Valerie lay awake for a long time. Tonight, the familiar bunk felt especially stiff and uncomfortable. The dorm was stifling, filled with a thick, suffocating stench—something heavy and foul that she had never encountered in the world outside. She wanted nothing more than to stand under a hot shower and use a coarse loofah to scrub the events of the last few years off her skin until it hurt.
Valerie found herself slipping back into her memories again, despite her best efforts to resist. Reminiscing was agonizing... and in her current environment, it was even dangerous. She had watched several new arrivals break under the weight of the harsh prison reality. They hadn't survived; they had simply withered and snapped. Each had her own story, but they all shared one thing: excessive sensitivity and weakness. It wasn't true that people didn't kick you when you were down. Here, there were different laws. She had decided that she had something to live for, and she certainly wasn't going to fall apart.
In her mind, Valerie imagined that two people lived inside her body. One was the old Valerie, the real one. The second was the current one, with nerves of steel and a very thick layer of armor. It was easier that way... and life had, indeed, become simpler.
But today, everything went off script. Vivid images of the past spun in her head like a carousel. She had received a letter from her neighbor, Mrs. Miller. The letter brought news of recent events. Valerie's grandmother, who had raised her since she was in diapers, had taken to her bed. Her health had declined sharply after what had happened to her beloved granddaughter. Still, she had held on until the very end. She had regularly sent packages with hand-knitted clothes, and had even managed to visit a couple of times. But apparently, the elderly body was finally consuming itself, day by day. And really, was there any justice in this world?
The woman had poured her heart and soul into raising Valerie. She had protected her as best she could, but she hadn't been able to stop her from a hasty marriage. That had been Valerie's fatal mistake. The grandmother had seen right through Valerie's young husband, Paul. But she hadn't dared to go against her granddaughter's decision. Paul had done his best to pretend he was in love, but there was a certain phoniness, a cowardice, and a spite in every movement he made. Her worst fears had been realized.
The young husband had taken out massive loans to start a shady company, which he registered in his wife's name. Eighteen months after the wedding, Valerie found herself in a minimum-security prison camp—all for her husband's crimes. Claiming he was still very young, he had secretly filed for divorce. Without a shred of shame, he began bringing girlfriends to the very apartment Valerie had so carefully decorated.
Valerie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to remember her grandmother's desperate attempt to save her. The old woman had found an ad in the newspaper for some lawyer who promised a 100% success rate in court. She had gathered all her savings and gone into debt, trusting the "expert." But he couldn't do anything. Perhaps he lacked the knowledge, or perhaps he simply couldn't compete with Paul's wealthy family.
The judge overseeing the case likely realized that the defendant was merely a victim of circumstances. However, he couldn't go against the facts—which meant he couldn't go against the system. To soften Valerie's fate as much as he could, he gave her the minimum sentence of four and a half years and sent her to a prison camp rather than a maximum-security facility.
More than anything in this life, Valerie dreamed of being free. She wanted to do everything in her power to make her grandmother forget this nightmare. She imagined the two of them going to a resort, swimming in the pool, and eating ice cream. She imagined getting a job and buying her grandmother a new coat, dresses, and a hat. The poor woman had seen so little in this life. One son—Valerie's father—had died in a car crash along with his wife. The other son had remained a bachelor due to his drinking problem. Fortunately, he lived separately in a halfway house nearby.
The first rays of sunlight began to fill the dorm. With the dawn, Valerie's chaotic thoughts finally took a clear shape: she had to run. Even if it cost her her life, she had to say goodbye to her grandmother. Otherwise, she would never forgive herself.
***
Today happened to be Bill's shift. To Valerie, he seemed to be the only guard who treated the inmates like human beings rather than just "meat." People who had made a mistake, perhaps, but people nonetheless. She had never heard a crude joke or a suggestive remark from him. At the same time, she sometimes caught him looking at her for a little too long, wearing a strange, enigmatic smile.
Valerie knew the daily routine by heart. When Bill was alone, she took the opportunity to speak with him privately.
"Bill! Please, excuse me for approaching you... but I think you're the only one who might understand. My grandmother is dying. She's the only family I have left, other than my uncle who drinks. I just want to say goodbye to her. Could you let me go for just a few hours? I promise to do whatever you say. I won't run away. I'll be back exactly when you tell me to. I just need to hug her one last time," Valerie said, her voice trembling as she looked at him imploringly.
He clearly expected to hear anything but that. At first, his eyes showed unhidden surprise, but then a sinister spark appeared. He let out a laugh. After a short pause, Bill spoke.
"So, you're asking me to violate protocol? To risk not only my job but my own freedom? Do you have any idea what would happen to me?"
Valerie lowered her gaze. Her shoulders slumped as if a heavy weight had settled on them. Despite her will, a thin stream of tears began to flow from her eyes.
The last thing she wanted was to show weakness. For a long time, she had managed to keep her emotions in check. But apparently, everyone has a breaking point.
"I'll come back... I'll work in the yard during the day. I'll be there for roll call. And in the morning—I'll be back before the inspection. No one will notice," Valerie whispered, barely audible, as if forcing each word out.
Bill was well aware that inmates could try to manipulate the guards emotionally, pretending to be "lost lambs." In reality, he knew that everyone in this place had more skeletons in their closet than the average guy.
They were taught never to engage in personal conversations with convicts. There was no such thing as "women" here. There was to be no special treatment. A criminal was a criminal.
However, he decided to take advantage of the situation. This inmate was completely different from the others. It was as if she truly hadn't done anything illegal and had ended up here by accident. He had been watching her for a long time. After thinking it over, Bill spoke.
"Fine. I'll consider your request... but only if you agree to spend the night with me. You don't get favors for nothing. This is a huge risk for me. I could end up with more problems than your dying grandmother."
Valerie could hardly stand. she realized that Bill was not going to help her. She felt disgusted by herself and by the fact that she had once again misjudged a person. His base instincts and his position meant far more to him than simple human decency.
But she couldn't refuse now. Once she had voiced her desire, the attention on her would only increase. A refusal meant conflict, and she didn't need any unnecessary noise right now. Valerie nodded and said, "Fine. I agree."
In reality, Valerie had already made up her mind: since a peaceful agreement hadn't worked, she would see her grandmother by escaping. She just had to wait for the right time.
***
The day dragged on. Valerie pretended everything was normal. Under the guards' watchful eyes, she worked diligently. In her soul, however, she imagined burying her face in her grandmother's hair, kissing her, and hugging her. God, how she missed her!
The evening roll call went as usual. The time for Valerie's "date" with Bill was relentlessly approaching. The mere thought of it made her skin crawl.
Waiting until the guards were out of sight and no curious inmates were around, Valerie slipped outside. It was relatively easy. Construction was currently underway on the prison grounds. She had long noticed a gap under the concrete fence that the workers were reinforcing—a gap just large enough for her to squeeze through. Being slim and flexible, she managed it without a problem.
For a moment, Valerie looked back, then turned and ran toward the woods with all her might. The path home lay through a thick forest. It would take at least two or three hours to get there.
Branches whipped her face. Her head spun. Her legs felt stiff and wooden. She tried to cheer herself up by thinking of her grandmother. She tried to push away the thought of her disappearance being discovered. The prison administration knew her grandmother's address, after all. They could easily go there. She didn't want to think about what that might do to the already frail old woman.
Meanwhile, Bill was in a state of joyful anticipation. He hadn't pursued any flings with inmates before, unlike some of the senior guards. Though some women, desperate for male attention, had made suggestive offers—and some even wanted to get pregnant to qualify for early parole—Bill had stayed away. It was frightening to think how many of those desperate mothers were in the country if even their camp had more than ten pregnant women at the moment. Bill knew that none of their partners or husbands ever came to visit.
Valerie was supposed to be his first experience. A bit wild and distant... which made her even more desirable. With these thoughts, he entered the dorm to take the girl with him. But as it turned out, her bed was empty. Rather, under the blanket lay some rags, mimicking the shape of a sleeping person.
Cold sweat broke out on Bill's forehead. If the administration found out about this, he wouldn't just be reprimanded; at best, he'd be fired, and at worst... The man trembled and quickly ran out of the room. Hurriedly flipping through the file to find the relative's address where the fugitive might be headed, he sounded the alarm and set off in pursuit.
***
The dogs picked up the scent quickly, but they got confused in the woods. The prison staff decided to split up. Bill was furious with Valerie. He wanted to be the first to catch her. His pride was wounded. He followed her trail like a wolf.
Finally, he noticed he was moving in the right direction. The tall grass was unnaturally flattened. He picked up his pace. He couldn't let the fugitive play him for a fool again.
At last, he spotted a moving figure in the distance. Within minutes, he reached his goal. Bill grabbed Valerie painfully by the hair and threw her to the ground. The girl fought desperately, biting her attacker, but he seemed to have lost his mind. He began tearing at her clothes. The last thing she remembered before losing consciousness was the man's snarling, animalistic glare and the words:
"That wasn't the deal!"
The ordeal lasted only minutes, but to Valerie, it felt like an eternity. She felt incredibly nauseous, but she couldn't escape the monster's grip. Finally, her hand brushed against a stone. Gathering the last of her strength, she struck the man on the head. A long groan followed. He lost consciousness and slumped to the side.
Hurriedly dressing herself, Valerie stood up and ran again. After what had happened, she had lost her bearings. But she couldn't stop.
When the first rays of sun hit the ground, the girl saw she was at the edge of the woods. But ahead were not houses, but a cemetery. This didn't frighten her. She remembered the words her grandmother often repeated: "It's not the dead you should fear, but the living." Now, Valerie understood that was the truth.
The girl wandered slowly among the graves, feeling as if she were in a delirium. Faces of people of all ages looked at her from photos on the crosses. Some were smiling. Could they have known those photos would be their last—the ones their grieving relatives would pull from a family album? For a second, she realized she would have to do the same. The thought that the police might have already raided her grandmother's house stung her heart. She hadn't even let the woman die in peace. She was always nothing but trouble.
Suddenly, near one of the graves—apparently a fresh one—Valerie saw a hunched figure. For a moment, she was startled, but curiosity took over. Moving closer, she saw an old man leaning on a cane. His head was bowed, and he was clearly in deep mourning. A young woman looked out from the photo on the cross. Her expression was kind but looked exhausted. As it turned out, she had been only three years older than Valerie.
The old man finally sensed he wasn't alone and slowly turned around. Seeing a stranger in torn clothes with bruises on her face, he gasped in surprise and fear.
Valerie didn't want to scare the elderly man, so she took a step back, intending to move on. But the old man suddenly stood up as quickly as his age allowed and approached her.
"Honey! What happened to you? People don't come to the cemetery this early... unless they've already lost everything in this life. Like me, for instance. I buried my only daughter forty days ago." The old man drifted off, his eyes glistening with tears. Returning to reality, he looked at the stranger again and repeated his question. "So, what's wrong, dear? You need medical help... you're white as a sheet."
Valerie didn't know what to say. Telling him everything would take hours, and she was so weak. She desperately wanted to drink... and to sleep.
The old man realized the girl was in shock and that trying to get information out of her now was pointless. Taking her by the hand, he led her to his home.
Valerie didn't have the strength to resist. She likely had a high fever; she was shivering violently. The path from the cemetery to the old man's cottage went through the woods. Every step was an enormous effort. It felt as if heavy weights were tied to her feet, and they had to walk at least three miles. However, the old man pulled her along confidently.
***
Valerie remembered the next few days only vaguely. She was in a semi-delirious state for several days. The old man, who had lived by the woods his whole life and knew the healing properties of every herb by heart, carefully prepared restorative and strengthening infusions for her. Even though the girl was a stranger, he cared for her as if she were his own daughter.
A month later, Valerie's strength returned. But in the mornings, she began to feel a strange nausea and dizziness. The thought that she might be pregnant by Bill made her feel sick. But there was nothing she could do about it.
Furthermore, she knew her grandmother's neighbor's number by heart but couldn't contact her to find out how she was, as there was no cell service in the woods. The only place in the village with a phone was the medical clinic. But going there in broad daylight meant risking the old man who had been so kind to her.
To get some fresh air, Valerie often went out into the garden. The old man had a small dog named Buster. To the owner's surprise, the animal quickly bonded with the new family member. Watching the usually cautious puppy run after Valerie like a shadow, the old man noted that animals were better than people—they could sense a person's soul. A dog wouldn't be affectionate toward someone with an evil heart. Therefore, saving Valerie hadn't been in vain.
However, the quiet life didn't last long. One of the neighbors noticed that the previously frugal old man had started buying more groceries at the local store. He had indeed been treating Valerie, buying her the occasional chocolate bar or ice cream.
The neighbors, dying of curiosity, decided to keep a secret eye on the elderly man. After a few days, their suspicions that something strange was happening in Michael's cottage were confirmed. One of the neighbors saw Valerie playing with the puppy in the yard.
At first, the vigilant woman crossed herself in fear. She thought the stranger was the neighbor's recently buried daughter. But looking closer, she realized it wasn't her.
Within an hour, the local police were ready to move in. The warrants for Valerie had long been a headache for many officials. The fugitive seemed to have vanished into thin air, and now—a long-awaited lead.
That day, Valerie felt particularly unwell. Because of the morning sickness, she felt she couldn't get enough air. Taking Buster with her, she went out into the garden. Because of the dense trees and bushes, she didn't see what was happening on the street. But what she heard left no room for doubt.
One after another, cars pulled up to the house. People were talking on radios. Weapons were clinking.
"They found me," Valerie whispered.
She wasn't afraid for herself or her health, but she was terrified of how the old man would react. He had grown so attached to her. With her arrival, he had something to care for again, as if his beloved daughter had returned. She had heard him try to call her by his daughter's name more than once, only to catch himself just in time.
Walking into the house on trembling legs, Valerie went straight to the kitchen. There, the old man was cooking his "signature" chicken soup with dumplings. Barely holding back her tears, she approached her savior.
"Mr. Higgins... forgive me for everything. But they're here for me. You are the most wonderful person I know, and I will never forget your kindness."
The old man turned around in surprise and sighed. Of course, he had suspected that something like this might happen one day. But still, he had hoped.
Valerie went to him, hugged him tightly, kissed him on both cheeks, and, raising her hands, slowly walked out of the house.
The old man could no longer contain his emotions. Wailing and sniffing, he followed Valerie, intending to protect her if necessary.
The dog, sensing strangers, paced the yard and barked. He was trying to protect his mistress. His loyal dog heart sensed trouble, but he couldn't just sit still. Suddenly, he saw a stranger standing near the old rowan tree. The man had a gun pointed at Valerie. The dog first ran to his mistress, as if saying goodbye, and then bolted toward the rowan tree. An ear-splitting shot tore through the silence. The dog gave a pitiful yelp and fell.
Valerie, looking at Buster, felt as if she were about to faint. Her heart burned with intense pain. Now, the old man would be all alone—without her and without the four-legged friend his daughter had brought home.
Cold, metal handcuffs clicked onto Valerie's wrists. They didn't stand on ceremony. Getting into the police SUV to the cheers of the officers who had finally caught the fugitive, the girl looked out the window.
The old man was on his knees before the dead dog, looking with longing after the departing car.
The neighbor who had reported the strange girl was standing to the side. In her soul, she was proud of herself for being such a vigilant citizen. Watching the scene, she muttered, "The old man has completely lost his mind! Taking a convict into his house! How is that even possible? What a disgrace! If his late wife knew what her husband was up to in his old age, she'd be turning in her grave! What kind of terrible times are these? He didn't think of himself, but he could have thought of others! What if this convict was crazy and attacked someone else? There are children around! It's dangerous to bring the grandkids to the village now!"
***
Valerie felt detached from everything that happened next. It seemed to her that nothing worse could happen. During the medical exam, a rough nurse gasped as she moved the ultrasound wand over the girl's stomach.
"Well, look at that! Our runaway didn't waste any time! And she said she escaped to say goodbye to her dying grandmother! Did you get pregnant by that old man? Weren't you disgusted to lie with him? Girls these days! They'll do anything for early release! Well, congratulations. Shall we notify the father? How do you prefer—telegram or carrier pigeon?"
Valerie did her best to endure. She knew that everything the nurse said was an attempt to provoke an emotional reaction—a form of entertainment. It said everything about the nurse and nothing about Valerie. Perhaps the woman was bitter at the world because of an unhappy marriage or an inability to have children.
Of course, that didn't justify her. But Valerie, wise beyond her years, no longer wanted to answer hate with hate. It didn't mean she had given up or broken; on the contrary, she was protecting herself.
***
Bill had suffered a brain hemorrhage from the blow he received in the woods. But the case wasn't pursued, as they realized what had happened. The man had been half-undressed, and there were signs of a struggle on the ground, including blood and scraps of Valerie's clothes.
He was sent to a psychiatric institution. He began having frequent panic attacks and memory lapses. He never got married. His parents couldn't take custody of him because of their advanced age.
A few days after returning to the camp, Valerie received a letter from her neighbor, Mrs. Miller. She expressed her condolences to the girl regarding her grandmother's passing. The woman said that the grandmother had been delirious in her final days and often called for Valerie, but she had finally passed away in her sleep during the night.
Valerie's uncle had immediately moved from the halfway house into the apartment. The once-quiet home became a den for all sorts of lowlifes from the neighborhood. As a neighbor, Mrs. Miller had tried to talk sense into the man, but he wouldn't listen.
The girl, who had initially wanted to write back immediately, couldn't do it. She decided to leave things as they were. She couldn't change anything anyway.
In due time, Valerie became a mother. She gave birth to a healthy boy, whom she decided to name Ian, in honor of the old man who had once saved her.
Despite the fact that the pregnancy was neither wanted nor happy, Valerie felt happy for the first time in a long while after giving birth. She was as necessary to the baby as air. The infant wasn't to blame for what had happened. After everything she had been through—long periods on the edge of life and death—the baby had been born regardless. That meant he was perhaps sent from above for a reason.
One day, Valerie was called to the prison administration. A document for her early release lay on the table. Without a word, she signed it. But she felt no joy. Like a bird that had lived in a cramped cage for a long time, she didn't dare spread her tired wings, not trusting herself.
The day of her release arrived. Valerie's dorm mates, who had grown used to her, said their goodbyes with tears in their eyes. The girls working in the sewing shop had secretly made several sets of onesies and sleepers for little Ian.
Valerie and Ian had nowhere to go. After some thought, the girl decided to visit the old man. However, as she approached the familiar house, she realized something terrible had happened.
Weeds grew around the once-tidy home. The windows were dirty and looked lifeless. Out of habit, Valerie ran her hand under the porch. Her fingertips immediately found the rusty tin can. Pulling it out, she saw the key to the house at the bottom.
For a few minutes, Valerie stood with the baby, not daring to enter this painfully familiar place. Finally, she stepped inside. Everything was exactly as it had been on that last, fateful day.
On the table by the window lay an envelope. Unfolding it with trembling hands, Valerie saw a letter addressed to her:
"Dear Valerie,
If you are reading this letter, it means I have gone where I am meant to be—to my girls, my wife and my daughter. You can always visit me. I hope you remember the place where we first met. I am certain that when the time comes, you will return here.
I won't be long-winded... but the time you lived with me was bright and happy. I am very glad that fate brought us together, even under such difficult circumstances. You truly became like a daughter to me. You brought me back to life. You gave me hope.
Unfortunately, I am very old, and my ailments won't allow me to see you again as a woman who is clean before the law. I hug you in my mind... just like then.
This house now belongs to you legally. The documents are all in order (they're in the sideboard). And one request... if you ever get a dog, name him Buster. I buried the old one under the old apple tree in the garden.
Be happy, girl!"
Tears poured from Valerie's eyes in a torrent, falling onto little Ian, who looked at his mother in surprise and touched her eyes with his tiny fingers.
"We will be happy, Grandpa... thank you for everything," Valerie whispered.
She had much to do. But first, she went to visit Mr. Higgins. She remembered the way well.
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