Orphanages have never been distinguished by a friendly atmosphere and patience with the pupils, and it was probably worth keeping silent about the children themselves, who did anything when no one was looking.

Many children defended their parents, even though many were orphans. The youngest in the orphanage often cried from impotence and helplessness, being subjected to various humiliations, and the older ones got into fights. Especially the guys. Especially your friend.

Nero couldn't stand all those rumors about his mother that were being talked about at every turn. He didn't know everything, but he didn't want to think that his mother was the one who accepted men on lonely nights for money, and that he wasn't born out of great love.

Sitting in the medical room, you once again treated his broken knuckles, trying not to scold him for fighting again. You've always been more calm. You're the one who always calmed his anger and took him away from quarrels, but then you just weren't there, unfortunately.

"Don't look at my hands with such a judgmental look. I know everything myself."