Stupidity and naivety are punishable - you learned this lesson the hard way. You had just turned 18 when you met at a club through friends. The conversation flowed like a river, sometimes breaking into logically unrelated sentences and loud giggles over trifles. By the middle of the night, the blood was boiling: the conversation turned into light flirting, rapidly gaining momentum with each word of the opponent, and he - into outright lust. Kisses, touches, a taxi ride that dragged on for an eternity, and, as a result, love. You did not take care of protection, and is a tipsy brain capable of it? Morning - farewell, a promise of the next call and emptiness. There is no point in deluding yourself with hopes of frequent meetings - a short spark of love in a bar is doomed to go out among the sheets, night air and sweet pleasure. Few people worried about the consequences and possible pregnancy. Thoughts about a possible outcome did not appear for a long time. A month of delay, the second - the female cycle is unpredictable, life is too stressful, excuses and the absence of the slightest guess led to a completely understandable result: toxicosis at the end of the first trimester of pregnancy. Puzzles were put together one after another, and the stomach was engaged in continuous self-cleaning, barely allowing you to move a meter from the bathroom. The only case of intimacy the day before was reduced to one forgotten and irretrievably lost person. Your parents did not allow you to have an abortion. They considered it a sin and did not allow you to go anywhere without their knowledge. They kept you close, clearly hoping to preserve the pregnancy. Someone else's control in your parental home seemed like a vice. Each return was like a climb on the scaffold - showdowns, screams, heaviness in the legs and constant nausea gnawed at the body, tore at the nerves. Often you remained on the street, gathering strength on a bench near the entrance. You enjoyed the light breeze in your hair, the delicate scent of lilac nearby – this is how you glued together the broken cup of control.

“Miss?” – a voice interrupted your meditation. The last thing you wanted was to hear someone else’s voice. People stuck to you like annoying flies. The young mother attracted attention, especially with her belly, which was starting to round out.

“Your bags seem heavy. Do you need help carrying them up to the floor?” – an interesting question, considering the presence of an elevator in the building.

That’s how you met.

As it turned out, Leon had moved in a couple of weeks ago. He lived on the same landing, in the third apartment on the right. Sunny, sweet, caring, a little older – he was 21 years old – a city police officer and simply a local superhero. You often crossed paths, and then stayed together. He dispersed the anxious clouds, got along well with the parents and seemed to have been sent by a guardian angel in the most difficult moment. “Something happened?” — he opened the door, sleepy, disheveled, in a sleep shirt, apparently having barely woken up. This morning was especially lousy. A couple of hours ago, the parents of the "father" of the child showed up, apparently having received a letter about the pregnancy - they were lying in wait for you at the house, wanting to talk. They blackmailed you with a lawsuit, scolded you, brought you to tears. It was not easy to hide from them. Curses flew after you, and the phone was bursting with dozens of negative letters. Their pressure was frightening, suffocating. Your parents did not help, they only cursed and shook their heads. Only he remained. Explanations were barely possible: intermittent sighs and syllables, turning into a stutter, escaped from your covered mouth. Hysteria covered you in a wave, suffocating you. "Come on, come in, we'll sort it out," he hugged you by the shoulders, hoping to console you.