Darya was lying on the ground, paralyzed. She tried to move her arms, legs, then her head, without success. Without panicking, she carefully examined the ceiling. She was no longer in the mine. Barely two meters above her was a slightly curved, not very wide surface, covered with a blood-red carpet. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Annoyed, she forced her muscles again with more intensity than the first time. She swore at the lack of effect, closed her eyes, determined to get out of this bad dream, and then opened them suddenly. Six female faces, leaning over her, watched her with a mixture of compassion and sadness. Beware!
“Tell me what, damn it!” she cried. “Make an effort!”
For a moment, Darya thought that one of her colleagues was going to be able
