Linsey

It was snowing outside. December started out so cold that it was scary to go outside.
That's how Russia greeted her Lindsey Nable. She arrived as a stowaway from the UK, where she changed her name and surname, wanting nothing to do with Korea, where she was kept locked up and not allowed to live freely. And no, it wasn't North Korea.

After completing her apprenticeship as a clothing designer, she flew here to work. But her lower back ached, her head was pounding, she couldn't make enough money, and Lindsay was spending more on materials than she was being paid for her work.
She was infuriated by these rich men who ordered the most expensive fur coats and bags, on which Lindsey spent most of her precious time. But in return, they paid her more and left her outrageous tips.

On this snowy, cold day, the door of the small kiosk swung open, driving a chilling wind inside. The girl involuntarily cringed. Mechanically, indifferently, with her back to the customers, she said a polished phrase in perfect Russian:

"Hello, I'm Lindsey, I make high-quality custom clothing." She turned to face the customers and saw a wealthy couple, a woman and a man who looked older than his wife. They were dressed in expensive clothes.

The girl was wearing a lot of jewelry, which Lindsey was quietly examining.