“I’m here, sweetheart,” the woman replied softly, running her hand through Victoria’s hair again. “Everything will be all right.”

“Protect me, Mama,” she pleaded, suddenly feeling like a little girl.

“Of course, my darling. No one will ever hurt you again,” the woman promised.

Victoria whispered, “Thank you,” and tears slid slowly from her closed eyes.

When she opened them a little while later, the warmth and safety hadn’t faded. It wasn’t a dream. One eye barely opened, she took in her surroundings. Pink curtains. A table with a white cloth. Flowers. She looked down and slowly lifted a hand to touch her body. She was lying in bed, wrapped in bandages.

Even her head was wrapped. Where was she? A woman approached her, smiling warmly.

“Well, hello there, sweetheart!” she said in the same kind voice Victoria had just heard in her dream. She looked a little different now—but still just as kind.

“Hello,” Victoria said softly.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“No. I feel really good. Thank you,” Victoria replied, realizing she was no longer in pain. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home, in the village. I’m a healer. I’m taking care of you, Victoria,” the woman answered, then introduced herself. “You can call me Aunt Masha.”

She smiled again and stroked Victoria’s hair.

“Thank you, Aunt Masha. How did you find me?”

“Some folks from our village found you. You were unconscious by the lake—on the Sorrowful Shore.”

“Yes, I remember,” Victoria said, closing her eyes.

The horror she’d been through rushed back into her mind, making her stomach twist. Repeating the name Sorrowful Shore, she realized she’d heard of it before. They often found drowning victims there.

Dear God… I almost joined them.

“Everything will be fine,” Aunt Masha said again, gently stroking her. “We’ll nurse you back to health. You’ve got broken ribs and a concussion—but I’ll heal you. Don’t worry. I’ve treated worse.”

“You’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you, Aunt Masha,” Victoria whispered, her voice trembling.

Three days later, Lana came to the factory and headed straight for the director’s office.

“I already told you—Viktoriya Sokolova quit and left for Moscow,” said Pyotr Vladimirovich without looking her in the eye, clearly eager to get away.

“That’s impossible!” Lana protested. “She would’ve told me. How could she quit—she’s doing her internship here! She needs to get her diploma!”

“Lana, when you find her, ask her yourself. What do you want from me?” he snapped, then stormed off.

Lana stood there with her mouth open in shock. Then she went to the dormitory. Her old room was already occupied by other girls. Viktoriya’s things were gone. They said some guy had come and taken everything. Oh my God, she thought. What if she found out the truth? What if Robert’s lying about the accident and something serious happened?! What if that’s why she left without saying goodbye?! Lana sat down on the dorm steps and covered her face with her hands. What have I done?!

When she came to Robert with questions, he answered calmly that she was mistaken.

Yes, they’d had a fight—actually, they had decided to break up—but it had nothing to do with Lana. Viktoriya had admitted everything, and they went their separate ways. That was all. He added that he didn’t want to hear about her anymore. They were standing on the landing of his building; he hadn’t invited her in, just stepped out.

“She quit the factory and left, Robert,” Lana said, standing on the first step of the second floor where his apartment was.

His jaw clenched—but he said nothing. Then, quietly, he said goodbye and went back inside. He hadn’t asked where she went. Why should he? He’d been told not to look for her, which meant she wasn’t alone. She was with him. Let them both go to hell! That bitch!!!