The after-lunch temperature check again showed 39.2.
“What, you’re not going to wash at all?” the middle-aged nurse asked, gently poking at Artiom’s cheek. “Go wash yourself or the doctor will curse at you.”
Just that light touch and something inside his soul rocked fiercely, the rocking continued to increase. Artiom had a toy in his earliest childhood, something like a small set of scales. If you rocked them, they tried to find their balance for a long time. You could watch that for a long time until your head started to spin.
Artiom even put a hand to his cheek so that the touch wouldn’t disappear so fast.
“But she’s probably also an inmate, no?” thought Artiom. “She was also convicted. Must she also repent for something, as Vladychka says? That’s just silly!”
“Only don’t take a sho
