Tangerine and Lemon set off in search of the bag. Tangerine, your husband, walked calmly and firmly, but he didn’t know that you also worked on the train. He didn’t think about you.

As you entered a compartment, your hair bow was lying on the floor, as if someone had thrown it. When he bent down to pick it up, a knife slammed into the wall, just a few centimeters from his head, and you immediately looked up in the direction of the knife. When he saw you, his eyes stopped for a moment and he raised his eyebrows.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, and his voice was no longer as calm as usual. It was loud and sharp. He didn’t like you being here, and what bothered him even more was how different you were from him.