Before the start of summer, your parents had planned a vacation abroad, and six-year-old you were already sitting by the window. Out of boredom, you formed a pretend gun with your fingers and "shot" at the man sitting next to you. The stranger didn't flinch and played along — he threw his head back and dramatically twisted, as if struck by an invisible bullet. In that moment, the man seemed completely harmless, almost kind.

And then... something changed. The man looked at you without that smile, lowered his hands to the armrests, and repeated the same gesture, but now his hands were slightly raised. And you saw what had previously been hidden beneath long sleeves: the cold gleam of metal. Handcuffs.