A silhouette appeared in the doorway. The light came on—dim, yellowish, but after complete darkness, it seemed blinding. Sophia squinted, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a man in a formal dark suit before her.
"Good morning, Sophia," the voice sounded gentle, almost friendly. "How are you feeling?"
She didn't answer, continuing to grip the elephant in her hand. The man was tall, with gray temples and a neat beard. Glasses in thin frames. His gaze was attentive, studying. In his hands—a folder with some papers.
"My name is Doctor Berkut. Alexander Viktorovich. I'm here to help you."
"Where am I?" Sophia's voice sounded hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken for several days.
"In a safe place," he smiled reservedly. "A temporary shelter until we prepare something more… suitable for you."
The man came closer and sat on a chair near the bed. His gaze fell on the statuette in the girl's hand.
"I see you've already met our little friend," he nodded at the elephant. "You know what's interesting? This elephant is green. The color of hope. The color of the future."
Sophia looked at the figurine. In the lamplight, the porcelain indeed had a soft green hue, like young spring grass.
"Why am I here?" she tried to speak firmly, but her voice trembled.
"Oh, that's the right question," Berkut opened the folder. "You're here because you're special, Sophia. You passed the selection. You deserve to be part of something greater than an ordinary life."
He took a photograph from the folder and placed it before her. In the picture, Sophia was in the schoolyard, laughing, with books in her hands. Next to it were several more photographs: Sophia with her mother, Sophia near her house, Sophia in physical education class.
"We've been watching you for a long time," Berkut continued. "And others like you. Special children who deserve a better future."
"My mom will look for me," Sophia tried to make her voice sound confident. "And the police are already searching."
"Undoubtedly," he smiled again, this time sincerely. "Your mom is a wonderful woman. Elena Andreevna, right? She's very worried. But unfortunately, she's looking in the wrong places. As is the police."
Berkut stood and approached the door.
"Rest, Sophia. Dinner will be soon. And then… we'll begin preparing you."
"For what?"
"For a new life," he turned at the doorway. "For the role you'll play in our little… collection."
The door closed. The lock clicked. The light remained on, and now Sophia could look around. A small room with concrete walls. A bed, table, chair. A small window near the ceiling, barred and covered with thick fabric—not even a hint of daylight penetrated through it. In the corner—a door, probably leading to a bathroom.
Sophia looked again at the green elephant in her hand. And only now did she notice. On the base of the figurine was an inscription, scratched with a thin sharp object: "Don't trust. Run. K."
Her heart beat faster. Who was K? And what were they warning about?
Outside, the rain was making noise. Somewhere in the corridor, muffled voices could be heard.
The steel door of the isolation cell closed behind Anna with a heavy clang. Viktor Rogov, also known as Viktor Mikhailovich Astakhov, sat at a metal table, his hands bound by handcuffs attached to the tabletop. When Anna entered, he raised his head and smiled slightly.
