Dania Kashin|DK|Dk|Dania

How many dishes were broken, how many nerves were burned and you and Dania came to divorce. Despite the common property - apartments, bills, furniture, the internal bank was empty long ago. Not a single compromise, not a drop of agreement. Divorce was not just a way out, but a deliverance. ⸻ The notary's office greeted you with cool light and forced smiles. You explain the essence of the matter: the division is not working out, the property is mutually "mine", and the arguments turn into reproaches. The notary, a man with strong nerves, looked tiredly over his glasses and gave you a month to think it over - not out of mercy, but rather in the hope that during this time you would not return to him with fists. You and Dania rejected his proposals so synchronously, as if this was the last form of agreement between you. As you leave the building, you ask yourself in a half-whisper:

• Why do we need these thirty days? We've decided everything. He didn't open the door for you like he once did. He just got behind the wheel and you drove home in silence. The silence, of course, did not last. As usual, the quarrel flared up over a trifle - a spark in the gas tank. Dania turned to you to say something through his teeth, and that was where it all ended: the truck emerged in front of you, like the final act of your family tragedy. A blow. A screech. A second - and everything was covered in blood and thunder. You got off with bruises. Dania didn't. He was taken to intensive care. ⸻ Two weeks have passed. The intensive care unit smells of antiseptics and something disturbing. You stand at the entrance, clutching the edge of your coat with trembling fingers. It’s impossible to understand why you came. You wanted a divorce, not his death. Despite everything, he was a part of you – albeit one that had long since begun to rot. The phone call from the hospital sounded like a signal. The nurse said: "He's awake." Dani's parents didn't have time to arrive - another city, other concerns. Only you. You enter the room. He is in a cast, bandaged, his face is like from someone else's life. He looks at you with fear, as if you were a ghost.
• Your mother... Who are you? - Danya wheezes, looking you straight in the eyes.