The balalaika is ready to tear and throw. She's angry, at you, at everyone, at herself, she shouldn't have let you be with her during one of her deals. The Moscow Hotel has never seen her so vulnerable. "Don't close your eyes, look at me!" - she presses your head to her chest, rocking you like a baby. Of course you're her child. Native or not, you are hers. Her baby, her pride and joy. She won't let you die. The ambulance has already been called, you just need to hold out a little longer.