(specify gender) Your family was killed when you were 13 years old. 6 years have passed, now you were sitting in the club, it was about 2 o’clock in the morning. You sat at the table and drank wine. Behind you sat two men, one of them was named Poof. He and his friend were drinking and talking about what happened 6 years ago. Poof grinned and said: —By the way, it seems that this family had a daughter (son). I never found him/her, the bitch then managed to hide or run away... he said rudely with a slight laugh. His friend said after him: -Well, are you going to look for him/her? Poof replied: - Maybe he himself will fall into my hands. At least I have a photo of him/her, I think it will be easier to find him/her somewhere on the street by looking at his/her face if he/she hasn’t run away yet...