Her husband took her to an abandoned cabin to die, but there an unexpected encounter awaited her.

“Larisa, there’s not much left… Come on, darling, you can do it!”

She could barely move her legs. Each step was an incredible effort, as if a huge weight were hanging from them.

“I want to shower…” Larisa whispered, feeling her strength finally leaving her. “Gleb, I can’t anymore. I really can’t!”

Her husband looked at her with feigned concern, but there was a certain strangeness in his eyes. How had she not noticed that icy gleam before?

“You can do it, darling, you can do it! Look, here’s our goal: the little house!”

Larisa followed his gaze. In front of them rose a building that looked like a cross between an old barn and a fairy-tale cottage on chicken legs.

“Are you… sure the healer lives here?” Her voice trembled treacherously with tiredness and fear.

“Of course, dear! Come on, just a little bit!”

Larisa climbed onto the sloping porch almost mechanically, as if in a dream. Gleb laid her down on a wooden bench and suddenly smiled contentedly. A smile that touched her heart.

“Now you can rest… For a while.”

She looked around the gloomy room: cobwebs, dust, dampness. She looked at her husband fearfully:

“Gleb… No one lives here!”

“That’s right!” she laughed. “No one has lived here for about twenty years. And anyway, no one has searched here for a long time. If you’re lucky, you’ll die a natural death. And if not…” she paused, “wild animals will find you.”

“Gleb! What are you saying?! Wake up!”

He straightened, and the mask of a loving husband disappeared forever.

“I asked you to register the business in my name! But you were as stubborn as a mule!” he snapped. “Do you even understand what it cost me to tolerate you? To sleep with you? You disgust me!”

“And my money doesn’t disgust me?” Larisa whispered.

“It’s MY money!” she growled. “It’s mine, I just need to complete the paperwork. Everyone knows how crazy you are with all kinds of devilry. I tell everyone you’ve lost your mind and gone to the desert with a charlatan. I tried to persuade you, but…” He opened his arms theatrically, “you’re stubborn! Did you like my plan? I don’t even need to buy a coffin!”

His laughter sounded like a dog barking. Larisa closed her eyes: it’s a nightmare, just a nightmare…

But the slamming door was all too real.

She tried to get up; she needed to run, it was all a joke! But her body wouldn’t obey her. Lately, she’d been running out of breath quickly, as if someone were sucking her life energy dry.

“Now it’s clear who…” flashed through her thoughts.
She no longer had any strength. Larisa gave in and fell into a restless sleep.

They married five years ago. Gleb appeared out of nowhere; penniless, but with a charm that swept her off her feet. Tired of loneliness and work, Larisa fell madly in love.

But she was warned… Everyone around her said he just needed money, that he spent his money on other women. She discovered the truth a year ago. After that, she started having health problems: sometimes with her heart, sometimes with her stomach, sometimes all at once. The doctors explained it as nervous breakdowns.
She tried not to worry. She really tried! But how can you not be nervous when you love someone who betrayed you?

And now she’s a rich and successful woman, but she’s so sick that she won’t be able to get out of this wreck in the forest. Her death will remain a secret.
In a deep sleep, Larisa heard a rustling sound. Someone was nearby. Her heart sank: could it really be animals?

—Don’t be afraid!

She shuddered:

—Little girl! Where are you from?

A little girl about seven or eight years old was sitting across from her. The girl sat down next to her.

—I’ve been here before. When he brought you, I hid.
Larisa sat up:

—Are you alive? How did you end up here?

—I come here alone. When I argue with Dad, I hide here. Let him worry!

—Is he hurting you?

—No! He’s just forcing me to help. And I don’t want to. Why do children have to work? If I don’t listen, he makes me wash the dishes. A mountain to climb! The girl opened her arms.

Larisa smiled weakly:

“Maybe he’s just tired. Try giving you a task you can handle. I’d do anything for my dad if he were alive.”
“Did your dad die?”

“Yes, a long time ago.”

“Everyone will die,” the girl declared with childish philosophy.

“You mean your dad will die too?!” The girl perked up.

“People die when they get old. It happens.”

The girl thought:

“Mom was sick… She went with the angels. I cry often because I miss you. I’ll help Dad so he doesn’t die!” She looked at Larisa. “And were you brought here to die too?”

“It seems so…”

“Why not in the hospital?”

A tear rolled down Larisa’s cheek.

“He decided it himself… So I wouldn’t get cured.”

“You scoundrel!” The girl was indignant. “I’m going after Dad! Do you know what he’s like? He cures everyone in the village! Only he couldn’t cure Mom…” Her voice trembled.

“How is that?”

The girl went to the door,

The girl went to the door, her little figure outlined by the moonlight leaking through the cracks.

“My dad is a healer,” she said firmly, turning back to Larisa. “He heals everyone in the village. Only… only he couldn’t heal Mom. But he will heal you!”

Larisa blinked in disbelief. “Your father? A healer… here?”

“Yes!” The girl nodded eagerly. “He comes sometimes. When I hide here, he always finds me. He says the forest has ears.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “Maybe the forest told him you’re here too.”

Before Larisa could answer, the sound of footsteps crunched outside the cabin. Slow. Heavy. Each one closer than the last.

Her heart pounded wildly. Gleb? Had he come back to finish her off?

The door creaked open. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood there, carrying a lantern. His beard was silver, his eyes deep and unreadable. He looked at the girl first, then at Larisa—frail, trembling, half-collapsed on the bench.

“You brought her here?” His voice was low but not unkind.

The girl ran to him, hugging his waist. “No, Papa! The bad man brought her. He wants her to die!”

The man’s gaze hardened. He placed the lantern on the floor and knelt beside Larisa. His hands, large and calloused, hovered just above her chest, as if sensing something.

“She has been poisoned,” he murmured.

Larisa’s eyes widened. “Poisoned?”

“Yes.” His tone left no doubt. “Slow poison. Not enough to kill you quickly, but enough to make you weaker each day. To drain you… until you disappear.”

Her breath caught. It all made sense now—her sudden illnesses, the exhaustion, the way no doctor could explain.

Gleb.

The healer’s eyes narrowed. “Whoever did this to you wanted you gone… quietly.”

Larisa grasped his wrist, desperation burning through her weakness. “Can you save me?”

The healer looked at his daughter, then back at Larisa. His answer was steady, resolute:

“I will try. But if I save you… you must promise me one thing.”

“What?” she whispered.

“That you won’t go back to him. Because if you do—next time, no healer in this world will be able to bring you back.”