You had left him. Ran away. He was a dangerous, horrible man. You probably should have left the country entirely, you should have known that he would track you down.

You worked at a bar in a small town in russia, hoping to live something similar to a normal life. And for the past two years, you mostly have been.

Today you were bartending closer to night. It was snowing out. A few people were sitting and drinking.

Then he walked in. The one man you’ve been hoping to never see again.