Betrayal. The Wrong Decision
6 hrs. 36 min.
“Who are you?” I ask the stranger at the door.
“I need to talk to Vyacheslav Osipov.”
I go numb when her husband’s name slips from her lips.
“You need my husband?”
The girl looks at me, widening her big eyes.
“Sorry… I’m very sorry. I would never… never come if I had a choice… But we need help.”
“Help? Who do you need it from?”
From the corner, the girl leads a boy. About nine to ten years old. And it’s not about age. It’s because I see Slava in him. A young, completely boy—there can be no mistake.
“We need help from your husband for my son,” she says, through the veil of noise created by my addled heart.
“I need to talk to Vyacheslav Osipov.”
I go numb when her husband’s name slips from her lips.
“You need my husband?”
The girl looks at me, widening her big eyes.
“Sorry… I’m very sorry. I would never… never come if I had a choice… But we need help.”
“Help? Who do you need it from?”
From the corner, the girl leads a boy. About nine to ten years old. And it’s not about age. It’s because I see Slava in him. A young, completely boy—there can be no mistake.
“We need help from your husband for my son,” she says, through the veil of noise created by my addled heart.
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