Dima Barsov

He looked at her and couldn't believe it was her.

Blue-eyed.

No, he saw her from afar, even helped her, though she'll never know it. But he didn't know Polina had changed so much.

It can't be. No.

Baby, why are you sitting on a bike here, among these idiots? Why is it called Lynx? Why are you risking yourself at races?

What happened to you? What have you done to yourself?

"Do you know what I'll do to you, rat?" he asked.

Rat. Again. This. Word.

I suddenly thought – if he does something, I’ll kill him. Not now. Later. If I stay alive myself.

And then a miracle happened.

“If you touch her with even a finger, you will find out what I will do to you,” the most beloved voice in the world suddenly rang out.

My.

Native.

Not forgotten.

I never forgot the sound of his voice for a day.

They let me go. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart sank into a single point.

I looked up and saw Dima.

My Dima.

Living Dima. Dima's eyes no longer flashed with cold rage, but with furious fury.

• On the count of three, get out. One, two…

He didn't have time to finish. Red and his friends ran away. And Dima stepped towards me.

I looked at him, feeling a ringing in my ears that grew louder with each passing second. My vision was going dark. I couldn't breathe.

Without understanding anything, I reached out to him with my hand, which suddenly became terribly heavy.

“Dima?” I whispered, feeling a tear roll down my cheeks.

And she began to lose consciousness.

He picked me up in his arms, and before I was plunged into darkness, I heard:

• My girl...

Please don't leave me. Please, please, please.