse. À ce moment-lĂ , le tĂ©lĂ©phone d'Adrian a sonnĂ©. Il l'a sorti de sa poche et a commencĂ© Ă  s'Ă©loigner. « Adrian!» Chapitre 3 Je ferai toujours bonne figure La frustration d'Adrian crĂ©pitait comme de l'Ă©lectricitĂ© statique dans l'air. « Si ton frĂšre a besoin d'argent, dis-lui d'aller directement au Groupe Miller. » « Ce n'est pas de ça qu'il s'agit!», a rĂ©torquĂ© Joelle. Il ne l'a pas comprise du tout. Joelle l'a poursuivi Ă  toute allure, le cƓur battant d'urgence. « Adrian, je veux divorcer!» À ces mots, Adrian s'est arrĂȘtĂ© et a tournĂ© la tĂȘte ; le tĂ©lĂ©phone qu'il tenait Ă  la main s'est tu lui aussi. Du haut de son un mĂštre quatre-vingt-dix, Adrian dominait pysiquement Joelle. Il avait un regard froid et lorsqu'il a parlĂ©, sa voix Ă©tait empreinte de moquerie. « Joelle, tu ne peux pas trouver un meilleur jeu que ces incessantes discussions? Si tu veux vraiment divorcer, pourquoi ne pas le dire toi-mĂȘme Ă  grand-mĂšre? Sinon, que je n'entende plus jamais ce mot de ta bouche!» La porte s'est refermĂ©e derriĂšre lui, le bruit de la fin rĂ©sonnant. Joelle s'est adossĂ©e au mur, ses jambes se dĂ©robant sous elle jusqu'Ă  ce qu'elle glisse sur le sol. Un rire amer s'est Ă©chappĂ© de ses lĂšvres. Leur mariage avait Ă©tĂ© arrangĂ© par Irene. Adrian y avait Ă©tĂ© forcĂ©, et Joelle le savait trĂšs bien. Si elle voulait vraiment divorcer, elle savait que parler Ă  Irene serait la solution la plus efficace. Mais une petite partie stupide d'elle-mĂȘme s'Ă©tait agrippĂ©e Ă  l'espoir qu'Adrian et elle formaient un vrai couple. Elle avait donc abordĂ© le sujet avec lui en premier car elle le considĂ©rait comme son mari. Mais elle avait oubliĂ© un dĂ©tail crucial ; Adrian n'avait jamais voulu se marier avec elle. Son refus avait Ă©tĂ© manifeste dĂšs le dĂ©but, mĂȘme si elle avait essayĂ© de l'ignorer. Les derniers mots qu'il lui avait adressĂ©s n'Ă©taient pas seulement dĂ©daigneux, mais c'Ă©tait un ordre. Si elle Ă©tait sĂ©rieuse, elle devait affronter Irene elle-mĂȘme. Ainsi, aprĂšs avoir pris une douche, Joelle s'est habillĂ©e de vĂȘtements neufs et s'est prĂ©parĂ©e Ă  rendre visite Ă  Irene. Irene Ă©tait une femme stricte, autoritaire et crainte par toute la famille. Elle rĂ©gnait d'une main de fer et la dĂ©sobĂ©issance n'Ă©tait pas tolĂ©rĂ©e. Mais Joelle partageait un lien unique avec elle. Si Joelle avait acceptĂ© d'Ă©pouser Adrian, c'Ă©tait en partie pour rĂ©pondre aux attentes d'Irene. Elle avait voulu s'occuper d'Adrian, construire un foyer et faire en sorte qu'Irene puisse mourir sans regret. Mais Ă  prĂ©sent, elle ne pouvait plus tenir plus longtemps. Regarder Adrian prodiguer son attention Ă  une autre femme emplissait Joelle d'une vague d'amertume qui menaçait de la consumer. Elle savait bien qu'Adrian ne l'aimait pas. Il ne l'avait jamais aimĂ©e et ne l'aimerait jamais ! Alors qu'elle Ă©tait sur le point de partir, son tĂ©lĂ©phone a sonnĂ©. C'Ă©tait son frĂšre, Shawn Watson, qui l'appelait. « Shawn? Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? » « Mme Miller!» C'Ă©tait l'assistant de Shawn, avec une voix paniquĂ©e, quelque chose que Joelle n'avait jamais entendu auparavant. Elle a frissonnĂ© et a serrĂ© le tĂ©lĂ©phone plus fort alors qu'elle se tenait au bas de l'escalier. « OĂč est Shawn? Que lui est-il arrivĂ©? » « Hier soir, M. Watson a assistĂ© Ă  une rĂ©union d'affaires au cours de laquelle on l'a poussĂ© Ă  b*ire trop. Il Ă©tait censĂ© rentrer chez lui, mais Erick Lloyd a insistĂ© pour l'emmener dans une station thermale. » Joelle s'est figĂ©e, la fureur dĂ©ferlant. « Erick ne savait pas que cela pouvait le tuer? » « Erick est un vĂ©ritable poison!Il a toujours cherchĂ© Ă  se faire remarquer depuis que son pĂšre et son frĂšre sont devenus les chauffeurs de la famille Miller. Mme Miller, vous devez venir rapidement!M. Watson est toujours au bloc opĂ©ratoire, et les mĂ©decins ont Ă©mis deux avis d'Ă©tat critique. Je n'ai pas pu tenir plus longtemps avant de vous appeler!» Sa voix s'est brisĂ©e alors qu'il Ă©tait au bord des larmes. Joelle savait qu'il ne l'appellerait pas si la situation n'Ă©tait pas vraiment dĂ©sespĂ©rĂ©e. Shawn l'avait toujours protĂ©gĂ©e des mauvaises nouvelles, peu importe les circonstances. Si son assistant Ă©tait Ă  ce point Ă©branlĂ©, la vie de Shawn Ă©tait sans doute au bord de l'abĂźme. Joelle avait l'impression que le monde se refermait sur elle, sa voix s'Ă©tranglant dans sa gorge. Elle a manquĂ© la derniĂšre marche et a fait une chute brutale, sa cheville se tordant brusquement. La douleur fulgurante l'a ramenĂ©e Ă  la rĂ©alitĂ©, et les larmes lui sont montĂ©es aux yeux. « Oh non!Mme Miller, comment avez-vous pu ne pas faire attention Ă  ce que vous faisiez? » Leah s'est prĂ©cipitĂ©e et a aidĂ© Joelle Ă  se relever. Joelle s'est agrippĂ©e au bras de Leah, sa vision Ă©tant brouillĂ©e par les larmes. Elle a essayĂ© de parler, mais les mots sont sortis Ă©touffĂ©s et brisĂ©s entre les sanglots. « Mon frĂšre... Je dois le voir Ă  l'hĂŽpital!» Sentant l'urgence dans sa voix, Leah n'a pas hĂ©sitĂ©. « TrĂšs bien, ne vous inquiĂ©tez pas. Je vais demander au chauffeur de vous y emmener tout de suite!» Leah Ă©tait une femme de mĂ©nage expĂ©rimentĂ©e et fiable qui travaillait pour la famille Miller depuis des annĂ©es. En moins de cinq minutes, la voiture est arrivĂ©e devant la villa. Alors que Joelle s'apprĂȘtait Ă  monter dans la voiture, elle s'est tournĂ©e vers Leah. « S'il te plaĂźt, n'en parle pas Ă  Irene. Je ne veux pas l'inquiĂ©ter. » Le cƓur de Leah s'est adouci aux paroles de la jeune femme. MĂȘme dans son Ă©tat pĂąle et baignĂ© de larmes, Joelle pensait au bien-ĂȘtre d'Irene. Quelle fille rare et remarquable ! « Ne vous inquiĂ©tez pas, Mme Miller. Je sais ce qu'il faut faire. Allez voir votre frĂšre. » Lorsque Joelle est arrivĂ©e Ă  l'hĂŽpital, Shawn venait tout juste d'ĂȘtre sorti du bloc opĂ©ratoire. Voyant Shawn branchĂ© Ă  des tubes et des fils, l'assistant s'est presque effondrĂ© sur le sol. En s'approchant, Joelle l'a trouvĂ© agenouillĂ© contre le mur en train de prier, les yeux injectĂ©s de sang et creux. Elle s'est abstenue de lui reprocher de ne pas avoir mieux protĂ©gĂ© Shawn. Ils auraient le temps d'en reparler plus tard. Une fois l'Ă©tat de Shawn stabilisĂ©, Joelle a tirĂ© son assistant Ă  part. « Raconte-moi tout ce qui s'est passĂ©. » L'assistant a hĂ©sitĂ©, les traits tirĂ©s par l'inquiĂ©tude. « Mme Miller, M. Watson nous a demandĂ© de ne pas vous impliquer dans les affaires. » « C'est une question de vie ou de mort. Penses-tu encore que me laisser dans l'ignorance est une option? » La patience de Joelle a craquĂ©, et elle s'est retournĂ©e pour s'Ă©loigner. « Mme Miller, c'est inutile. » La voix de l'assistant Ă©tait lourde de dĂ©sespoir. « Depuis le dĂ©cĂšs de votre pĂšre, le Groupe Watson repose entiĂšrement sur les Ă©paules de M. Watson. Il s'est battu pour maintenir la dignitĂ© de la famille afin que votre vie au sein de la famille Miller soit plus facile. » Pendant trois ans, Shawn s'est battu vaillamment pour maintenir la famille Ă  flot. Sans le soutien financier d'Adrian, leurs efforts se seraient effondrĂ©s depuis longtemps. Le souhait le plus profond de Shawn Ă©tait que Joelle vive confortablement, mais malgrĂ© ses efforts acharnĂ©s, il n'a jamais pu lui faire gagner le respect qu'elle mĂ©ritait de la part de son mari. Peu importe les sacrifices de Shawn, Joelle Ă©tait toujours mĂ©prisĂ©e dans la famille Miller. Joelle Ă©tait furieuse, mais elle savait qu'elle ne pouvait pas changer sa rĂ©alitĂ©. Prenant une profonde inspiration, elle a demandĂ© : « As-tu parlĂ© de ma relation avec Adrian? » Elle espĂ©rait que le fait d'ĂȘtre alignĂ©e sur la famille Miller aiderait Shawn Ă  tenir bon. « M. Watson refuse d'en parler. Il a peur que cela ne rende les choses plus difficiles pour vous. » Joelle a laissĂ© Ă©chapper un rire amer. Depuis le dĂ©but, elle n'avait jamais pu se tenir sur un pied d'Ă©galitĂ© avec Adrian. Il n'Ă©tait pas Ă©tonnant qu'il la mĂ©prise, car elle avait du mal Ă  se supporter elle-mĂȘme. Une heure auparavant, elle Ă©tait dĂ©terminĂ©e Ă  demander le divorce. À prĂ©sent, elle s'accrochait au nom d'Adrian, dĂ©sespĂ©rĂ©e de rendre la vie plus facile Ă  Shawn. « Dis Ă  Shawn que je suis la femme d'Adrian Miller, celle qu'Irene a sĂ©lectionnĂ©e. Tant que je serai Mme Miller, je ferai bonne figure dans la famille Miller!» Des pas ont rĂ©sonnĂ© derriĂšre elle. Joelle s'est retournĂ©e et a croisĂ© le regard froid d'Adrian. À ses cĂŽtĂ©s se tenait une jeune fille Ă  l'allure frĂȘle, aux grands yeux innocents, qui s'accrochait ouvertement Ă  Adrian. Le regard de celui-ci sur Joelle Ă©tait empli d'un froid dĂ©dain, comme si le simple fait de reconnaĂźtre sa prĂ©sence Ă©tait un effort. Il avait vu clair dans son jeu ; Joelle ne voulait pas vraiment divorcer. La femme qui avait parlĂ© si rĂ©solument de quitter la maison se tenait maintenant lĂ , exhibant fiĂšrement son titre de Mme Miller. Sa menace de divorcer n'Ă©tait rien d'autre qu'un stratagĂšme, comme une querelle d'amoureux qui se terminait par des menaces vides de sens. Cette femme rusĂ©e l'avait d**guĂ© pour qu'il devienne son mari. Avec des tactiques aussi trompeuses, comment pouvait-elle facilement se dĂ©faire de cette union? Ce mĂȘme mariage servait de bouĂ©e de sauvetage Ă  sa famille en difficultĂ©. Il avait donnĂ© au Groupe Watson une centaine de millions chaque annĂ©e. Joelle serait idiote de risquer de perdre cette somme en divorçant. Chapitre 4 Elle a fini par comprendre Joelle Ă©tait depuis longtemps devenue insensible Ă  l'indiffĂ©rence frileuse d'Adrian. Elle a observĂ© tranquillement leurs bras entrelacĂ©s, ses pensĂ©es dĂ©rivant vers les doux moments capturĂ©s dans les vidĂ©os de Rebecca qui avaient fait beaucoup d'envieux. Quel couple parfait! Cette pensĂ©e a des picotements Joelle. « Joelle, par pitiĂ©, ne te trompe pas!» La voix de Rebecca Ă©tait empreinte d'urgence et elle a rapidement retirĂ© sa main du bras d'Adrian. « Je ne vais pas bien et je ne peux pas marcher bien loin. Adie Ă©tait juste assez gentil pour me soutenir. » Joelle a rĂ©ussi Ă  esquisser un lĂ©ger sourire. « Qu'est-ce qui t'amĂšne Ă  l'hĂŽpital? », a-t-elle demandĂ© Ă  Adrian, ignorant dĂ©libĂ©rĂ©ment l'explication de Rebecca. « C'est Ă  propos d'Erick », est intervenue Rebecca, les mains jointes devant elle comme une enfant repentante. « Je suis aussi venue te prĂ©senter mes excuses, Joelle. DĂ©solĂ©e qu'Erick ait Ă©tĂ© si imprudent et que ton frĂšre se soit retrouvĂ© Ă  l'hĂŽpital. » Joelle a rĂ©torquĂ© : « J'ai bien entendu imprudent? Ton frĂšre a failli t*er le mien, et tu penses que des excuses suffisent Ă  arranger les choses? » Rebecca a tressailli, s'agrippant instinctivement Ă  la manche d'Adrian pour se soutenir. La voix d'Adrian Ă©tait aussi froide que l'hiver lorsqu'il a finalement pris la parole. « Ça suffit, Joelle. Ce n'Ă©tait pas intentionnel. » Il s'est ensuite adressĂ© Ă  Rebecca avec un ton plus doux. « Allons-y. Tu n'es pas lĂ  pour voir Erick? » Une vague de prise de conscience glacĂ©e a envahi Joelle. Elle avait espĂ©rĂ© naĂŻvement qu'Adrian Ă©tait lĂ  pour prendre des nouvelles de Shawn. Mais non, il avait juste accompagnĂ© Rebecca, pour voir Erick. MĂȘme s'il s'arrĂȘtait pour voir Shawn, ce ne serait que par obligation, et cela ne pouvait pas aller plus loin. Elle savait qu'Adrian ne la dĂ©fendrait jamais. « Rebecca, je n'oublierai pas ce qu'Erick a fait!», a dit Joelle. Les jambes de Rebecca se sont dĂ©robĂ©es et elle s'est effondrĂ©e contre la poitrine d'Adrian. Andrian l'a rattrapĂ©e juste Ă  temps. « Joelle, Erick ne voulait pas faire de mal. Il est aussi hospitalisĂ©!» « Il est mort? Si ce n'est pas le cas, il doit payer pour ce qu'il a fait!» Joelle s'emportait rarement, mais cette fois-ci, c'Ă©tait diffĂ©rent. Shawn Ă©tait la seule famille qui lui restait. Son pĂšre, handicapĂ© par une attaque cĂ©rĂ©brale, gisait dans un Ă©tat vĂ©gĂ©tatif avec peu ou pas d'espoir de guĂ©rison, et sa mĂšre avait pĂ©ri dans un accident de voiture. Depuis ses dix-huit ans, il n'y avait plus qu'elle et Shawn pour affronter le monde ensemble. Pendant leurs heures les plus sombres, Shawn avait portĂ© le fardeau seul, permettant Ă  Joelle de poursuivre sa passion pour le violon. Aujourd'hui, l'idĂ©e de le perdre Ă©tait insupportable. La seule chose qu'elle souhaitait, c'Ă©tait la mort d'Erick. « Joelle, comment peux-tu dire ça? », a sanglotĂ© Rebecca, la voix tremblante d'incrĂ©dulitĂ©. La patience d'Adrian a craquĂ©, et ses yeux sont devenus froids alors qu'ils se sont fixĂ©s sur Joelle. « Qu'est-ce que tu veux? » « Shawn a reçu deux notifications d'Ă©tat critique. Qu'en est-il d'Erick? » Rebecca a sursautĂ©, s'accrochant Ă  Adrian comme s'il Ă©tait la seule chose qui l'empĂȘchait de s'effondrer. « Joelle, je t'en prie!Il ne me reste qu'un seul frĂšre. Aie pitiĂ©, s'il te plaĂźt!» Elle s'est ensuite Ă©vanouie avant que Joelle ne puisse rĂ©pondre, ne laissant plus de place Ă  l'argumentation. Adrian a pris Rebecca dans ses bras, ses yeux remplis de reproches froids alors qu'il regardait Joelle une derniĂšre fois. Il s'est alors Ă©loignĂ©, laissant Joelle debout, ancrĂ©e sur place, incapable de bouger ou mĂȘme de penser pendant ce qui lui a semblĂ© ĂȘtre une Ă©ternitĂ©. Avant leur mariage, elle avait Ă©tĂ© la fille chĂ©rie, mais aprĂšs, elle s'Ă©tait rĂ©duite au rĂŽle de servante d'Adrian. Avec le recul, elle s'est rendu compte Ă  quel point elle avait Ă©tĂ© naĂŻve. Elle Ă©tait autrefois une personne trĂšs fiĂšre, mais maintenant elle endure toutes sortes de griefs juste pour faire plaisir Ă  son mari. C'Ă©tait pitoyable ! Cela fait trois ans, il est temps de divorcer et de commencer une nouvelle vie... ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichĂ©s est limitĂ©. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. (AccĂ©der automatiquement Ă  ce livre en ouvrant l'application) &3& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20322410-fb_contact-fra Romantic Fiction https://www.facebook.com/61564727788108/ 43 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.kifflire.com IMAGE https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20322410-fb_contact-fra220_2-1029-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=1017049066627247&rawadid=120212801065060391 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464786745_535892925894709_7172336259466652920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wlmBqgsmKa8Q7kNvgGCFDHe&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A3M1miOSQr_woseT4J3EEIm&oh=00_AYA3HTq-msIfGz6u22TWpQN9bciY9vuqFo4o2FERsF4zfA&oe=6745B261 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Romantic Fiction 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 â€ïžđŸ˜What happens next👉 "Xavier, are you free tonight? I have something to tell you." I mustered up the courage to text my husband, and my hands were a little wet holding the phone. Ten minutes... Half an hour... One hour... There was no reply from the other side. Just like his attitude towards me over the years, indifferent and aloof. I smiled bitterly and threw the phone on the sofa. Then I made dinner as usual and lay quietly on the sofa in the living room waiting for him. I thought he would not come back today. But at twelve o'clock in the early morning, I heard movement at the door. I immediately got up and walked forward, taking his coat and briefcase skillfully . A series of actions, just like an ordinary couple. "Don't text me casually in the future." Xavier's cold voice broke the calm of this moment. My hand hanging my coat trembled, and I murmured, "Okay, I won't do that again." He didn't hear the hidden meaning in my words, and asked me impatiently, "Don't you have something to tell me? What is it?" Even though I was already discouraged, I couldn't help but care about him. I pushed him to the dining table, "Don't worry, drink some stomach-warming soup first." Seeing him sit down steadily and take a sip of the soup, I finally felt relieved and said, "Let's get a divorce." My voice was calm, as calm as if I was talking about today's weather. His deep pupils shrink, "What did you say?" I knew he couldn't believe that I, who had loved him so humbly for so many years, was willing to divorce him. I stared at him straight, "I said let's get a divorce. I know your first love is back, and I decided to let go." "What tricks are you trying to play, Yvette Snyder? Do you want a child or money?" He asked coldly. On my wedding day, my mother and brother took away the large amount of dowry that Xavier paid, violating the terms of mutual benefit between both families. In the past few years, they often forced him to give me a child. I have never had a good image in his heart. "I don't want anything. I just want a divorce from you." I shook my head. Unexpectedly, the usually calm man angrily overturned the table in front of him. With red eyes, he grabbed my wrist fiercely and threw me on the sofa, and his head approached my neck. . . LEARN_MORE https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 Indulge in story https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ 842 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=13092&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/t39.35426-6/457270151_954156726399654_8659937070073615280_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZqMt2OsTBskQ7kNvgGZQCHN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYBBPwytq4YdAsphh-2v6yidH7j6Uv79TbqTky4htiprgw&oe=6745A8A8 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Indulge in story 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ° ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ Đ°ĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ” ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșĐ° ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, Đ° Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*Đ°Đč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșĐ° ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ·Đ° ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО Đ·Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡ĐșĐ°. ЧуĐČĐ°Đș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșĐ°Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČĐ°Đș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, Đ°?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČĐ°Đčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșĐ°, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу Đ·Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, Đ° ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Đ° Đ·Đ° ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČĐ° 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° руĐșу Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃ‚Đ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, Đ° ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČĐ°Đ» запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - Đ·Đ°ĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, Đ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč Đ·Đ° ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ° ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșĐ°Đș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐ°: «ВыпДĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ°. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐ°. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșĐ° сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČĐ° 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» Đ·Đ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐ°Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‘Đ» Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐ°, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐ° была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, Đ° Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČĐ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°Đșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČŃ‘Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșĐ°. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё. ГлаĐČĐ° 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčŃ‚Đ” ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČĐ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось Đ·Đ° сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșĐ°Đș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-Đ·Đ° ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ° Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŽĐ°? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” Đ°ĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Hello reading 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn more 0 fbweb.litradnovie.com IMAGE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195296150476 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910463_2961792227323198_5068724145007790457_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BZO_Rao4RxIQ7kNvgGPdXa5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMBPv7rhwHI-2yR18Tt6Isl&oh=00_AYDNh8nsEHF7nst8kcncKJkmY9hidg46ri4fWiw-BdCIAQ&oe=6745A8D9 REGULAR_PAGE 0 0 0 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 ХбДжаĐČшая Đ–Đ”ĐœĐ° ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ Дё ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČЮруг ĐŸĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ° ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐč любĐČĐž. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ŃĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐž ĐœĐ° глазах ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ”, сĐșрыла Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ушла с Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±ĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ. ===== Â«Đ“ĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ! Ваш Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČ». Дарья Đ ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐČ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶ĐžĐŒĐ°Ń Đș груЮо ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°! ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ĐŽĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐč ĐČсё Дщё ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐžĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”. Đ“Đ»ŃƒĐżĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ, Дарья ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ńƒ, Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€, у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. На эĐșŃ€Đ°ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸ: Â«ĐĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ прОДзжаĐč ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ "Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽ"». ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒ Â«Đ“Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŽÂ»? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœĐ° туЮа ĐżĐŸĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°? Дарья Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŒĐ°ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐșсО, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ŃŃƒ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу супруг Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Дё ĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžĐ” ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐĄ ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ° Đș ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŽ. ВыĐčЮя Оз ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ±ŃŽĐ»ŃŒ уĐșŃ€Đ°ŃˆĐ”Đœ цĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ°ĐŒĐž Đž ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐČŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐșĐŸĐč, яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč Đș ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐžĐșу. Дарья ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»Đ°, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐłĐŸĐŽĐŸĐČŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ох сĐČĐ°ĐŽŃŒĐ±Ń‹. ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Дё ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЮа, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюрпрОз? Дарья ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Дарья ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃƒ, слОĐČаясь с ĐœĐ”Đč ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃĐŽĐ”. ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșрасоĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ŃŃ срДЎО Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐżŃ‹. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ох Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ°. Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ растягоĐČать ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ ĐČ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ”, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшую Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœŃƒ, Đž Дё ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐ° застыла. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐ°! КаĐș ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽ? Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ проĐșĐ»Đ”Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń, ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ°Ń, ĐșĐ°Đș Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° разĐČлДĐșают ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Ń ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃƒŃŽ пару. Đ”Ń€ŃƒĐ·ŃŒŃ ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ох Đž, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, с Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đž. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ты ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°. За ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸ ĐČыпоть!» Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșох лДт ĐČы с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ!» ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃ‡Đ”. ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ°Ń ĐČ ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” Đž с ОзысĐșĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°ĐșĐžŃĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ, Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. «ЄĐČатот ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ. ĐŁ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ужД Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Â». Про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Дарьо ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ·Ń€Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒŃ? ĐŻ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐŒĐŸĐ»ŃŃŽ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ бабушĐșу!» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ! Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° тДбД. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚?» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐč ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃ†Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃŃˆĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐșĐ°Đ· ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒĐ”, ĐžĐ·Đ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒŃŽ, ĐœĐ”ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒŃƒŃŽ Ń…Đ°Ń€ĐžĐ·ĐŒŃƒ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, хĐČатот. ĐŸĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃƒ, - Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ. - ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚. ĐŻ ĐČыпью Đ·Đ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘Â». ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃˆŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒŃĐžĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. «ЭĐč, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта? бы Дё Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» ХрДЎО ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșох ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐłĐŸĐ»Đșах Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐČŃƒŃĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŒŃ‘Đș ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃĐČшая Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‡ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”Đ»Đ°. Эта ярĐșая Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČĐœĐ°Ń ŃŃ†Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ° сДрЎцД Дарьо. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșаплО ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž Đșапать Đ”Đč ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČДтДр Đž Ń…Đ»Ń‹ĐœŃƒĐ» лОĐČĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžĐČшОĐč Дё ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‚ĐșĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. Đ—Đ°Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐ°Đ» Дё? ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃƒĐ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ застаĐČоть Дё стать сĐČĐžĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ ох любĐČĐž Đž уступоть ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”? Đ”Đ°Ń€ŃŒĐ” ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸ Юышать. Đ Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”ĐČшось, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐąŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ступая, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐĄŃ‚ĐŸŃ ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ…, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŽĐŸĐŒ, Đž Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž блужЎалО гЎД-Ń‚ĐŸ ЎалДĐșĐŸ. ДĐČĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ Дарьо ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ спасто сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐČыЮаĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ Đ·Đ° прДЎстаĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»Ń ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżĐŸĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Ń‹ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ Оз-Đ·Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ°Ń бабушĐșĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ°ĐČоть ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ…ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐč браĐș. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐČŃŒĐ” бабушĐșĐž ŃƒĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Đ° ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-Đ·Đ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČДщО Đž ŃƒĐ”Đ·Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° пДрДЎ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐŒ, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐČуĐș Đ°ĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ±ĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐžĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°: Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ, ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ГлаĐČĐ° 2 ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ В ĐŸŃ†Đ”ĐżĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐž Дарья ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ЕĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”Ń‰ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ? Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДт Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Оз-Đ·Đ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ Đ°Đ·ĐČĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ сДĐčчас ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ с Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐŸĐč? ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта ĐŸŃ‚ Дарьо. Đ’Ń‹ĐŒĐŸĐșшая ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐșрую Đșрысу. Đ”Đ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃŃ‹, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… стДĐșала ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°, прОлОплО Đș Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ щДĐșĐ°ĐŒ, проЮаĐČая Đ”Đč жалĐșĐžĐč ĐČОЎ. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ, чёрт ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž, с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ?» - рДзĐșĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚. Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ застаĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дё сДрЎцД ŃĐ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżĐŸ-Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŃ Đș Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”. Пытаясь спраĐČоться с Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŽ, Дарья застаĐČОла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃŒ, Đ° у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŸĐœŃ‚ĐžĐșĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла». Đ’ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ° у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐžĐŒĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‡Đ”ŃĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡ĐžŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Дё, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. «йы ужД ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая. ЕслО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐșла, Ń‚ĐŸ пДрĐČĐŸĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐŸĐč, - ĐČŃ‹Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ тДбД ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ?» УлыбĐșĐ° ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо застыла. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž...» «ИЎО Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃŃ, Đ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃÂ», - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČыпалОл Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Дё Đž ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐŒ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐžŃˆŃŒŃŃ? ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ĐłĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ° ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč Ўуш, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ЗаĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ”, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ путо Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đž ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐșтоĐČĐœĐŸ ĐșрДпчД сжала ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ†Đ” ĐœĐ° груЮо. Đ—Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐČ Đ”Ń‘ рДаĐșцою, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Đž раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ? ĐŻ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ужД ĐČОЎДл». Đ›ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дарьо Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșрасĐșĐŸĐč. ĐĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ”Đ±Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽŃ‹ Đž стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚, ĐČыпДĐč». Дарья ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° таблДтĐșу, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ та ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Đ»Ń‹ŃˆŃƒ. Â«Đ”ŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐčЮусь бДз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, я ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” таĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžÂ». ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐČОл ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. «йы ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ Đ·Đ”Ń€ĐșалД ĐČОЎДла? бы Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń, ĐșĐ°Đș проĐČĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ЗаĐČтра ĐŒŃ‹ Đ”ĐŽĐ”ĐŒ Đș бабушĐșĐ”, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžŃˆŃŒ?» ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Дарья, Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸŃŃŃŒ ĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ”, ŃƒĐżĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČыпоть Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ Ń‚Ń‘ĐżĐ»ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐČĐŸŃ‚ Đž ĐČсё. ĐŻ ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșĐ”, праĐČЎа». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» таблДтĐșу ĐČ Ń€ĐŸŃ‚ Đž сЎДлал ĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș ĐČĐŸĐŽŃ‹. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты... Ах!» ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ Дарья успДла ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČышаясь ĐœĐ°ĐŽ ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. ЗастаĐČĐžĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœ ĐșрДпĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐłŃƒĐ±Đ°ĐŒĐž Đș Дё. йаблДтĐșĐ° Đž ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐČĐŸ рту, Đž ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃĐ»Đ°Đ±ĐžĐ» хĐČатĐșу, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° лДĐșарстĐČĐŸ. От ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đż*Ń†Đ”Đ»ŃƒŃ у Дарьо Đ·Đ°ĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°, ŃĐŒŃ‹ĐČая ĐČсД Дё запрДты. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ”, oĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČать Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ°. Â«Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, я
 - ĐœĐ”Ń€ĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°, пытаясь ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. - ĐŻ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒÂ». Её ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸĐłĐ°ŃĐžĐ»Đž ĐČсД Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. На Đ”ĐłĐŸ лОцД ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž ĐŸĐœ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș, застаĐČĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đ” глаза. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đž Дщё раз». ХДрЎцД Дарьо ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ”Đč ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ°ĐČоть Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž Đž ŃĐŒĐ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ супруга. «Я сĐșазала, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°Â». В глазах Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Đ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐž. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ?» Дарью ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ, Đž ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”. А ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ жД Дщё? ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ жД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃĐŒĐŸĐł ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ¶Đ”Đ»Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ”. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ...» - ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČŃˆĐžĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. «У тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐœĐžĐșлО Ń„ĐžĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐŸĐČŃ‹Đ” Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž? Đ Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ оЮёт ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐ°Ń…? - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘. - Даша, ты разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ°? ЕслО тДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО. ĐĐ” ограĐč ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đž огры, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ эту Ń‡ŃƒŃˆŃŒÂ». Дарья ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° сжала ĐșулаĐșĐž Đž ŃŃ‚ĐžŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ·ŃƒĐ±Ń‹. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ” - ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° Оз Дё огр, сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐșĐ° ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать сотуацою ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń…? ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ глазах ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐșŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся. ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đœ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ разĐČĐŸĐŽ. Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸ ОлО ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ ĐČсё раĐČĐœĐŸ разĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы, таĐș ĐșĐ°Đșая Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°?» ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДчал, ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ŃĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń…. Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»ĐŸ Дарью ĐČ Ń‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ, Đ° ĐČ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ”Đ»ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ трДĐČĐŸĐłĐž Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐŒĐŸĐč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹. «ИлО... ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ?» ГлаĐČĐ° 3 Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Про ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ разĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, сДрЎцД Дарьо Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ»ĐŸ, Đ° ĐČ ĐłŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ прДЎĐČĐșŃƒŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° Дё ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ°ĐœŃ‹ĐČĐ°Đč ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, - Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČыĐč Ń‚ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ» Дё, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»: - бы ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я буЎу ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°? - сĐČĐ”Ń€Đ»Ń Дё Đ»Đ”ĐŽŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл: - Đ—Đ°ĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐž, Даша, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ты ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° разĐČĐŸĐŽ. ĐĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐ»Đ·Đ°Đč ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸÂ». ĐĄ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚ĐŸ ушДл. Дарья ĐŸŃ…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃ‡Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ плача, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° руĐșу ĐœĐ° жОĐČĐŸŃ‚, чуĐČстĐČуя, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€Đž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ растёт ĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ”ĐœŃŒĐșая Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ. Đ˜Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ буĐșĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ чДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Đ°ŃĐŸĐČ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž разĐČĐŸĐŽĐ°. ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐČ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ” ĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ супруга ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Дё Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ДажД ДслО ĐŸĐœĐž Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐčЮутся, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ĐČырастоть Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐČ ĐŸ сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‰ŃƒŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° проступ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Đ‘Đ°Đ±ŃƒŃˆĐșĐ° Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ уĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ, Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”Đč ОЎДДĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČсё ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Đž Đ”Đč ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ уĐčто с ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. На ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”Đ” ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Дарья прОбыла ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž «ХĐČŃĐ·ŃŒÂ», Дё ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đž ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đ” Đ·Đ°ŃĐŽĐ»Ń‹Đ” ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°, ĐŒŃ‹ жЎалО Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČсё ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? ĐžĐœĐž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”?» Â«ĐĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐžĐČаДт ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșу ĐČ Ń‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒĐœĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒĐżĐ”Ń€ĐŒĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐŸĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐč, Ń€Đ°ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐșĐ°Đș Đ»Đ”ŃĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°Ń€. ĐžĐœ прОгласОл ĐČсДх сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ·Đ”Đč. ĐŸĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐŸĐœ ĐČсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃƒĐ±Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐČоть ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ…!» «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДлО ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”. ĐœĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚, ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ°Ń Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°!» Дарья ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Đ” ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ±Đ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐ” слОшĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đž Đ·Đ°ĐșатОлО глаза. ОчДĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐž Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČДрОлО. «Да Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Даша! бы жД сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐč. КаĐș эта ĐžĐœŃ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐ°Ń†ĐžŃ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐčто ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń? ДаĐČĐ°Đč ĐČыĐșлаЎыĐČĐ°Đč!» Дарья ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ВсД Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дарья Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°, ĐœĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ былО ĐČ ĐșŃƒŃ€ŃĐ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° таĐșжД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœ ЎажД ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» Đ°Ń„ĐžŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать ох ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐČ, ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčчоĐČĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°: «Я ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°ŃŽ, ŃŃĐœĐŸ? Đ„ĐČатот ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČоть ĐœĐ° Дарью, ĐœĐŸ та ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐČала ох прДжЎД, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐž успДлО ĐČŃ‹ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐČоть Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐŸ. «Я жД ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃŒŃ‚Đ” ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Вас ĐœĐ°ĐœŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ»Ń Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČращаĐčŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ Đș Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ”!» Её ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” лОца ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ох, ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ праĐČĐ°, ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. Â«Đ›Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸ, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ушла, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đž ŃĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. Â«ĐšĐ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ°? йаĐș ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČДЎёт. Đ„ĐŒ! ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ” Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒÂ». «Да, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° тро ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŒŃ‹ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐșĐ°ĐșОД-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃ с ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ» Đ”Đč ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ Đž ЎажД ĐœĐ” брал ĐœĐ° ĐČстрДчО с ĐșĐ»ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐŒĐž. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đč сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€ŃŒ, ĐœŃƒ Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Оз ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ? ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ услаЎа ĐŽĐ»Ń глаз!» «Её ĐŽĐœĐž Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČыĐčЎДт Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ Đ·Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°, Дашу уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŃ‚ пДрĐČĐŸĐč. В ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ” ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†ĐŸĐČ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» бы ŃĐžĐŒĐżĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ”?» Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ!» Их ŃĐŒĐ”Ń… Đž Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐœĐ°Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»Ń‚ĐŸĐČĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ, ĐœĐŸ Дарья, ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД Дё ĐČоЮят это, ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бы, ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° с ĐœĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎажД ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐžŃ‰Đ”ĐŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ” успДла, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ» ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐœŃ, Đž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ сДĐșрДтарДĐč ужД Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐŒ. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дарья ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČДщО, Đ”Đč ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° Дё Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ°Ń ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°, ВарĐČара Đ›ŃƒĐœĐžĐœĐ°. «Я ĐČОЎДла ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ŃƒŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐŒ. Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ ĐŒĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃƒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐœĐžĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč? Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ…Đž?» ĐŁŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ВарĐČары, Дарья Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ праĐČЎа». ĐŸĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ° Đ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта?!» За ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Дарья ĐČсё ĐŸĐ±ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ŃŠŃŃĐœĐžĐ»Đ°: Â«Đ’ĐŸ-пДрĐČых, ĐŒŃ‹ с Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ОсĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐœĐžĐșĐ°Đșох чуĐČстĐČ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ĐŸĐœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ бабушĐșĐ°. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ любОт, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться. ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸŃŃĐŸĐ”ĐŽĐžĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃÂ». ВарĐČара оспытыĐČала ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đž ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. Â«ĐĐŸâ€Š А ĐșĐ°Đș жД Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐŸĐș? Đ Đ°Đ·ĐČĐ” ты ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐŒŃƒ сюрпрОз?» «А ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐ”Ń‚ лО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‡ŃƒĐŽĐ”ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃŃŽŃ€ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐŸĐŒ? ИлО ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ? - Дарья ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ жОĐČĐŸŃ‚Đ° Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. - В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, я ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” разĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĄĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœĐŸ, разĐČĐŸĐŽ? бы ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°? - с Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸĐŒ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ВарĐČара. - ЕслО ты ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐ”Đč Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, тДбД проЮётся уĐčто с Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹. ĐąĐČĐŸĐč жОĐČĐŸŃ‚ сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐœŃ‘Ń‚ растО». Â«ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčся, я ужД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° Đž сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ уĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° я ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸ-ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžŃ‚ŃŃÂ». ĐŁĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸ Дё ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забытых ĐŒĐ”Ń‡Ń‚Đ°Ń… ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° лОцД Дарьо рДЎĐșую ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу. Â«Đ‘ĐŸĐ¶Đ” ĐŒĐŸĐč! Даша, ты ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒŃŃ Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Đ”? - с ĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐłĐŸĐŒ ĐČыпалОла ВарĐČара. - Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ°ŃŽŃ‰Đ”! ĐŻ ĐČсДгЎа ĐČДрОла ĐČ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń! бы ĐłĐ”ĐœĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ”Ń€! Đ‘Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐłĐžŃŃŒ, ĐŒĐžŃ€! Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‰Đ°Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ”ĐœĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐŒĐžŃ€Đ” ЎОзаĐčĐœĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽŃ‹, ĐĄĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ°! ĐĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžĐ»ĐŸ растрачоĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚, Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Ń ĐČсД это ĐłĐŸĐŽŃ‹ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚!» «ХĐČĐ”Ń‚Đ»Đ°ĐœĐ° ĐąĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ°...» - ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Дарья, ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ забытыĐč псДĐČĐŽĐŸĐœĐžĐŒ. Đ Đ°ĐŽĐž Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń, праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž забыĐČ, ĐșĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ. Â«Đ”Đ°ŃˆĐ°Â», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐŽĐž ĐœĐ”Ń‘ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. Đ’Đ·ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐČ, Дарья ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž уĐČОЎДла Đ·Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. ГлаĐČĐ° 4 Đ‘ŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃ‡ĐșĐ° ĐČ ĐŽŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐČĐșĐ” Â«Đ Đ”Đœ... я ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃŽ ĐČ ĐČОЎу, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ! Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ЎДлаДтД?» Дарью засталО ĐČŃ€Đ°ŃĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ‹Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. ĐĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€, пытаясь ĐŸŃ‚Ń‹ŃĐșать ĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ†Đ” Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ° любыД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐž ĐłĐœĐ”ĐČĐ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚? КаĐș ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»? «РазĐČĐ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ бабушĐșу ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”?» - ĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Đ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Дарья ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ох ĐŸĐ±Ń‰ĐžŃ… ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ОпустоĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐžĐœĐŸĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°: «Я... ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ». Â«Đ„ĐŒ, - раĐČĐœĐŸĐŽŃƒŃˆĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŒŃ‹ĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Đž, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Ń‘, ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ”Đ», Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐČ ĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. - ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ ĐžŃˆĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒĐ»Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đž Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ Дарья прДбыĐČала ĐČ ŃĐŒŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐž. ИспытыĐČая ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃƒŃŽ ŃĐŒĐ”ŃŃŒ ŃĐŒĐŸŃ†ĐžĐč, ĐŸĐœĐ° с трДĐČĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đ» лО Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ Дё Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ с ВарĐČĐ°Ń€ĐŸĐč. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ДслО бы супруг ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Ń‹ĐČать Ń€Đ”Đ±Ń‘ĐœĐșĐ° ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°, Ń‚ĐŸ сДĐčчас ĐœĐ” был бы таĐș ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐ”Đœ. ĐžĐœĐž сОЎДлО Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐč Ń‚ĐžŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Про ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐ”ŃĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Дарьо ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ бДз ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžŃ. ĐĐ” ĐČ ŃĐžĐ»Đ°Ń… Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ, слДгĐșĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚?» Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Đ» Дарью, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐČращая Đș Ń€Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. Â«ĐĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ°. Â«ĐĐ”ŃƒĐ¶Đ”Đ»Đž?» - с ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœŃ‘Ń ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°. ĐŁ Дарьо Đ±Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сДрЎцД. ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đșрыла Ń€ĐŸŃ‚, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ Đ·Đ°Ń‰ĐžŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ Ń€ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с Дё ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒĐ°ĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ°. «ЕслО ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ пустяĐș, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ты ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”ĐłĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Дарья застыла ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”, ĐœĐ” ŃĐŒĐ”Ń ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃĐŒĐ”Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸĐș. ĐšŃ€Đ°Đ”ĐŒ глаза Дарья Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ... ...... === Đ”Đ»Ń ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ сДĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń€Ń‘ĐŒ ĐłĐ”ĐœĐ”Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°. За Đ·Đ°ĐșŃ€Ń‹Ń‚Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃĐŒĐž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČĐ°Đ». Дарья была счастлОĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐ°. ĐĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° Дё ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, Đ Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚, уĐČлёĐșся сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč пДрĐČĐŸĐč Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČью. ĐĄ Ń‚ŃĐ¶Ń‘Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đž ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, oĐœ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” Đ°ĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &3& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/14691418-fb_contact- Heat stories https://www.facebook.com/61563777993401/ 317 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=120214477030310319 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467457507_1263026011676273_6964486891440956316_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HPDvS_1M8f0Q7kNvgFnhWXk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=At2EQIex-FBvciRc4csE8By&oh=00_AYDZ5nQ6WBQbTHyHj3rLr4m_JGdxq7fXoFgP2CjUkWQURg&oe=6745AF91 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Heat stories 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ° ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ Đ°ĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ” ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșĐ° ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, Đ° Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*Đ°Đč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșĐ° ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ·Đ° ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО Đ·Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡ĐșĐ°. ЧуĐČĐ°Đș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșĐ°Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČĐ°Đș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, Đ°?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČĐ°Đčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșĐ°, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу Đ·Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, Đ° ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Đ° Đ·Đ° ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČĐ° 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° руĐșу Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃ‚Đ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, Đ° ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČĐ°Đ» запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - Đ·Đ°ĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, Đ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč Đ·Đ° ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ° ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșĐ°Đș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐ°: «ВыпДĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ°. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐ°. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșĐ° сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČĐ° 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» Đ·Đ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐ°Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‘Đ» Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐ°, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐ° была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, Đ° Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČĐ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°Đșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČŃ‘Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșĐ°. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё. ГлаĐČĐ° 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčŃ‚Đ” ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČĐ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось Đ·Đ° сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșĐ°Đș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-Đ·Đ° ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ° Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŽĐ°? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” Đ°ĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Lime novel https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ 862 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=120213512748540790 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466119353_1276372633789463_8980352605232877289_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C1Q5ObIoUcUQ7kNvgHUI0hi&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7H2JowJgk88M6R0wzd6Hj4&oh=00_AYCdTzsWcbdZ6FlPwuO0AbYPRUFg3dWBYd8hlLEmCBf5LA&oe=6745CA50 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Lime novel 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 Чотать ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ глаĐČу👉 ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ°, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ДД Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с ŃƒĐŒĐ°! ===== ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČĐ° ŃĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶. К ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‡Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ…Đ° ĐœĐžĐłĐŽĐ” ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČĐžĐŽĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° пустую ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, Đž Дё Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ, ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń‹ĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” жДлала Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃ€Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”! ĐĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ? ĐĄ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń€ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсД аспДĐșты Дё Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃŒĐŒĐž. ĐĄĐ°ĐŒĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đž Дё Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐŽĐžĐ» Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ŃĐŸŃŽĐ·Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ°ĐŽĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. Её ЎДЎушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ŃˆĐŸŃ„Ń‘Ń€ĐŸĐŒ у Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°, глаĐČы ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒŃ‰Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых. ĐŸĐŸ ĐŽĐŸŃĐ°ĐŽĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ»Đž ĐČ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœŃƒŃŽ Đ°ĐČарою, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ЎДЎ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐłĐžĐ±, спасая Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°. В ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ”ŃŃŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ°Ń ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžŃ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč упраĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° Дё ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ, ĐČДзЎД Đž ĐČсюЮу ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃĐ·Đ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŸĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐ°Ń…. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐž Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, Дё хотрыĐč ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž у ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đł, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ былО ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐ” ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČых. Đ’ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐżĐ»Đ°Đœ, ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐœĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐČĐœŃƒĐș Đ ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŸĐœĐ°, ВОталОĐč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ, Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”. УчотыĐČая Đ±ĐŸĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐŸĐœĐž былО уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœŃ‹, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ” ЮаЮут Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐžĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž ĐČ ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ° руĐșу Đž сДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. И, ĐČ ĐșачДстĐČĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐœŃƒŃĐ°, ĐŸĐœĐž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČОлО бы Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ сĐČŃĐ·ŃŒ с ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ‘Đč ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была бы Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐœĐŸ сĐșŃ€Đ”ĐżĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ°. Đ Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ŃŃ, ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŸĐœĐž росĐșĐŸĐČалО ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ОлО ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”. ВОталОĐč Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐ” яĐČĐžĐČшось ĐœĐ° Đ±Đ°ĐœĐșДт, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐœĐ° ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ ĐœĐ” просутстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐ” Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐČ ŃĐ”ĐŒĐ”Đč. ĐžĐœ таĐșжД ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐČ ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐž Ń„Đ°ĐŒĐžĐ»ĐžĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых Đž запрДтОл Đ”Đč ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»ŃŽĐŽŃĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°. На ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ°, ĐœĐžĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐœĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹. ĐĄĐ”Đčчас ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ с ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸĐč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč Đž распраĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐżĐ»Đ”Ń‡Đ°ĐŒĐž. Её Ń€Đ”ŃĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, слДгĐșĐ° ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ĐłĐ»Đ°Đ·Đ°Ń… Ń‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃƒĐżŃ€ŃĐŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ŃƒĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ. ĐĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș Đ”Đč ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžŃ‚ŃŒ? В Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДЎёт пДрĐČую Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐč Оз сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”Đł. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Дё ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”. йа ĐœĐ” стала ĐŽĐŸĐ»ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃƒĐŒŃ‹ĐČать. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз зала Đž ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоться ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. ĐœĐłĐœĐŸĐČĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ запОсО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐČ, Đ° Дё ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐœĐ”Đ” ĐżĐ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Đ±Đ”Đ»Ń‹ĐŒ Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…Đ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ. Đ’ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐșĐžĐŒ стуĐșĐŸĐŒ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ĐČĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đž ŃƒĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ” успДла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ глаза, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»ĐŸĐżĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ° Ń‰Đ”Đ»Ń‡ĐŸĐș ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Ń, Đž ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐžĐž ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. ĐŸĐŸ Дё ŃĐżĐžĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Đ» Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐș. Â«ĐšŃ‚ĐŸ...» ĐĐ” успДла ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ». Куча ĐșĐ°ĐœŃ†Đ”Đ»ŃŃ€ŃĐșох ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ»Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč упала ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ», Đž ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Đș Дё шДД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč Đș*Đ°Đč Đœ*жа. Â«ĐąĐžŃ…ĐŸ!» - сĐČĐžŃ€Đ”ĐżĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОĐč. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń†Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČ Ń‚ŃƒŃĐșĐ»ĐŸĐŒ сĐČДтД, Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ был ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐœ Đ±ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. В ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŽŃƒŃ…Đ” ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐžŃ… ĐČОтал Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹Đč запах жДлДза, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. Đ‘Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸĐ»Đ”Ń‚ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đž ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚Ńƒ ĐČрача, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČОД. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ŃĐŸĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ ĐœĐŸĐłŃƒ, ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ атаĐșĐŸĐČать ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ”ĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČОЎДл Дё ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Ń‚ĐŸ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč сжал Дё ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ” Đž прОжал Đș ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Ńƒ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž ĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đ±Ń‘ĐŽŃ€Đ°ĐŒĐž. ВЮруг ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆŃƒĐŒ ŃˆĐ°ĐłĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. «БыстрДД, я ĐČОЎДла, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœ ŃˆŃ‘Đ» сюЮа!» Đ”ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐșроĐșĐ° ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž, Đž это люЎО ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ бы ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ. ОтчаяĐČшось, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу Đž ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœĐ° стала Đ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž была уЎОĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» Đ”Đč Đœ*Đ¶ĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸ ту ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃƒ ĐŽĐČДрО, схĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ Đ·Đ° ручĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐČ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Đș сДбД Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐČОла руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐ”ŃŽ. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ**Đ»ĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‡ŃŒÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ, ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё страх ĐœĐ” был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚Đ”Đœ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ŃˆŃƒĐŒĐœĐŸ ŃĐłĐ»ĐŸŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ». Đ•ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽĐ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ” ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” у сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ уха: «Я ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸÂ». Đ•ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ был ĐœĐžĐ·ĐșĐžĐŒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃĐłĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. ĐĐŸ ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ». ĐžĐœĐ° Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČсё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ протĐČĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶Đ”Đœ был ĐœĐž Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ. В ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒŃŽŃ‰ŃƒŃŽ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° тут жД ŃĐ»ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸ**луД. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ох Đ·Đ°Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ€Đ”Đ°ĐłĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČуĐș. ĐžĐœ ĐŒĐŸĐł бы ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐœŃ‘ĐŒ, ДслО бы люЎО Đ·Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đž. «Ч*рт ĐČ*Đ·ŃŒĐŒĐž! Да ŃŃ‚ĐŸ жД ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ц**ующаяся ĐżĐ°Ń€ĐŸŃ‡ĐșĐ°. ЧуĐČĐ°Đș, ĐŸĐœĐž Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐžŃ!» ĐĄĐČДт Оз ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐșĐ°Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Ń пару. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐČĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, сĐșрыĐČая Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœŃ‹Ń… глаз ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ВОталОĐč. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒĐ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐŸĐș Ń‚ŃĐ¶Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đœ. ĐĐ”ĐČĐ°Đ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°Đ·ĐœĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, я ŃĐŸĐŒĐœĐ”ĐČаюсь, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ хĐČатот сОл ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ с ĐœĐ”Đč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒÂ». Â«ĐĐŸ, чуĐČĐ°Đș, эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ОзЎаёт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đ” Đ·ĐČуĐșĐž, Đ°?» «ЗатĐșĐœĐžŃŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐČДлОĐČĐ°Đčся! ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ”, ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” ĐŒŃ‹ ĐżĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń€ŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы!» ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃˆĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ… Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐżĐŸŃ‚ ĐœĐŸĐł, Đž ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ, Đ° ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐžŃŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČатДлО ушлО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐž, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃĐŸŃ€ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ, Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ° Đż**ĐŸŃ‚Đž Đ·Đ°Ń…Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐș жД**ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČ ĐžŃ… Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ОлО ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐžĐœŃ‚ĐžĐŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐșĐ°ŃĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ Юруг Юруга, Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐČĐŸ ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸĐŒ прОлОĐČĐ” Đ°ĐŽŃ€Đ”ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Ń…ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đ±ŃƒĐœŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃĐșая жОлĐșĐ°, ĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ”ĐČала. Đ”ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° жОла ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŸĐč ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒŃŽ, ĐČсДгЎа ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžĐœŃŃŃŃŒ праĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐ°ĐŒ, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐžĐŒĐž. На ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ раз - Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы раз - ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ°Đ»ĐŸĐČать ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŸŃ‚Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸĐž запрДты Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžĐč, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŸĐœ ЎДлал ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐž Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃ†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐČ Ń‰Ń‘Đșу. «Я проЮу Đ·Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ, ĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐ” ĐČсё Дщё ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐșĐž ĐœĐ°ŃĐ»Đ°Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ. А Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃˆŃ‘Đ», таĐș жД ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆŃ‘Đ». ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž, прДжЎД Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐŸĐłĐž. ĐąĐžŃˆĐžĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒŃˆĐžĐ» Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș Дё Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœĐ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ лДжОт ĐœĐ° Đșраю ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»Đ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° схĐČатОла Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” упал, Đž ĐœĐ°Đ¶Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДта. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€! - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. -В Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ проĐČДзлО ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°. ĐžĐœ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°Đ» ĐČ Đ°ĐČарою Đž ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ» ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹Đ” траĐČĐŒŃ‹. ĐĐ°ĐŒ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČы ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐșазалО Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ŃŒ!» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ·ĐČŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ» Ń€ĐŸĐČĐœĐŸ: Â«Đ„ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ, я буЎу чДрДз ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đșу Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐŽĐČДрО, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń. ĐžĐœĐ° Đž ĐČпраĐČЎу Đ·Đ°ĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с*ĐșŃĐŸĐŒ с ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ†Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ±Ń€Đ°Ń‡ĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ был ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒŃƒŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœĐž! ĐĐŸ сДĐčчас Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐżŃ€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐœĐŸĐČать сĐČĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐŸĐș ОлО Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŒŃ‹ŃˆĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃŃ‚ĐČоях. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° проĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐŸĐș Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń†Đ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€ эĐșŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰Đž. Đ’Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸĐș ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° была Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† ĐŸŃĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ, ужД Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐžĐ»ŃŃ рассĐČДт. Đ’Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČсё таĐș жД ĐłŃ€ŃĐ·ĐœĐŸ. РуĐșĐž ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž ŃĐ¶Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșулаĐșĐž, Đ° ĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ”ŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Ń€ĐŸĐČа», - ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° с Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. йа ĐČыЮаĐČОла Оз ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đșу: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста». Â«Đ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” я спраĐČĐ»ŃŽŃŃŒ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐ°. йДбД ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒŃ‚ŃŒ, - ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° Đ±ŃƒĐŒĐ°ĐłĐž, Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ, Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž. - Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČсё ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»Ńƒ?» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐșĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДла глаза Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «ОĐč, я ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°ĐčĐœĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ох. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐžŃŃŒ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ. ĐŻ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ°, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐčЎу». ĐŻĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” прОЎала ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Đ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°Đ·Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐČДщО. ĐžĐœĐ° ДЎĐČĐ° успДла ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, Đ° Đ·Đ° ĐœĐžĐŒ - ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐș Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ГлаĐČĐ° 2 ЧуĐČстĐČĐŸ ĐČĐžĐœŃ‹ Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČрач, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. - Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČа». ĐŃŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐžŃ€Đ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐČĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ» ĐœĐ° таблОчĐșу с ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ° Đ»Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐœĐŸĐŒ халатД ĐŻĐœŃ‹. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ” ŃĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐč». ĐŻĐœĐ° была ĐČ Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”. Â«ĐšŃƒĐŽĐ° ĐŒŃ‹ ĐžĐŽŃ‘ĐŒ?» ĐĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Дё ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ. ĐžĐœ с ŃĐžĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Дё Đ·Đ° руĐșу Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽŃ‘ĐŒŃ‚Đ”. ĐĐ” застаĐČĐ»ŃĐčŃ‚Đ” ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒÂ». ВсĐșĐŸŃ€Đ” ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚Đ” ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ° Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. ВОталОĐč сОЎДл ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœĐ”, Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐŸŃ‰Đ°ĐČĐŸĐ” Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ” Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐŽ ĐČ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽŃ‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ”, Đ° ĐŽĐ»ĐžĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐœĐŸĐłĐž былО сĐșŃ€Đ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœŃ‹ пДрДЎ ĐœĐžĐŒ. ĐŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹Đč глаз Đž ĐżŃ€ĐžŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐ”Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃƒĐ±Ń‹ былО Đ±Đ»Đ”ĐŽĐœĐ”Đ” ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ. К счастью, рДзĐșĐžĐč запах ĐŽĐ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃŽŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ срДЎстĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒ былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹, сĐșрыĐČĐ°Đ» запах Đș**ĐČĐž ĐœĐ° Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đ”. ĐžĐœ был ĐŸĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐČ Ń‡ĐžŃŃ‚Ń‹Đč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŽĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč таĐșжД ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł сĐșрыть ĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœŃ‹Đ” ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°, ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ” ĐČстрДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČшОД бы ĐČсДх ĐŸĐșŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžŃ…. В Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž лОца чуĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ жёстĐșĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń таĐș Đž ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ°, Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐ±Ń‹ĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČ ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ аЎу, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ с ĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐžŃ‚ шутоть. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ĐŽĐžĐČĐ°ĐœŃƒ Đž ĐœĐ°ĐșĐ»ĐŸĐœĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐżŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ВОталОю ĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸ: Â«Đ’ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐżĐžŃĐž с ĐșĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€ ĐœĐ°Đ±Đ»ŃŽĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹, сĐșĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ сЎДлалО ĐČашО ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČшОД. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đž слДЎы Đž ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đž ĐČсД ĐČĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Đ” улОĐșĐž. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшая ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐ°ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ĐČДрЎОл ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐŻ таĐșжД ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОл запОсО. Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ°Â». ĐąĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ» глаза. ĐŁ ĐŻĐœŃ‹ рДзĐșĐŸ пДрДхĐČĐ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ°ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ пДрДЎ ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐ°ĐŒ Đ±ĐŸŃŃ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž Â«ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚Â». «Вы Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸĐł ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ВОталОĐč, ĐŸĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ‹ĐČая Дё с ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČы ĐŽĐŸ ĐœĐŸĐł. ĐŻĐœĐ° тут жД ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ°ŃŃŃŒ ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с ĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. «Да... Đ­-ŃŃ‚ĐŸ была ŃÂ», - ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ Đ”Ń‘ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐ°Ń… ĐČĐŸĐčто ĐČ ĐŽĐŸĐČДрОД Đș ВОталОю ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČу. Đ’Ń‹ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” застаĐČот ŃĐ”Đ±Ń Đ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ. йаĐș ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ” ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚ĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžŃ праĐșтоĐșĐž. И Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș таĐșĐŸĐČĐŸĐ”, ĐČсД ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃĐ»Đž Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€ĐœŃ‹ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐžŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐ” Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃƒŃ‚ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń‹ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐČут ĐŽĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ†Đ° сĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐșĐ°Ń€ŃŒĐ”Ń€Ń‹ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ŃƒŃ‡Ń€Đ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐž. ЕслО уж ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ, ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ» ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃƒĐż Đș Ń€Đ”ŃŃƒŃ€ŃĐ°ĐŒ, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆĐ”, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Đ”. ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČала ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ ĐČ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Đ¶ĐŽĐ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать Đ”ĐłĐŸ сĐČŃĐ·Đž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐżĐ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ Đ»ŃƒŃ‡ŃˆŃƒŃŽ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ. «Я ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”ĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČать тДбД ĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ты Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ЎажД браĐșĐŸĐŒÂ», - ĐČĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐżĐœĐŸ прДрĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒ ĐŸ ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž ŃĐŒŃĐłŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ° жёстĐșую Đ»ĐžĐœĐžŃŽ Đ”ĐłĐŸ рта. Â«Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ ж... ĐŻ...» - ŃŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° сДбД прДЎстаĐČоть, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° с Ń‚Ń€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐž ĐșĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐ”, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ŃˆŃŒ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”Â», - ĐČстал ВОталОĐč Đž Đ¶Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃĐ° Юать Đ”Đč сĐČĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Đ°ĐșŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đž ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ» ВОталОю ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. «В ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚, Đž ĐČсё Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐžĐ»ŃŃ, ĐșĐ°Đș Đ±ŃƒĐŽŃ‚ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸŃĐ”ĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ. ĐžĐœ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ Đž сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŒŃ‚Đ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč». Â«ĐšĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸÂ», - Đ·Đ°ĐČДрОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ с ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸĐč ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐșĐŸĐč. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‚ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐ” ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸĐČ ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐžĐŒĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆŃ‘Đ» Đș ВОталОю. Â«ĐĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐžĐș, - ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸĐœ Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐžĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, - ĐČы ĐČĐ”ĐŽŃŒ ужД Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ браĐș яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”ĐŒĐ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ ĐČĐ°Ń€ĐžĐ°ĐœŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đž ĐĐłĐ°Ń„ĐŸĐœĐŸĐČĐŸĐč. Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽŃƒĐ”Ń‚ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃÂ». Đ“ŃƒĐ±Ń‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽŃ‘Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ браĐșĐ”, Đ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŒŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐœĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ”, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč Đ”ĐłĐŸ застаĐČОлО Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ. «йДбД Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐŸĐ”Đ»ĐŸ?» - ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșу. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ, Đž тут жД Đ·Đ°ĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ». В ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐŸĐœ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČŃĐ”ĐłĐŸ злОт Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃĐ° - ĐœĐŸĐČая ĐœĐ”ĐČДста ОлО Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰ĐžĐč Đ·Đ° ĐČŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐžĐ”ĐŒ. ĐąĐ”ĐŒ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐČОллу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. Đ­ĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ° ŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐœĐžŃ… лДт, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ ĐŸĐŒĐ°ĐœĐŸĐČĐ°, ĐČстрДтОла Дё ĐČ Ń„ĐŸĐčĐ”, ĐœĐ° Дё лОцД Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐŸ Đ±Đ”ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčстĐČĐŸ. Â«ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐČас ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ, ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ°?» «Я ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐ° была ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла та. Её глаза былО ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐœĐ”ĐČŃˆĐžĐŒĐž Đž ŃĐ»Đ”Đ·ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃ‚Đž. ĐŁĐČОЎДĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚Đ°ĐžĐČать ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ°ĐČДрх Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃƒ. Её ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐœĐ”ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ Đș ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽŃ‹ĐŽŃƒŃ‰Đ”Đč ĐœĐŸŃ‡Đž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала, ĐșĐ°Đș Дё щёĐșĐž ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đž ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đž ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ, ĐșĐ°Đș бы спасаясь ĐŸŃ‚ трДĐČĐŸĐ¶ĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐČĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐč. Её чуĐČстĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽŃƒ былО ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž, Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, с Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ЎажД ĐœĐ” прДЎстаĐČĐ»ŃĐ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ был Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”Đș. Đ‘ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ была Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ. От ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đž ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐČĐžĐœŃƒ. ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” проĐČДлО ох Đș ĐœŃ‹ĐœĐ”ŃˆĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ, фаĐșт ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ фаĐșŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ: ĐŸĐœĐ° Đž ВОталОĐč яĐČĐ»ŃŃŽŃ‚ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐŒ Đž Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹, ĐŸĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đž ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. КаĐș Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·, ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ тут жД Đ·Đ°ŃŃƒĐ”Ń‚ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг ĐœĐ”Ń‘: «Вы ĐŸĐżŃŃ‚ŃŒ ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ” таĐș сĐșĐŸŃ€ĐŸ? ĐŸĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ бы ĐČĐ°ĐŒ ŃĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°ĐČтраĐșать?» йа ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚, я ĐŸĐżĐŸĐ·ĐŽĐ°ŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃƒÂ». ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČрач, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ»Ń ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐč ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž яĐČĐ»ŃĐ”Ń‚ŃŃ ĐœĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ”ŃƒĐŒĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐ” ĐșĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž. ĐąĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ”Đč стаĐșĐ°Đœ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐ°: «ВыпДĐčŃ‚Đ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń бы ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡Đ”Đ”Â». Â«ĐĄĐżĐ°ŃĐžĐ±ĐŸÂ», - Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃĐ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°, ŃĐŸĐłŃ€Đ”Ń‚Đ°Ń Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐč эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐž. Â«ĐĐ” Đ·Đ° Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸÂ», - Đ»ŃŽĐ±Đ”Đ·ĐœĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ эĐșĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒĐșĐ°. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ браĐș Đž был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ сĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐ°. ДажД бДз Ń‚ĐžŃ‚ŃƒĐ»Đ° Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‹ Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČрач, Đž ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ЎДлаДт Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč уĐČĐ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ”ĐŸĐżĐžĐČ ĐŒĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐșĐŸ, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° стаĐșĐ°Đœ ВоĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đž ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ Đș ĐČŃ‹Ń…ĐŸĐŽŃƒ. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ ĐČ ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽŃ‹Ń…Đ° ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Оз ĐŽĐŸĐŒĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°ĐœŃŒŃˆĐ”, ĐżĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ”Đč ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đčто ĐČ ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń†ĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Ń€. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ĐżĐŸĐŒĐ”Ń‰Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”ĐœŃĐžĐČĐœĐŸĐč тДрапОО. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ° ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐżĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДрОла ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ” ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž. Đ–Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸ-ĐżŃ€Đ”Đ¶ĐœĐ”ĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżĐ»ĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. ХДрЎцД ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž Đ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹Đ»ĐŸ. Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ страЎала ĐŸŃ‚ ŃĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč ĐœĐ”ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐșрОтОчДсĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐž. Đ•ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ¶ĐžĐ·ĐœŃŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń‚Đ”Ń€Đž была пДрДсаЎĐșĐ° сДрЎца, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ бы ĐČ Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐ” ŃĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐœĐžĐ”. ĐžŃĐœĐŸĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐżĐŸ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŸĐłĐ»Đ°ŃĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° браĐș, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń† ŃƒĐłŃ€ĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ» ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐłĐž, ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐŒŃ‹Đ” ĐŽĐ»Ń ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž. ĐąĐ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶, ĐșĐ°Đș Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń†, ĐČсё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ°Đčто ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŽĐŸĐœĐŸŃ€Đ° сДрЎца. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Đ±Ń€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŒĐșĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ: Â«ĐœĐ°ĐŒĐ°, я Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡Ńƒ. ĐŻ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń‰Đ°ŃŽÂ». Её ĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ была ŃĐ°ĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ блОзĐșĐžĐŒ Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒ, Дё глаĐČĐœĐŸĐč ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŽĐ”Ń€Đ¶ĐșĐŸĐč Đž ĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ‘Đ¶ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸĐŒ. ĐĐ”ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°ĐœĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”Ń„ĐŸĐœ Оз ĐșĐ°Ń€ĐŒĐ°ĐœĐ° Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐœĐ° Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș. Â«ĐœĐžĐ»Đ°, - Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ŃĐșĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ. - ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ты ĐŸĐșазала ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐŸĐŽĐœŃƒ услугу». ГлаĐČĐ° 3 Đ§Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹Đč ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ” ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ. ĐžĐœĐž ŃƒŃ‡ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐžŃ†ĐžĐœŃĐșĐŸĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД, Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœ был ĐœĐ° ĐŽĐČĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Ń€ŃˆĐ” Дё. Đ—Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸĐœ ŃƒĐ”Ń…Đ°Đ» Đ·Đ° ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŸĐ±ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, Đž Ń‚Đ”ĐżĐ”Ń€ŃŒ был ОзĐČĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ эĐșŃĐżĐ”Ń€Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐ”Đč ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚Đž. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐŸ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ”, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐœĐž былО ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ блОзĐșĐž. «О ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐč услугД оЮёт Ń€Đ”Ń‡ŃŒ?» - ĐżŃ€ŃĐŒĐŸ ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «У ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ°ŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐčся ĐČ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸŃĐČĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Đž я ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°ŃŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ Đ·Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ŃŃ‚ĐžĐŒ ĐČ Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ¶Đ°ĐčшДД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. ĐŸĐŸĐ¶Đ°Đ»ŃƒĐčста, ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒĐž ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»ĐŸÂ», - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Ń€Đ°ŃĐżĐžŃĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐĄĐ”ĐłĐŸĐŽĐœŃ у ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ЎДл ĐČ ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃĐ”, Đž, ДслО ĐœĐ” счотать ĐŽĐČух ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐč, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐ»Đ°ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐœŃ‹Ń… ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ, ĐŸĐœĐ° была праĐșтОчДсĐșĐž сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°. «Да, ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń‡ĐœĐŸ. КуЮа ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃŠĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. «Я ĐœĐ°ĐżĐžŃˆŃƒ тДбД аЎрДс. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€Ń‘ŃˆŃŒŃŃ туЮа, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ сĐșажО ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐșĐ°ĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты прОДхала Đș ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœŃƒ ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČу, Đž ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ĐŸ ĐČŃŃ‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃ‚ŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃŃŒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. «Ещё ĐșĐŸĐ”-Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ, - ĐŽĐŸĐ±Đ°ĐČОл Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐœ стал ŃĐ”Ń€ŃŒŃ‘Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. - НоĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐœĐ” ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€Đž Đž ĐœĐ” Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐ°Đč Đ»ĐžŃˆĐœĐžŃ… ĐČĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐŸĐČ. Всё, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ тДбД ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ‹Đ»Đ”Ń‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°Â». Â«ĐŻŃĐœĐŸ. ĐĐ” ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐœŃƒĐčŃŃÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐœĐž ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‰Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČала таĐșсО, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐŽĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ Đș ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ. ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐžĐ¶ĐœĐŸĐŒ раĐčĐŸĐœĐ”, Đ·Đ°ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°ĐŒĐž, ĐŸŃĐœĐ°Ń‰Ń‘ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ŃĐžŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒĐ°ĐŒĐž Đ±Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž ĐČŃ‹ŃŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐœŃ. КаĐș Đž ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, ĐœĐ° ĐČŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с ŃŃƒŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐč ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐŸĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ”ĐŽĐŸĐČала ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ†ĐžŃĐŒ Đž ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒŃĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐ° ĐšĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃˆĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČĐ°. ХЎДлаĐČ Đ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐŸĐș, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒĐ±Đ”ĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐČ ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐŽĐžĐČĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Дё ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČ, ĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐžĐș прОгласОл ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐČĐœŃƒŃ‚Ń€ŃŒ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° лДгĐșĐŸ ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸ ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐ”ĐœŃŒĐșĐ°ĐŒ Đž ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐœĐžĐ»Đ° ĐČ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ. ЧДрДз ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ сДĐșŃƒĐœĐŽ ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€Ń‹Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ. ĐšĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ сотуацоя ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ была ŃŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ. ĐžĐœĐž жЎалО Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ°, ĐœĐŸ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐ” ĐŸĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ·ĐČĐ°ĐœĐ°Ń ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃ. Â«ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚Đ”, ĐČы » - ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Из уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ужД сЎДлала ĐČыĐČĐŸĐŽ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚ Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ сĐČĐŸŃ‘ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ, Đž Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·Đ±Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ”ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đč, ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŸŃ‡Đ»Đ° Ń€Đ°Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐœĐ°ĐŽĐ”Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŒĐ°ŃĐșу. Đ‘Đ”Đ·ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ была ĐČ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚Đ”Ń‚Đ”. Â«Đ”ĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ”Ń…Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ сюЎа», - сĐșазала ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ĐœĐ° аптДчĐșу, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐœĐ° ЎДржала: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ?» «Да, ĐŽĐŸĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ Đ€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐșĐŸĐČ ĐŽĐ°Đ» ĐŒĐœĐ” ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșцоо. ĐŻ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ĐČсё ĐČ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐœŃ„ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐœĐ” пДрДЎал бы сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Ń‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐșŃ‚ĐŸ ĐœĐ” заслужОĐČаДт ĐŽĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐžŃ ОлО ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ”Ń‚Đ”ĐœŃ‚Đ”Đœ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ утĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ĐČĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČŃ‘Đ» Дё ĐŒĐžĐŒĐŸ Ń€ĐŸŃĐșĐŸŃˆĐœĐŸĐč ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœĐŸĐč, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДрх ĐżĐŸ Đ»Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžŃ†Đ” ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. В ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚Đ”ĐŒĐœĐŸ. «КаĐș я буЎу ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” бДз сĐČДта?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ВОталОĐč ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșĐžĐč ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ схĐČатОл сĐČĐŸĐč пОЎжаĐș Đž ĐœĐ°Ń‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° Đ»ĐžŃ†ĐŸ. «ВĐșлючО сĐČДт», - проĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒ тĐșĐ°ĐœŃŒ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ щёлĐșĐœŃƒĐ» ĐČыĐșĐ»ŃŽŃ‡Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»Đ”ĐŒ, Đž ĐșĐŸĐŒĐœĐ°Ń‚Ńƒ залОл ярĐșĐžĐč сĐČДт. ĐŸĐ”Ń€ĐČĐŸĐč ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»ŃŒŃŽ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ° был ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ·ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐŒŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐŒĐ°Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐŸŃ‚ этох ĐŒŃ‹ŃĐ»Đ”Đč. ĐžĐœĐ° уĐČОЎДла Ń‡Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐČĐ”ĐșĐ°, Đ»Đ”Đ¶Đ°Ń‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ° ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато, чья Đ±Đ”Đ»Đ°Ń ĐżĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ°Ń Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐ° была ĐČ ĐżŃŃ‚ĐœĐ°Ń… ĐŽĐ°ĐČĐœĐŸ Đ·Đ°ŃĐŸŃ…ŃˆĐ”Đč ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐČĐŽĐ°ĐČаться ĐČ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž Đž Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐŸŃŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ°Ń…. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° яĐČĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ĐČыЮаĐČать сĐČĐŸŃŽ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ уĐČажала Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ Đž ĐČДла ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу Đž ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșОД ĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐžŃ†Đ°ĐŒĐž разрДзала Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșу ĐżĐ°Ń†ĐžĐ”ĐœŃ‚Đ°, ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đ” былО ĐżĐŸĐșрыты Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐșĐžĐŒ ŃĐ»ĐŸĐ”ĐŒ ĐŒĐ°Ń€Đ»Đž. ĐžĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐČсё Đž, ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń†, уĐČОЎДла ĐŽĐČĐ” Đ·ĐžŃŃŽŃ‰ĐžĐ” Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° праĐČĐŸĐč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ŃĐ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»Đ° Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”, ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Đ°ĐČ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒĐž Đ»ĐŸĐČĐșĐžĐŒĐž руĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž. Всё ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč, Đ° Дё ĐŽĐČĐžĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ былО Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€Ń‹ĐŒĐž Đž ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”ĐșтоĐČĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. Â«Đ•ŃŃ‚ŃŒ лО у ĐČас Đ°Đ»Đ»Đ”Ń€ĐłĐžŃ ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžŃŽ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŸĐœĐ° чДрДз ĐœĐ”ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐ” ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. К счастью, Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹ былО ĐœĐ”ĐłĐ»ŃƒĐ±ĐŸĐșОД Đž ĐżĐŸĐČрДЎОлО Đ»ĐžŃˆŃŒ ĐœĐ”Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆŃƒŃŽ часть ĐșĐŸĐ¶Đž, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ” ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ†Đ”ŃŃ Ń‚Ń€Đ”Đ±ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž Ń‚ĐžŃ…ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ рДзĐșĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸ с Дё Đ±Đ”Đ·ŃƒĐŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ. ĐŸĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒŃƒ, ĐœĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐ±ĐŒĐ”Đœ ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž, ВОталОĐč ŃĐŸĐČŃĐ”ĐŒ ĐœĐ” ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ» Дё. Â«ĐĐ”Ń‚Â», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒ Ń…ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸ ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ĐČĐŸŃŃ…ĐČĐ°Đ»ŃŃ Дё ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐŒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżŃ€ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒĐżĐžĐ»Đ° Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐžŃŽ Đ°ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ”Đ·ĐžĐž, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐČĐČДла Дё ĐČ ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ°ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČĐŸĐșруг Ń€Đ°Đœ. Đ˜ĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃˆĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ¶ĐŽĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ пару ĐŒĐžĐœŃƒŃ‚, ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČОД прДпарата, ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°Đ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° шĐČы. ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐŒĐ”Ń€ĐœĐŸ чДрДз час ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Đ·Đ°ĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đ°. В Ń†Đ”Đ»ĐŸĐŒ, Đ»Đ”Ń‡Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸ Đž ŃƒŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐž ĐŸĐș**ĐČĐ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đ” руĐșĐž Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐœĐœĐ” ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃƒĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐœŃƒŃŽÂ». «Вы ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚Đ” ĐžŃĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·ĐŸĐČать ту, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·ŃƒÂ», - ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОл Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ. УбДЎОĐČшось, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° пДрĐČыĐč ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶, Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ Đ·Đ°Đșрыл ĐŽĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŒ Đž ĐżĐŸŃĐżĐ”ŃˆĐžĐ» Đș ВОталОю. «Я ŃƒĐ·ĐœĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±Đ°ĐœĐŽĐžŃ‚Ń‹, ĐœĐ°ĐżĐ°ĐČшОД ĐœĐ° ĐČас ĐČчДра, ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃĐ»Đ°ĐœŃ‹ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ, ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸŃ‚Ń‡Đ°ŃĐœĐœĐŸ Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń‚ ОзбаĐČоться ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČас, ĐŸŃĐŸĐ±Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸŃĐ»Đ” Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŸ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐČы ĐČычОслОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČ ĐČашДĐč ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐžÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč Đ·Đ°ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐœĐ°Đ» ĐŸŃ‚ Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đž, усажОĐČаясь, Đ° Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ Đș Đșраю ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐČато Đž ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» ĐœĐŸĐłĐž ĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐ». ĐžĐœ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽĐ”Đ» ŃĐ»Đ°Đ±Ń‹ĐŒ, ĐœĐŸ Đ”ĐłĐŸ глаза ĐČŃĐżŃ‹Ń…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đž ĐŸĐżĐ°ŃĐœŃ‹ĐŒ блДсĐșĐŸĐŒ. ĐœŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° пДрДĐČŃ‘Đ» ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐœĐ·ĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ ĐœĐ° сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŒĐŸŃ‰ĐœĐžĐșĐ°. «Эта Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃ‰ĐžĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ° ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐč я был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ, ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ”Ń‚ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐŸĐ”-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đș ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒŃƒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŸĐœ. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐ·ĐžĐ» ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ: Â«ĐĐ° ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐžĐŒ Ń‚Đ”ŃŃ‚Đ”ĐŒ, ĐœĐžŃ€ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐŒĐžĐ»ŃŃ ĐČыЮать сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŽĐŸŃ‡ŃŒ Đ·Đ°ĐŒŃƒĐ¶ Đ·Đ° Ń‡Đ»Đ”ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”ĐŒŃŒĐž ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČых, ĐœĐŸ, ĐżĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐ¶Đ”, ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐ°Ń‚Ń€ĐžĐČĐ°Đ» ĐČĐ°ŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșŃƒĐ·Đ”ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃŽ, ĐșĐ°Đș ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ…ĐŸĐŽŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐœĐŽĐžĐŽĐ°Ń‚Đ°. Đ”ĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒ ĐŽĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»ŃŃ с ĐœĐžĐŒÂ». Â«ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” пДрДстаёт ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ уЎОĐČĐ»ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐșажЎыĐč ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ. ĐĄ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐœŃ‹ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐœĐ” ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŒĐŸĐ»Ń‡Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐČ ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДт», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč. За ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ŃŃƒŃ‚ŃŃ‚ĐČоя Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ, ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐ” ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐ·ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸ ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ŃĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‚ĐžĐč, ĐČ ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Ń… был Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Đœ Đ˜Đ»ŃŒŃ. «Я ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ у Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ Đ·Đ°Ń…ŃƒĐŽĐ°Đ»Ń‹Đč бар "ĐšĐ°Ń€ĐŒ" ĐœĐ° ŃƒĐ»ĐžŃ†Đ” АрбатсĐșĐ°ŃÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ŃĐœŃƒĐ» ВОталОĐč. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐČсё ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ» с ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃƒŃĐ»ĐŸĐČĐ°. «Да, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу ŃˆĐżĐžĐŸĐœĐŸĐČ ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐœĐ°Đ»Đž Оз ĐșĐŸĐŒĐżĐ°ĐœĐžĐž, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ Đșлуб стал ох Đ”ĐŽĐžĐœŃŃ‚ĐČĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐžŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐ°, Đž ДслО Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ·Đ°ĐșŃ€ĐŸŃŽŃ‚, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŒ проЮётся ĐŽĐŸĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Ń‚ŃƒĐłĐŸÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Â«ĐŸĐŸĐŒĐŸĐłĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ВОталОĐč, Đž Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃ стал ĐœĐ° ĐŸĐșтаĐČу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”. Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»ĐŸĐč, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° спусĐșĐ°Đ»ŃŃ ĐČĐœĐžĐ·. ĐžĐœ ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶ĐžĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐžĐœŃŃ‚Ń€ŃƒĐșŃ‚ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу Đ·Đ°Ń€Đ°ĐœĐ”Đ”, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ» ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ Дё ĐœĐ°ĐżŃƒĐłĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ»Ń Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ„Ń„Đ”Đșта: «ЕслО ĐČы рассĐșажДтД ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ-ĐœĐžĐ±ŃƒĐŽŃŒ, ĐČас ĐœĐ°ŃŃ‚ĐžĐłĐœĐ”Ń‚ ŃƒĐ¶Đ°ŃĐœĐ°Ń ŃĐŒĐ”Ń€Ń‚ŃŒÂ», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ. ЕслО ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ… ĐŸ траĐČĐŒĐ°Ń… Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ ĐŽĐŸĐčЮёт ĐŽĐŸ ĐŃ€Ń‚Ń‘ĐŒĐ° ОлО Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‹ĐœĐ° Đ˜Đ»ŃŒĐž, ĐŸĐœĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃĐ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒŃ‚ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐżĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐ·Ńƒ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°: «Я ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœŃŽ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚Đ°ĐčĐœĐ”. ĐŻ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ·ŃŒĐŒŃƒ сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу Đž ĐœĐ”ĐŒĐ”ĐŽĐ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐŸ уĐčЎу». ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐżĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃŽ, Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±ĐœĐ°Ń€ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ, ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‰Đ”ĐłĐŸ у ĐŸĐșĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐŽĐČДрО. ĐžĐœ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃĐ» Đș ĐœĐ”Đč ŃĐżĐžĐœĐŸĐč, ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° Ń€Đ°ŃŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‚ŃŒ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃˆĐžŃ€ĐŸĐșОД плДчО Đž ĐŒŃƒŃĐșŃƒĐ»ĐžŃŃ‚ŃƒŃŽ ŃĐżĐžĐœŃƒ. Đ•ĐłĐŸ Ń‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒ, ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐžĐŽĐ”Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹ĐŒ. «Вы разĐČĐ” ĐœĐ” ушлО?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ŃĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ»ĐžĐČŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ. ĐžĐœ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ, ĐœĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐœŃĐ», Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€ĐžŃ‚ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”ĐłĐŸ. Đ’ĐŸĐ·ĐŒĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœ ĐżĐŸŃ‡ŃƒĐČстĐČĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё ĐłĐŸŃ€ŃŃ‡ĐžĐč ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ»Đ° ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу. КаĐș бы Đ”Đč ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°ĐČать, ĐœĐŸ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐžĐœŃ‚Đ”Ń€Đ”ŃĐŸĐČĐ°Đ» Дё. ГлаĐČĐ° 4 ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČу, Ń‚ĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐżĐ»ĐžĐČĐŸ ĐČĐ·ŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ аптДчĐșу. ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃŃ‚ĐžĐČ ĐłĐŸŃ€Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° Ўала ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ” ĐœĐ”ŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ уĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°ĐœĐžĐč. КаĐș бы Ń‚Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐž Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČсё жД была ĐČŃ€Đ°Ń‡ĐŸĐŒ. Â«Đ’Đ°ĐŒ ĐœĐ”Đ»ŃŒĐ·Ń ĐżĐŸĐșĐ° ĐŒĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сĐČĐŸĐž Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹. Đ”Đ”Đ·ĐžĐœŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžŃ€ŃƒĐčŃ‚Đ” ох раз ĐČ ĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒ Đž ĐœĐŸŃĐžŃ‚Đ” сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœŃ‹Đ” Ń€ŃƒĐ±Đ°ŃˆĐșĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐœĐ” Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŽŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹Â». ĐžĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČОла Đ±ŃƒŃ‚Ń‹Đ»ĐŸŃ‡Đșу с таблДтĐșĐ°ĐŒĐž Đž тюбОĐș с ĐŒĐ°Đ·ŃŒŃŽ ĐœĐ° Ń‚ŃƒĐŒĐ±ĐŸŃ‡Đșу. «Я ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐČĐ°ĐŒ это лДĐșарстĐČа». ВОталОĐč Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ-Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ» ĐČ Đ·ĐœĐ°Đș ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° Ń‚ĐŸĐ¶Đ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” сĐșазала Đž ŃŃ€Đ°Đ·Ńƒ жД ĐżĐŸĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐ»Đ° ĐČОллу. ĐšĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ńƒ, Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ужД ĐżĐŸŃ‡Ń‚Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœĐœĐ°ĐŽŃ†Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐœŃ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐČую, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ пДрДĐșусоть. ЕЮĐČĐ° ŃƒŃŃ‚Ń€ĐŸĐžĐČшось Đ·Đ° сĐČĐŸĐžĐŒ ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐŒ, Дё ĐČŃ‹Đ·ĐČалО ĐČ ĐșĐ°Đ±ĐžĐœĐ”Ń‚ глаĐČĐČрача. «Я ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»ŃŃŽ ĐŻĐœŃƒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșу», - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» глаĐČĐČрач Ń‚ĐŸĐœĐŸĐŒ, ĐœĐ” Ń‚Đ”Ń€ĐżŃŃ‰ĐžĐŒ ĐČĐŸĐ·Ń€Đ°Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐč. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° была ĐżĐŸŃ‚Ń€ŃŃĐ”ĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: Â«ĐĐŸ я ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČы ужД Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČоть ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ?» Â«ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, я уĐČĐ”Ń€Đ”Đœ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ты Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČсё ĐČŃ‹ŃĐŸĐșĐŸŃ‚Đ”Ń…ĐœĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐłĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ŃƒĐŽĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐžĐ” ĐœĐ°ŃˆĐ”Đč Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹ ŃĐżĐŸĐœŃĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐ°Đ»ĐŸŃŃŒ ĐșĐŸŃ€ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐ”Đč "ĐŸĐ°Ń€Đ°ĐŒĐ°ŃƒĐœŃ‚". ĐŸŃ€Đ”Đ·ĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐĐŸĐČĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ”. ĐŻ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłŃƒ ĐżĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сДбД ĐżĐŸĐčто ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ‚ĐžĐČ Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐŸĐ»ĐžÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃ‰Đ”Ń‚ĐžĐœĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ про ŃƒĐżĐŸĐŒĐžĐœĐ°ĐœĐžĐž ĐžĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. Đ„ĐŸŃ‚Ń ĐŸĐœĐž Đž былО ĐŸŃ„ĐžŃ†ĐžĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐ°Ń‚Ń‹, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐČŃŃ‚Ń€Đ”Ń‡Đ°Đ»ĐžŃŃŒ. ĐžĐœĐ° ĐČОЎДла ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃƒ Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ ĐČ Đ¶ŃƒŃ€ĐœĐ°Đ»Đ°Ń… Đž ĐžĐœĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐČ ĐœĐŸĐČĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ… ĐżĐŸ тДлДĐČĐžĐ·ĐŸŃ€Ńƒ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, ĐŸĐœ Đž ĐŻĐœĐ°? ХДрЎцД ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ń‹ ёĐșĐœŃƒĐ»ĐŸ, ĐœĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČĐ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœĐŸĐč. Â«Đ’ĐŸŃ‚ ĐșĐ°Đș?» «Да, Đ±ĐŸŃŽŃŃŒ, у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ сĐČŃĐ·Đ°ĐœŃ‹ руĐșĐž. ĐŸĐŸŃĐ»ŃƒŃˆĐ°Đč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐŒŃ‹ ĐŸĐ±Đ° Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”ĐŒ ĐŸ тĐČĐŸĐžŃ… ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŃ…, ĐœĐŸ...» - глаĐČĐČрач Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ» ŃƒŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșу, ĐœĐŸ ĐœĐ” Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČŃ‹ĐŽĐ”Đ»ŃĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ срДЎО сĐČĐŸĐžŃ… сĐČĐ”Ń€ŃŃ‚ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐČ Đ±Đ»Đ°ĐłĐŸĐŽĐ°Ń€Ń ĐœĐ”ĐČĐ”Ń€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐŒŃƒ Ń‚Đ°Đ»Đ°ĐœŃ‚Ńƒ Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃ„Đ”ŃŃĐžĐŸĐœĐ°Đ»ŃŒĐœĐŸĐč этоĐșĐ”. ГлаĐČĐČрач Ń†Đ”ĐœĐžĐ» Дё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐČсДх ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Ń…. «Я ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ŃŽÂ», - ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±ĐŸŃ€ĐŒĐŸŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° сДбД ĐżĐŸĐŽ ĐœĐŸŃ. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ»Đ° сДбД, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐ° была ĐœĐ” ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐž, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ расстраоĐČаться Оз-Đ·Đ° ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃˆĐ°Ń‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ° Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžŃ. ĐžĐœ был ĐČŃ‹ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐŽĐ”Đœ Đ¶Đ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐœĐ° ĐœĐ”Đč, Đž, ДстДстĐČĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ, ĐŸĐœĐ° ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐłĐ»Đ° рассчотыĐČать ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ Đ·Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐŸ ĐœĐ”Đč. Â«ĐœĐœĐ” Дщё ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ ĐżĐŸĐŽĐłĐŸŃ‚ĐŸĐČоться Đș ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžĐž, таĐș Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ я ĐżĐŸĐčЎу», - ŃĐŒĐžŃ€Đ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ сĐșазала ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ°. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐœĐžĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐœĐ” ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”Ń‚ ŃĐŽĐ”Đ»Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐžĐ·ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ сотуацою. ГлаĐČĐČрач ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐŽĐŸŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ» Đž ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”Đ», ĐșĐ°Đș ĐŸĐœĐ° ŃƒŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° с ŃĐœŃ‚ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ°Đ·ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ·ĐžĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐČ Ń€Đ°Đ±ĐŸŃ‚Ńƒ, пытаясь ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Ń‚ŃŒ ĐŸ ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ¶ĐžŃ€ĐŸĐČĐșĐ”. ĐžĐœĐ° бДз Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐžĐœĐșĐž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐČДла сĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐČŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ŃƒŃŽ ĐŸĐżĐ”Ń€Đ°Ń†ĐžŃŽ, Đ·Đ°Ń‚Đ”ĐŒ ŃĐœŃĐ»Đ° сĐČĐŸŃŽ Ń…ĐžŃ€ŃƒŃ€ĐłĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșую Ń„ĐŸŃ€ĐŒŃƒ Đž, ĐżĐŸŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Đ”ĐČ ĐČĐČДрх, ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ ĐżĐ»ŃŽŃ…ĐœŃƒĐ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐ». Đ˜ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐœĐŸ ĐČ ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚ ĐČ ĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžĐœŃƒŃŽ ĐČĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐŻĐœĐ° Đž сĐșазала: «ЗЎраĐČстĐČуĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, - ĐżĐŸĐżŃ€ĐžĐČДтстĐČĐŸĐČала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ярĐșĐŸ ŃƒĐ»Ń‹Đ±Đ°ŃŃŃŒ. - бы сĐČĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐŽĐœĐ° ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ? ĐŸĐŸĐ·ĐČĐŸĐ»ŃŒ ŃƒĐłĐŸŃŃ‚ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‚Đ”Đ±Ń ŃƒĐ¶ĐžĐœĐŸĐŒÂ». «ИзĐČĐžĐœĐž, ĐœĐŸ у ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ Đ”ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ЎДла, с ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹ĐŒĐž ĐœŃƒĐ¶ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐŸĐ±Ń€Đ°Ń‚ŃŒŃŃ ĐżĐŸĐ·Đ¶Đ”Â», - ĐČДжлОĐČĐŸ ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ДДĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” была ĐČ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐžŃ… ĐŸŃ‚ĐœĐŸŃˆĐ”ĐœĐžŃŃ… с ĐŻĐœĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐž былО ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž, Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐżĐŸĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐ°ĐŒĐž. ОбД ĐŸĐșĐŸĐœŃ‡ĐžĐ»Đž ĐŸĐŽĐžĐœ Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ жД ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДт ĐČ ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸ Đž Ń‚ĐŸ жД ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒŃ. Ещё Ń‚ĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° была Ń‚ĐŸĐč Дщё штучĐșĐŸĐč. ĐžĐœĐ° была ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ°ĐŒĐ±ĐžŃ†ĐžĐŸĐ·ĐœĐŸĐč Đž ĐČсДгЎа Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° ĐżĐŸĐșŃ€Đ°ŃĐŸĐČаться Đž проĐČлДĐșать ĐČŃĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”Đ” ĐČĐœĐžĐŒĐ°ĐœĐžĐ”. ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°, ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸŃŽ ĐŸŃ‡Đ”Ń€Đ”ĐŽŃŒ, ĐżŃ€Đ”ĐŽĐżĐŸŃ‡ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ°ĐČаться ĐœĐ”Đ·Đ°ĐŒĐ”Ń‚ĐœĐŸĐč Đž была ĐżĐŸĐłŃ€ŃƒĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐ° ĐČ ŃĐČĐŸĐž ĐșĐœĐžĐłĐž. ĐœĐŸĐ¶ĐœĐŸ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Ń‚ŃŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐž былО Đ°Đ±ŃĐŸĐ»ŃŽŃ‚ĐœĐŸ Ń€Đ°Đ·ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž. ĐŸĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐœĐŸĐ” ĐŽĐ”Đ»ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŸĐœĐž ĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Ń…ĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐŸ лаЎОлО. «О, ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, - сĐșазала ĐŻĐœĐ°, ĐČŃ‹ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐżĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐŒŃƒ-Ń‚ĐŸ ŃĐŒŃƒŃ‰Ń‘ĐœĐœĐŸĐč. - Đ’ĐŸĐŸĐ±Ń‰Đ”-Ń‚ĐŸ я Ń…ĐŸŃ‚Đ”Đ»Đ° с Ń‚ĐŸĐ±ĐŸĐč ĐșĐŸĐ” ĐŸ Ń‡Ń‘ĐŒ ĐżĐŸĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžŃ‚ŃŒÂ». ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐČстала Đž ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș сĐČĐŸĐ”ĐŒŃƒ шĐșафчоĐșу, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐżĐŸĐČĐ”ŃĐžŃ‚ŃŒ халат. Â«Đ“ĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžÂ», - сĐșазала ĐŸĐœĐ°, ĐœĐ” ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽŃ ĐœĐ° ĐŻĐœŃƒ. ĐąĐŸŃ‚ фаĐșт, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ Дё ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐ° таĐș ОлО ĐžĐœĐ°Ń‡Đ” сĐČŃĐ·Đ°Đ»Đ°ŃŃŒ с Đ’ĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐžĐ”ĐŒ, Дщё Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒŃˆĐ” ĐŸŃ‚ĐŽĐ°Đ»ĐžĐ» ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Ńƒ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŻĐœŃ‹. «йы, ĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐœĐŸ Đ±Ń‹Ń‚ŃŒ, ŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ»Đ°, ĐŽĐ°? ĐœĐœĐ” ĐŸŃ‡Đ”ĐœŃŒ Đ¶Đ°Đ»ŃŒ. ĐŻ ĐżĐŸĐœŃŃ‚ĐžŃ ĐœĐ” ĐžĐŒĐ”Đ»Đ°, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ЎОрДĐșŃ‚ĐŸŃ€â€ŠÂ» «Всё ĐČ ĐżĐŸŃ€ŃĐŽĐșД», - пДрДбОла ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ°. ĐžĐŽĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸ ĐŻĐœĐ° Дщё ĐœĐ” ĐČсё сĐșазала Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžĐ»Đ°: «И Дщё, ĐŒĐŸĐ¶Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ŃĐŸŃ…Ń€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‚ŃŒ ĐČ ŃĐ”ĐșрДтД Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐČчДра ĐČĐ”Ń‡Đ”Ń€ĐŸĐŒ ты ĐČŃ‹ŃˆĐ»Đ° ĐœĐ° ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐČĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ? Đ—ĐœĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ, ĐżĐŸŃĐșĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșу я ŃĐŸĐ±ĐžŃ€Đ°ŃŽŃŃŒ ĐČ ĐŠĐ”ĐœŃ‚Ń€Đ°Đ»ŃŒĐœŃ‹Đč ĐČĐŸĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹Đč ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐžŃ‚Đ°Đ»ŃŒ, я ĐœĐ” Ń…ĐŸŃ‡Ńƒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃŃ‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ‡ĐžĐœĐžĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°ĐșОД-Đ»ĐžĐ±ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐ±Đ»Đ”ĐŒŃ‹Â». ĐĐ”ŃĐŒĐŸŃ‚Ń€Ń ĐœĐ° Ń‚ĐŸ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃŃŒĐ±Đ° ĐŻĐœŃ‹ была ĐœĐ”ĐŸĐ±Ń‹Ń‡ĐœĐŸĐč, ĐšĐ°ĐŒĐžĐ»Đ»Đ° ĐœĐ” ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ»Đ° ĐŸĐ± ŃŃ‚ĐŸĐŒ Đž ĐŸŃ‚ĐČДтОла: «Я ĐœĐžĐșĐŸĐŒŃƒ ĐœĐ” сĐșажу». В Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐŒ ŃĐ»ŃƒŃ‡Đ°Đ”, ĐœĐ” Đ±Ń‹Đ»ĐŸ ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐłĐŸ ŃŃ‚Ń€Đ°ĐœĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸĐŒ, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ĐČĐ·ŃŃ‚ŃŒ ĐœĐ° ŃĐ”Đ±Ń ŃĐŒĐ”ĐœŃƒ ĐșĐŸĐ»Đ»Đ”ĐłĐž. Đ’Ń€Đ”ĐŒŃ ĐŸŃ‚ ĐČŃ€Đ”ĐŒĐ”ĐœĐž ĐžĐŒ ĐżŃ€ĐžŃ…ĐŸĐŽĐžĐ»ĐŸŃŃŒ сталĐșĐžĐČаться с Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž чрДзĐČычаĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž ĐŸĐ±ŃŃ‚ĐŸŃŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°ĐŒĐž. На Ń‚Đ”Ń€Ń€ĐžŃ‚ĐŸŃ€ĐžĐž Đ±ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐœĐžŃ†Ń‹. Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ сОЎДл ĐœĐ° Đ·Đ°ĐŽĐœĐ”ĐŒ ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒĐ” ĐŽĐŸŃ€ĐŸĐłĐŸĐč Ń‡Ń‘Ń€ĐœĐŸĐč ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœŃ‹, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Đ°Ń была пропарĐșĐŸĐČĐ°ĐœĐ° у ĐČĐŸŃ€ĐŸŃ‚. Â«ĐŃƒ, - сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ» ĐŸĐœ ĐłĐŸĐ»ĐŸŃĐŸĐŒ, ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐżĐŸĐ»ĐœĐ”ĐœĐœŃ‹ĐŒ ĐłĐŸŃ€ĐŽĐŸŃŃ‚ŃŒŃŽ, - Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸ ĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ”ŃˆŃŒ ĐŸ ĐŒĐŸĐ”Đč ŃƒŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐžŃ†Đ”? ĐŁ ĐœĐ”Ń‘ ĐŸŃ‚Đ»ĐžŃ‡ĐœŃ‹Đ” ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚Đž, ĐœĐ” таĐș лО?» Đ ŃĐŽĐŸĐŒ с ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐŸĐč сОЎДл ВОталОĐč, ĐŸŃ‚ĐșĐžĐœŃƒĐČшось ĐœĐ° ŃĐżĐžĐœĐșу ŃĐžĐŽĐ”ĐœŃŒŃ. ĐžĐœ ŃĐœĐŸĐČĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽŃƒĐŒĐ°Đ» ĐŸ ĐČрачД, ĐșĐŸŃ‚ĐŸŃ€Ń‹Đč лДчОл Đ”ĐłĐŸ, Đž ĐČŃĐżĐŸĐŒĐœĐžĐ», ĐșĐ°ĐșĐžĐŒĐž ŃĐżĐŸĐșĐŸĐčĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž Đž Ń‚ĐŸŃ‡ĐœŃ‹ĐŒĐž былО Дё ĐŽĐ”ĐčстĐČоя. На ŃĐ°ĐŒĐŸĐŒ ЎДлД, ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœĐ° был ĐżĐŸŃ€Đ°Đ¶Đ”Đœ Дё ŃĐżĐŸŃĐŸĐ±ĐœĐŸŃŃ‚ŃĐŒĐž. Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ĐłĐŸŃĐżĐŸĐ¶Đ° Đ’ĐŸĐ»ĐșĐŸĐČа», - ĐČЮруг Đ·Đ°ĐłĐŸĐČĐŸŃ€ĐžĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. ВОталОĐč ĐŸĐżŃƒŃŃ‚ĐžĐ» стДĐșĐ»ĐŸ ĐșĐ°Đș раз ĐČ Ń‚ĐŸŃ‚ ĐŒĐŸĐŒĐ”ĐœŃ‚, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŻĐœĐ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐŸŃˆĐ»Đ° Đș ĐŒĐ°ŃˆĐžĐœĐ”. Đ‘Ń€ĐŸĐČĐž Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€Đ° ĐżĐŸĐŽĐœŃĐ»ĐžŃŃŒ, Đž ĐŸĐœ сĐșĐ°Đ·Đ°Đ»: Â«ĐŻĐœĐ°?» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ ĐŸĐ±Đ”Ń€ĐœŃƒĐ»ŃŃ с ĐČĐŸĐŽĐžŃ‚Đ”Đ»ŃŒŃĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒĐ”ŃŃ‚Đ° Đž ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ»: «Вы Đ·ĐœĐ°Đ”Ń‚Đ” Дё?» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€ ĐșĐžĐČĐœŃƒĐ», Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ заблДстДл ĐŸŃ‚ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ŃŃ‚ĐČĐ°. Â«ĐžĐœĐ° была ŃŃ‚ŃƒĐŽĐ”ĐœŃ‚ĐșĐŸĐč ĐœĐ° ĐłĐŸĐŽ ĐŒĐ»Đ°ĐŽŃˆĐ” ĐČ ĐŒĐŸŃ‘ĐŒ ŃƒĐœĐžĐČДрсОтДтД». ВОталОю ŃŃ‚Đ°Đ»ĐŸ Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐżŃ‹Ń‚ĐœĐŸ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸĐœ ŃƒŃĐ»Ń‹ŃˆĐ°Đ» ŃŃ‚ĐŸ. Đ—ĐœĐ°Ń‡ĐžŃ‚, эта ĐŽĐ”ĐČушĐșĐ° ĐœĐ” Ń‚ĐŸĐ»ŃŒĐșĐŸ спасла Đ”ĐłĐŸ ĐżŃ€ĐŸŃˆĐ»ĐŸĐč ĐœĐŸŃ‡ŃŒŃŽ, ĐœĐŸ Đž залДчОла Đ”ĐłĐŸ Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ‹? Â«Đ­Ń‚ĐŸ ŃŃƒĐŽŃŒĐ±Đ°?» - ĐČĐŸŃĐșлОĐșĐœŃƒĐ» Đ”Đ”ĐœĐžŃ. Đ’ŃĐ”Đ»Đ”ĐœĐœĐ°Ń ĐœĐ°ĐșĐŸĐœĐ”Ń† Ń€Đ”ŃˆĐžĐ»Đ° Юать Đ”ĐłĐŸ Đ±ĐŸŃŃŃƒ ŃˆĐ°ĐœŃ ĐœĐ° Đ»ŃŽĐ±ĐŸĐČь? «КаĐșĐŸĐłĐŸ чёрта ты ĐœĐ”ŃŃ‘ŃˆŃŒ?» - ŃĐżŃ€ĐŸŃĐžĐ» Đ€Ń‘ĐŽĐŸŃ€, ĐœĐ°Ń…ĐŒŃƒŃ€ĐžĐČшось, пДрДĐČĐŸĐŽŃ ĐČĐ·ĐłĐ»ŃĐŽ с ĐŸĐŽĐœĐŸĐłĐŸ ĐŒŃƒĐ¶Ń‡ĐžĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐŽŃ€ŃƒĐłĐŸĐłĐŸ. ...... Đ§Ń‚ĐŸ Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚ ĐŽĐ°Đ»ŃŒŃˆĐ”? ĐšĐŸĐ»ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃŃ‚ĐČĐŸ глаĐČ Đ·ĐŽĐ”ŃŃŒ ĐŸĐłŃ€Đ°ĐœĐžŃ‡Đ”ĐœĐŸ, ĐœĐ°Đ¶ĐŒĐžŃ‚Đ” ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐŸĐżĐșу ĐœĐžĐ¶Đ”, Ń‡Ń‚ĐŸĐ±Ń‹ ŃƒŃŃ‚Đ°ĐœĐŸĐČоть ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đž ĐżŃ€ĐŸĐŽĐŸĐ»Đ¶ĐžŃ‚ŃŒ Ń‡Ń‚Đ”ĐœĐžĐ” Đ±ĐŸĐ»Đ”Đ” Đ·Đ°Ń…ĐČатыĐČающох глаĐČ! (Вы Đ±ŃƒĐŽĐ”Ń‚Đ” Đ°ĐČŃ‚ĐŸĐŒĐ°Ń‚ĐžŃ‡Đ”ŃĐșĐž ĐżĐ”Ń€Đ”ĐœĐ°ĐżŃ€Đ°ĐČĐ»Đ”ĐœŃ‹ ĐœĐ° ĐșĐœĐžĐłŃƒ, ĐșĐŸĐłĐŽĐ° ĐŸŃ‚ĐșŃ€ĐŸĐ”Ń‚Đ” ĐżŃ€ĐžĐ»ĐŸĐ¶Đ”ĐœĐžĐ”) &9& LEARN_MORE https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- Lime novel https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ 862 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=y-GSKFm2hvYQ7kNvgEA_Cs3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AAaB7joY46gebSO6HLsFiOo&oh=00_AYBGTPcJOXiHiKQoYGXcvz9N-EM_ojXLJNUoWJaAh7SCqw&oe=6745BC7B PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Lime novel 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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Yes 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 â€ïžđŸ˜ click to read on 👉 Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancĂ©e, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancĂ©e?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again. LEARN_MORE https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u Happyday https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ 1,406 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=15430&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/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=z0wOOR6zWdwQ7kNvgE8vRZP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYAhHpiaz-NgnmZwYJEC_os4B7Xnxs5CoPz05xHTl_I_JA&oe=67459AB4 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Happyday 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ “Strip.” The one who commanded me was the very man I had loved. “Didn't you hear me? I said strip.” My husband, Caleb repeated, a smirk on his li-ps. I lowered my head, my hands trembling. Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as I gingerly stepped backwards, subconsciously trying to run away. “Stop her and help her remove her clothes if she doesn't want to do it herself.” 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. “Why?” I asked, “Why are you doing this to me?” My throat constricted. “Why?” Caleb tilted his head, “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!” 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 realized what he wanted to do. “Caleb, please, you know I can't drink that. I beg you, please let me go. Please.” I begged, but it was to no avail. My vision blurred as I choked, gasping for air in between sobs. “Wasn't that good enough?” Caleb questioned, “Now that wasn't so bad after all.” “Caleb
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” 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. My baby... “C
 Caleb
 My
 my stomach. It hurts.” 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. “No. No!” I cried out as I realized exactly what was happening. I looked back at Caleb who knew that I was having a miscar-riage, 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. Then the world turned black. --------- “Ah!” I gasped, shaking awake. “You shouldn't move like that, you'll open your stitches.”The one with shorter hair and gold rimmed glasses said to me. “It’s...you..” I stammered, all the cells in my body were screaming. Zade Silver, my ex boyfriend. LEARN_MORE https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15016&u Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 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/t39.35426-6/464386892_875816577950735_1493325207616159379_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LxGTqTGiLZEQ7kNvgHwyZoH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYDYkeZyFDwL0VX1gAmznx8cCA_RVyz8nY2A_BcbD-Mxag&oe=6745A09D PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 😍Read the next chapters👉 Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However
 "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were
 I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. 
 Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. 
 At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but
" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. LEARN_MORE https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ 21 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 0 0 0 0 0 0 Learn More 0 beokn.com DCO https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} 1969-12-31 18:00 https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=m4cMYFOfafAQ7kNvgH5epOE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYB9Ze6CxxrYvVbVDJnoldE9qb_n2IGqomaKzDDKuIJ0FA&oe=6745A2BB PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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No 2024-11-21 19:36 active 1905 0 🔞Attention! Do not read in publicïŒđŸ‘‰ "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." I stared coldly at my general husband, Barrett Warren, whom I'd waited for a whole year, and questioned, "Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war? huh?" On our wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted my veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Yet the first thing he did after returning from war was marry his new love!... LEARN_MORE https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& Random Reading https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ 321 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/t39.35426-6/464949906_1070244474482905_4103505327237725079_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n08esfEligYQ7kNvgGNG_cF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYCvY1NuChWmHvWAcTjKfHhNFn-y0-edj4BzDxfRYmjygQ&oe=6745B328 PERSON_PROFILE 0 0 0 Random Reading 0 0 1969-12-31 18:00 View Edit
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