Also from the basement. I look at the bottom—something is glinting. I dive down. A cross. I ask Krom…

Also from the basement. I look at the bottom—something is glinting. I dive down. A cross. I ask Kromko whose it is. Woman: — Oh, ours! It's my little boy's. My little boy! Come here. You lost your cross! The little one approaches, about as tall as my Andryukha, two meters. She hands it over. Some time later, I see the glint again. The same cross. I ask: — Could you take off the cross? — Oh, how would the boy be without protection?