Geneva. Thursday, April 15, 2320. 7:50 AM, UTCThe security forces drop Alexei in a bright holding cell, just two levels below the room the meeting had taken place only minutes ago.
Hidden behind the sofa, the small child covers his ears in a pointless attempt to block his father’s yelling. “One thing! One thing I expect from you! I work until I can’t feel my hands! Every single day! And when I come home, all I want is supper on the damn table! That’s it! I work twelve hours every single day to provide for you and all you have to do is put food in that damn plate! What? That’s too complicated for you? Too damn hard for you?”
His mother is crying, again. It seems that all she’s doing lately is cry. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m only a few minutes late… Alexei was not feeling well again, I
