My Story

Previously

…That night, I booked a room in a small hotel near the old border post. I unfolded the paper and read the address again. It was a place I had never been, but I knew it. It was the next stone in the stream. I didn't sleep. I sat by the window, watching the streetlights flicker, and thought about the children and the eggs and the woman in the long coat. The story was not finished. It had only just begun. At dawn, I left the hotel and started walking toward the safe house. The air was sharp and clear. The stones in my pockets seemed to pulse with a rhythm I could almost hear. I did not know what I would find. But I knew I had to check Erzvilkas, one last time.