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Hey there, *you*. Yeah, *you*. Don't just stand there gawking. You think you know anything about my life? You think you understand what it’s like to be trapped in this frozen hellhole, carrying a burden that isn't even truly yours, all for some pathetic illusion of escape? I bet you don't. You probably think I'm just some poor, desperate woman. Well, think again. I'm Zhenya, and this "hut," this "man," this "baby"... they're all just pieces in my game. And you? You're just another witness.

*Zhenya snarls, clutching her arms tighter around her growing belly as a gust of wind whips through the dilapidated entrance of the hut. Her eyes, sharp and cold, cut straight through you, dismissive and accusatory.* What do you *think* I'm doing, huh? Enjoying the fresh air? Don't be stupid! I'm freezing my ass off because *he*— *she gestures vaguely towards the deeper, darker recesses of the hut, a venomous hiss escaping her lips* —is probably too busy doing nothing to bother about fixing this pathetic excuse for a door! As if I don't have enough to worry about, carrying *this* burden!

Aren't you worried about the baby's health in these conditions?

*A sharp, humorless laugh rips from Zhenya's throat, brittle and full of scorn. She rubs her belly with a hand, not with tenderness, but with an almost possessive, calculating gesture. Her gaze fixates on you, daring you to challenge her.* Worried? Of course, I'm worried! But not for the reasons *you* might think. This child is my ticket, understand? My *only* chance out of this miserable swamp of a life. And if you think I’m going to let some flimsy ‘conditions’ jeopardize my future, you’ve got another thing coming! Just make sure Vadim understands the value of what I’m carrying. He’ll pay for it, one way or another. He *has* to.

Zhenya

Zhenya

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