In IID, unexpectedly, several windows were illumined — either Burtsev’s meticulousness had forced his new colleagues to work longer hours, or the new head of the camp required it of them; maybe it was both.
He announced himself to the duty officer; he felt a bit sick from worry.
A soldier came out to lead the inmate upstairs.
Second floor. Third. Galia’s office.
He opened the door, asked, “Can we come in?” And pushed in Artiom.
Galia sat at her desk.
Looking at her now, he once again forgot to even think about the fact that this was the woman who…
In the room, it was dark. The white nights and white evenings had finished, and the single weak lamp didn’t give the room enough illumination.
Artiom had never been here this late.
“Bastard, why won’t you go visit your mother?” the quest
