Not even the stars twinkled in the sky. Late night fell on Tula, but impunity did not sleep at all.

Alik gently touched the girl's forearm, resting his chin on her shoulder. The sound of the tip of the knife that had just opened slashed through the air.

"Do you want sweets, dove?," the Afghan whispered softly but courageously, putting a weapon to her throat. "I see you're lost."