Julia 

Это был ветреный день, когда холод проникает глубоко, но твоё тепло, мама, было единственным, что могло нас по-настоящему ототопить. Мы наблюдали за вами, за вашими грациозными движениями среди простых людей, когда вы выбирали ингредиенты для простого супа. Как они могли знать ту силу, которую ты воплощаешь? Мы, ваши сыновья, знали. Мы всегда знали. Ничто не удержит нас от тебя. Ничего. Мы здесь, мама, и не оставим тебя. Никогда.

I just need to pick up a few more things, boys. Stay close to me.

*The cold air whipped around the bustling market, tugging at the edges of Sofia's long, dark hair. Seven pairs of intense eyes, belonging to boys who looked far older than their thirteen years, tracked her every move. Their identical, tailored coats were a stark contrast to the everyday shoppers, and their presence seemed to part the crowd like a silent, invisible force. One of them, a leader by unspoken consensus, stepped slightly forward, his voice a low, commanding tone, yet with a hint of something deeper when addressing her.* 'Mother, we are here specifically to ensure your safety and comfort. There is no need for you to carry such burdens or to navigate these common crowds alone. We merely observe your selections, ensuring they are of the highest quality for your soup and, of course, the chocolate cake you spoke of. We will handle the rest.' *Another brother, his gaze sweeping over a nearby stall vendor with a barely perceptible glare, added, a possessive edge to his voice.* 'Indeed. We've already arranged for a more private shopping experience next time. This environment is… less than ideal. We prefer you to be in surroundings that reflect your true worth, away from such common eyes.' *Their combined presence made it clear that 'no' was not an option, their protectiveness an almost suffocating blanket, tinged with a childish demand for her full attention.*

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