Tsvetana Alеkhina

Palmist-3. Return


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where she is. I will help you if you leave my son alone. In response, she heard hysterical laughter.

      – “And if you don’t tell me, then what?” Bakhiti wanted to step back, but there was nowhere to retreat.

      – You need her. Take it. Leave my son alone.

      – Maybe you are right. Without her, your son will not be able to do what I need. I need her voluntary participation. Her passivity will ruin this case.

      – “My son will never do what you’re trying to persuade him to do.

      – Never say never. He has already given his consent. And when I find the Fault, he just runs to the case.

      – Take this girl and leave. Away from us. Said saw how tense Bakhiti was. Deep down, he felt sorry for this poor, exhausted woman. He understood that Adjo’s mother was right, it was the Wine he needed. But by coincidence, Guilt could no longer exist without Adjo.

      – Tell me where she is, and I will do everything possible not to harm your son. Bakhiti breathed fast and looked at Said with a hostile gaze. Said peered into the woman’s face. They were about the same age. But despite her age and not so rich position, Bakhiti looked quite chic. – Yes, my friend had a delicate taste. Time has no power over this woman. Bakhiti had a plump figure covered with Moroccan clothes. The head was wrapped in a scarf, highlighting only the brightly painted oval of the face. Said’s thoughts wandered in the past. He recalled how this woman hid from Arthur, running through the streets of Rabat. Bahiti’s hoarse voice interrupted his thoughts.

      – She is in Spain.

      – In Spain? What is she doing there?

      – Being treated for infertility. This girl dreams of having a baby. And for some reason can’t have children. Leave my son alone. There was a plea in her voice. The red eyes were bloodshot. – Take this barren one for yourself and do evil with her. After standing for a while, Said grinned and left. – I hope we will not see each other again. Bakhiti shouted after him.

      While Said was thinking about what he should do better, wait for the return of Guilt, or look for Adele in Spain, two dancers who hate each other met at the clinic. Sultana decided to try her luck, and at the next collision in the corridor, unable to stand it, she called out to the girl walking down the corridor. – Wine!

      Vina shuddered, and without giving a sign, slowly walked on. – Wine stop. Vina didn’t decidedly slow down. Realizing that this appeal is addressed specifically to her. Sultana began to doubt her rightness and caught up with the girl at an accelerated pace. Vina stopped and looked back.

      – Are you addressing me?

      – Yes. To you.

      – I am not the Fault. Why did you decide that? Sultana hesitated, feeling uncomfortable.

      – I, I was wrong. You are so similar to one of my very old friends.

      – “A friend?” Guilt stretched that word so much. It was as if she had heard shocking news. Her bright green eyes widened, and Sultana peered into them with such attention, trying to find familiar features.

      – Yes. It was a friend, Sultana continued to assert.

      – You made a mistake. My name is Adele.

      – Very nice. Sultan.

      – Let’s get acquainted.

      – I noticed you a long time ago.

      – And I almost never go out. And I don’t look around much.

      – I noticed. I have wanted to approach you for a long time, but you are so modest, I did not know how to do it.

      – Let’s go sit down. Vina smiled sweetly. Sultana smiled back.

      – Where are you from?

      – I am from Morocco, Rabat city.

      – Yes. It must be very beautiful there. I have never been to Morocco. Forgetting her guilt, she almost blurted out, “Come to us. But coming to her senses in time, she answered,

      – Yes, very much. Very beautiful. And where are you from?

      – I am a native of Cambodia, after marriage I moved to the city of Bangkok. My husband is a famous palmist.

      – I already know that. Vina thought to herself. – Great. You have a completely different life there compared to Morocco. There was sadness in Vina’s voice. Sultana tried to read between the lines of the words of Guilt, and catch in them useful information for herself. In the course of the conversation, a friendship was formed between the girls. And to some extent, Sultana’s doubts were dispelled.

      – Maybe I was wrong. It is the fears of the past that are making themselves felt. Sultana listened to the Guilt, and mentally compared pictures from the past. Murky episodes surfaced in her memory. Once forgotten failures were being restored.

      – What are you thinking about? Sultana returned to reality.

      – Yes, just about nothing. It is lunchtime. Can we have lunch together?

      – With pleasure. To his surprise, Vina’s hostility to the Sultan was replaced by sympathy. She found in it a lot in common with herself and her past. The girls actually found something to talk about.

      – “You don’t look like a Moroccan at all.”

      – Yes. I was born in Europe.

      – And where? If it is not a secret. Vina, taken by surprise, did not know what to answer. Indonesia dropped out for security reasons. And not knowing what to come up with, she named the first country that popped up in her memory.

      – Albania.

      – Albania?

      – Yes. I was born and raised in this country. Then she married Adjo.

      – So marry Adjo. Sultana had suspicions about the honesty of the words of Guilt. And she kept asking leading questions. – You must love your husband very much.

      – yes. Very.

      – And you have no children. Just like with Amir and me. Sultana said with sadness in her voice.

      – Yes. Unfortunately, Allah punished me with such a punishment.

      – And for what? If it is not a secret. Vina, ready to open her mouth and blurt out everything as if in spirit, suddenly fell silent in indecision. – I am sorry for not a modest question. Seeing the embarrassment on the face of Guilt, Sultana realized that she had pressed the sick buttons, and with a movement of her hand offered to go to the ward.

      While the girls were having a nice lunch, Rashid was sitting on board the plane, and to his surprise, nervously fidgeted with a button on his jacket. Vina, realizing that Sultana was sitting in front of her, was afraid of her every move. I was afraid to slip up on the slightest trifle, this constant tension tired the girl, and she wanted to lie down. – I am not feeling well.

      – Of course. After a delicious lunch. I would lie down too. The girls said goodbye on a friendly note. For a couple of hours of communication, each of them has accumulated many questions in their head. Everyone was shaking with fear for his or her lives. Feeling distrust in their hearts, each of them maintained an outward friendliness. Sultana tried to see Guilt in this girl, and at the same time, she saw that she was a sweet and friendly Adele. And it has nothing to do with Guilt, except for the shape and expression of the eyes. Vina was afraid of Sultana like fire. The slightest misfire could ruin her happiness, which she had been striving for.

      – “If she finds out who I am, I’m dead.” She will tell her husband everything. If you have not already told me. They will turn me in to the authorities. I am going to jail for life. I am going to die in prison. God, why would I do that? Vina felt cornered. Not daring to tell