When she looked at him, he was ready for any crazy things. When he was near, she finally dropped her mask and allowed herself to be weak. But fate—almost on purpose—kept pushing them farther and farther apart. Him into the cauldron of brutal war, her into the middle of complicated events and gang fights. Their partings are endless, and their meetings are rare, like life-giving rain in a drought.
But the most important thing for each of them is to know that the other exists in this world—that he is still alive. “Please, just live! Far away, wounded, with a mutilated soul—whatever happens, just live!”
“—Lord, Levka,” she breathed out. “And why do you need all this? Why do you fuss with me forever?”
“Well, well, don’t provoke me into lying confessions,” he joked back. “I’m just a little less disgusted with you than with the rest of the world. Almost all of it.”