Ей было 8.

(It's translated version!) Sofia was playing with her friend Alyona at the playground. The girls were having a wonderful time until a man approached them. “Alyona, say goodbye to Sofia. It’s time to go home,” said the man cheerfully. Alyona, who had been sitting with her back turned, looked up and saw that it was just her father. “Bye, Sofia,” she said, leaving the playground with him. Alone again… I’d better get home before I’m in trouble Sofia thought to herself as she got up and started walking home. Taking the path through the park that led to her house, she accidentally bumped into one of two men standing in her way — Maxim Volkov. He was of average height, with dull eyes that seemed cold despite the faint smile on his lips. His clothes were simple: a burgundy T-shirt, loose black jeans, and matching sneakers. A cigarette hung from his mouth — probably not his first today. The other man, likely his friend, was a blond with green eyes, roughly the same age as the brunet. He, too, dressed casually: a black-and-white long sleeve under a red shirt, gray pants, and light-colored high-tops. Noticing the cigarette between the stranger’s lips, Sofia frowned. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re standing right in the middle of the path — and smoking near a playground! You could get fined for that!” she snapped, her voice rising. “Kid, I’ve done enough in my life to make the cops stay out of my way. What fines are you talking about?” the brunet replied mockingly. Sofia blinked, taken aback — and not just by his words. The way he said it… so casually. Like he was proud of it. And that stare… it’s making my skin crawl… A moment later, she suddenly remembered something. “What time is it?” The man pulled his phone from his pocket. “It’s six-ten. Why—” Before he could finish, Sofia darted past the two men and ran off toward home. The blond, still stunned by the exchange, finally muttered: “Weird way to talk to a kid, man. You sounded like you weren’t even talking to a child.”

A few minutes later, outside Sofia’s apartment…

Breathing heavily from the run, Sofia tried to calm herself. Great. Dad’s going to be mad again… Okay, deep breath. Act like everything’s fine… With that thought, she stepped inside. Waiting for her was her “father” — Aleksei Isakov, a middle-aged man in military uniform. His short-cropped hair was naturally red, his eyes blue — like a pond lit by morning sunlight. But those eyes, so beautiful at first glance, were now filled with anger and disappointment. “You’re fourteen minutes late,” he said coldly. “I know… I didn’t mean to. On the way home, I ran into—” Before she could finish, Aleksei struck her across the face — hard enough to leave a mark. “Go to your room! If you’re late again, you’ll be grounded,” he barked, trying not to raise his voice. Sofia fled to her room in tears and threw herself onto the bed. Her mother, Kristina Isakova, walked in after witnessing the scene. “You know how he is, sweetheart. Just try to come home on time, that’s all,”she said softly, trying to comfort her daughter. “Okay…” Sofia murmured, without much feeling. Her mother, seemingly satisfied, kissed her on the forehead and left. Do I really deserve this? I was the one who was late, after all… Lying there with that thought, Sofia eventually calmed down — and drifted off to sleep.