— What would happen to her? She’s waiting for me, — Shura lied, not wanting to upset the girl with the dog’s sad fate. — I promised her that someday we’d leave this pack. To a place where you don’t have to fight for every scrap and where no one bites you just for existing, — the girl said dreamily.
Around midnight, the door to the nursery creaked open almost silently. The tall silhouette of Kirill Borisovich appeared in the sliver of light from the hallway. Shura, who had been dozing, woke up. She saw the man freeze at the threshold, afraid to make a wrong move.
— How is she? — he asked in a half-whisper, approaching the bed.
— She’s fine, — Shura replied just as quietly. — She kept asking when her daddy would come home.
Kirill Borisovich carefully adjusted the edge of the blanket.
— Let’s go talk, — the master of the house said barely audibly and left.
Shura followed him to the living room, where Galina Vasilyevna was already waiting. She spoke softly:
— Kirill Borisovich, I gave Sashenka some of your late wife’s things, from the boxes in the back of the closet. Is that alright? It’s just that her own clothes were in no state, you understand.
The man looked at the guest, and Shura felt awkward, as if she had put on someone else’s life that didn’t fit her. But Kirill Borisovich just waved his hand wearily, almost lifelessly:
— Let her wear them, no point in them sitting in those boxes, it’s been so long. I’ve requested a new caregiver from the agencies, but there are no options yet: the holidays are coming, no one wants to work.
— I can stay with Lizka, — the girl said, suddenly finding courage. The realization that there wouldn’t be another chance like this came abruptly and pushed her to do it.
The wealthy man turned his gaze on Shura—cold, appraising.
— Don’t you need to go home?
— No, I don’t, — the girl shook her head.
— At least to let your family know? — Kirill Borisovich asked, surprised and somewhat wary. — You don’t have a phone, I believe. Give me the number, I’ll call, explain where you are and why you’re delayed. They must be going out of their minds looking for you.
At these words, Shura flinched visibly.
— Please, don’t call them, — her voice became dry and brittle. — I don’t have parents, I lived with my aunt’s family, my dad’s sister. The grandma there, my uncle’s mother, runs everything. If she finds out where I am and with whom, she’ll definitely think of something bad. She’s cunning. It’s better they think I stayed over at a friend’s. They don’t need to know this address.
The homeowner and the housekeeper exchanged an involuntary glance. However, Kirill Borisovich didn’t press the guest and concluded:
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