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– Didn’t I tell you? – I encourage her, already turning my attention to her torn-out sweatpants.

Unlike bruised knees, this hole isn’t going anywhere and won’t heal itself, even if I pour an entire can of antiseptic on it. Too bad, because the suit was brand new, and I was counting on it being inherited by one of the younger twins after her. It would have been just right for next spring. Although, perhaps, if I sewed on some bright applique…

– Margarita Alexandrovna, – Jeanne, my assistant and one of the kindest and most innocent souls on the planet, looks into the room. – There’s someone to see you… there’s someone here to see you.

In response to my questioning glance, she strangely shuts up and quickly disappears behind the door.

I see. Mentally wishing myself the patience to survive another meeting with someone from the office of that heartless moonshiner. What’s his name? Krieg? Krag?

– Twig, – I grumble to myself, and Julia starts giggling, awkwardly covering her mouth with her palm because she recently lost a baby tooth.