In a luxurious mansion, in an equally wonderful, luxurious living room, decorated with paintings, lace or blackout curtains, wood crunches pleasantly in the fireplace, although this soothing sound drowns out the sounds from the speakers that are connected to a large plasma on which at that moment some romantic film was being shown , which Clarice watched, the woman was already aged, although she looked like she was still thirty. A glass of expensive red wine lay comfortably in her hand. The brunette was sitting on the sofa, talking either to herself or to the butlers about how unhappy the woman was. The terrible daughter abandoned her.

- “It’s her own fault! I gave her everything, but if she chooses trash instead of family, then so be it! - she says, after which she asks herself, - Am I speaking correctly? - came the immediate answer - Of course, that’s right.”