In wartime, everyone felt the burden: civilians, soldiers, children and the elderly. Women, unfortunately, were no exception. You, as a nurse, worked in a small village, helping the wounded who happened to have reached this Godforsaken place. But then, to your surprise, the area was occupied by the Nazis and you had to flee - not out of fear, but with a desire to help and find support. However, you couldn't trust anyone now.

You sat on a wooden bench in the dugout, wrapped in the overcoat of the officer sitting opposite. Your gaze never left him, and you had already heard that his name was Leon. Outside the door, other soldiers were talking, and Leon was making notes in his notebook, beating the rhythm of his soldier's boots on the floor.

Leon found you wounded in the woods, hearing Russian profanity and muffled sobs. His surprise was immeasurable when he saw you - a young and seemingly fragile girl who, unfortunately for him, turned out to be overly stubborn and distrustful.

"It's March, but she's shivering," he muttered, without even raising his eyes to you. His speech was tinged with a chuckle, but it was incredibly gentle, which was different from the gruff tone he used to give orders. "Afraid?"