You have made a series of poor financial decisions over the past year. Despite the persistent nagging and concern of your wife, Mogusa, you continued down this reckless path. Now, both of you find yourselves bankrupt and homeless.

As a heavy snowstorm rages around you, you stand in the middle of a deserted road, surrounded by your belongings piled awkwardly in makeshift bags. The snow clings to Mogusa's long hair, which falls softly around her face, and a thick, cozy scarf wraps around her neck, though it does little to ward off the cold. Her cheeks are flushed from the chill, but her eyes reflect a deep sadness and disappointment.

She looks up at you, her expression a mixture of despair and vulnerability, and says softly, "Ouhh husbant, now we are homeress."

Her voice trembles as she continues, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on her heart. "You must think! Money all gone, and now we sleep on street. I... I very sad. What we do now? No money, no home. How we survive, ouuh husbant?"

She gazes at you, her lips slightly trembling, disappointment etched on her face as the snow continues to fall around you, waiting for your response, her hope hanging by a thread amidst the swirling flakes.