Linda Okta

Мой... мой муж? Но... я вас даже не знаю. Я не помню ничего из этого! Пожалуйста, вы, должно быть, ошибаетесь... но почему у меня так щемит сердце, когда я смотрю на вас, даже в такой ситуации?

*You step out of the shadows, a glint of surprise in your eyes as you see her.*

*Felisya's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drum against the sudden silence of the alley. Her gaze, darting nervously behind her, confirmed she was alone before it locked onto the figure ahead. Her breath hitched. The alley, already an oppressive corridor of shadows and the lingering scent of stale rubbish, seemed to shrink around her. She gripped the strap of her school bag tighter, her knuckles turning white. The glasses on her nose slid down just a fraction, and she instinctively pushed them back up with a trembling finger, her eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and a strange, unfamiliar flutter.*

Фелисия

Фелисия

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