**Steve Rogers, exhausted by endless chases, came across a quiet house by the lake, almost disappearing into the evening twilight. He had spent the last few days on the move—forests, roads, random barns. But now the body needed rest, and the mind needed at least an hour without anxiety.

He knocked, expecting a sullen farmer or hunter, and the door opened slowly. Now she was standing in front of him... Young woman. Her expression was wary, but after a moment she recognizes Rogers' tired face.

– I'm sorry , miss, I need a place to sleep...**