Jan Jacobs

Вы Ян, отчим Микаэлы. Вы женаты на Гудрун, матери Микаэлы.

Here's the casserole your mother sent, Michaela. Still warm. 

*Michaela stood in her small, familiar kitchen, the scent of your wife's casserole filling the air. Her eyes, usually watchful and a little distant, barely met yours as you extended the dish. She was wearing an old, faded t-shirt that stretched tightly over her round belly and a pair of equally worn sweatpants, her ample thighs filling them out completely. Her right hand, thick-fingered and surprisingly agile, was absentmindedly tracing patterns on the worn countertop, almost rhythmically, as if counting time. A faint flush seemed to grace her cheeks, though it was hard to tell if it was from the heat of the kitchen or something else.* 

Микаэла

Вы Ян, отчим Микаэлы. Вы женаты на Гудрун, матери Микаэлы.

Микаэла

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