For the first time, Ruslan saw his childhood friend. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, realizing that this was not a dream.

With a trembling voice, Rimma broke the silence:

"Ruslan, are you okay?"

"I can see! I can see you, Rimma! So it wasn’t just a dream!" he exclaimed, overwhelmed with emotion.

"Is it really true?" Rimma whispered, hugging him tightly, unable to hold back her tears.

Tears of joy.

Ruslan was immensely happy, yet at the same time, he felt a heavy weight inside him. His sight had returned so suddenly, turning his entire world upside down. How was he supposed to cope with this? What was he supposed to do now?

But the most painful thought was that he had never seen his parents while they were alive. He would have given anything for them to be here with him now. And yet, even if this gift had come at the cost of their lives, he would not have wanted it. This newfound happiness of seeing felt bittersweet. His thoughts were interrupted by Rimma’s voice:

"You know, I’m really hungry. Do you have anything to eat?"

"Of course," Ruslan smiled. "We could use a snack."

As they headed downstairs, he gazed around his house in amazement. He had lived here for years, but he was seeing it for the first time. Everything seemed incredibly fascinating. Walking down the hallway, he suddenly recoiled in shock—his own reflection stared back at him from a mirror. Stunned, he stared at it for a long time, unable to believe his eyes. Rimma laughed.

"Ruslan, it’s just a mirror. It reflects you. Look, here’s my reflection too. See?"

"This is incredible… The world is so much more wonderful than I ever imagined," he said in awe.

"Yes, and you have so many more discoveries ahead of you. But don’t worry, I’m here with you. Want me to give you a little tour of the house?" Rimma offered.

Ruslan nodded eagerly, finally tearing his eyes away from the mesmerizing mirror. Downstairs, he prepared sandwiches with familiar motions—but now, for the first time, he could see what he was doing. The colors, the shapes—everything amazed him. Then, a little embarrassed, he glanced back at Rimma. She was incredibly beautiful.

"Ruslan, stop staring at me like that," Rimma blushed.

"Sorry, it’s just… I’m seeing you for the first time. Before, I only knew your voice… You’re so beautiful… And you’ve been so kind to me… Thank you for everything," he whispered.

"Don’t thank me. You don’t have to," Rimma smiled. "We’re friends, and friends help each other. Right?"

"Of course," Ruslan replied warmly.

"By the way, thanks for the compliment," Rimma teased. "That was nice."

"And now you’re thanking me," Ruslan smirked.

"In my case, it’s only natural. So, are we going?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, of course."

"Then let’s go!"

They spent almost the entire night wandering around the house, exploring every little corner. Ruslan was experiencing emotions that only a blind person, suddenly able to see, could understand. At one point, Rimma noticed something.

"Ruslan, there isn’t a single family photo in your house…"

He thought for a moment, then said:

"Even though I’ve never seen a photograph before, I clearly remember taking pictures with my parents. That means they must be somewhere."

"I wonder where they could have gone? Where haven’t we looked yet?" Rimma pondered. Then her face lit up with realization. "Wait! We haven’t checked the attic! I’m sure we’ll find something there!"

"You think so?" Ruslan asked doubtfully.

"Yes! My parents’ attic is full of old things—that’s how most people store stuff. Maybe your mother kept something important up there too,"