1.

"My love left my heart years ago. I’ve forgotten his looks and his face. Yet, I keep searching for any trace that could lead me to him.

'Baltov,' the city born from the ashes of World War II, forged in the flames of brutal war until it turned into a landfill of eternal misery. Heavy clouds crushed the sunlight, covering the city with a dark veil at its edges.

The archive librarian entered, holding a small flashlight to light the way. She carried a smaller, softer light of her own. There, in front of her, stood countless archive books documenting the details of residential buildings in Baltov and the names of residents. The books piled up in terrifying numbers along the narrow, dust-coated corridor, glittering with silvery and coppery hues.

The librarian, who looked like an old man in his late forties, his face weighed down by impending wrinkles, stepped forward and said in a calm voice:

'Miss Novak, it’s been two hours now. Who knows? Maybe you’ll spend the next twelve here as well. Will you find what you’re looking for?'

He shone his flashlight on her hair, which glowed with a deep wheat-brown shade as her head tilted downward.

Miss Novak leaned against one of the old archive shelves, glancing at him before apologizing:

'Sorry, Mr. Herbert. I’ve wasted so much time, and I truly apologize for that. But I feel I’m close to finding what I’m looking for. Could you please give me thirty more minutes? I promise I’ll find it soon.'

Herbert, the librarian, replied with an encouraging smile:

'It’s alright, don’t worry. After all, not many people come to the archive these days, especially not for some investigative scoop. Most days, it’s completely empty. Miss Novak, I just came to check on you. It’s fine to take a little extra time; we need to support the youth these days.'

Lydia Novak smiled gratefully as she watched his flashlight fade behind the worn-out door leading to the second corridor near the staircase of old records at the end of the first path.

Silence reclaimed the place, with the dim light of the old lamp casting faint illumination on the archive library’s loft. Miss Novak grabbed another book and began flipping through it quickly, moving on to yet another archive book. Her eyes darted between names and descriptions, stopping at photos of abducted victims from those incidents. Finally, she held one of the archives with "Valentin" etched on its edges.

Air caught in her lungs for a few seconds, leaving her unable to breathe, until she felt a warm hand rest on her shoulder, followed by a heavy voice calmly saying:

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

'It’s okay... keep going.'

She felt warmth spread through her heart and continued.

---

2.

I feel miserable every time I wake up, facing the harsh reality with my own eyes. How I once loved my job, and now I loathe it so deeply.

July 21, 2019 - German Blacksmith Cemetery

A small group of no more than nine guests stood scattered in the back. The priest concluded his sermon with an "Amen." The eldest and only son of the deceased stepped forward to carry his father’s casket with the help of two other men.

After the burial ceremony ended, the guests offered their condolences and left. Under the cloudy sky and amidst the gloomy mist, the son stood alone, gazing at the ground, then at his father’s grave, and finally at his surroundings. Sadness enveloped him, especially as he realized he was standing among the dead. He decided it was time to head home.

He hailed a taxi, as the cemetery was only a mile and a half from his house.

Upon reaching the doorstep of his old home, the worn-out rug greeted him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a small note—a letter lying at the front door.

He opened it to find:

"To Alex Kovach, we offer our deepest condolences for the loss of your father, Edward. We’ve turned a blind eye to the overdue rent for the past few months, but we’ve decided to extend the payment deadline by only two additional weeks. After that, legal action will be taken."

He opened the wooden door of his apartment and tossed the letter onto a pile of other papers. They were debts inherited from his father’s gambling habits. Alex muttered sarcastically:

"The father’s debts become the son’s burden."

He sat in his damp chair, soaked from the moisture of the rainy weather seeping through the window. He couldn’t resist the heavy drowsiness that overcame him. It felt like he slept for over an hour before his phone’s loud ring and violent vibration woke him.

He quickly answered—it was an important call. The caller was his professor, Dragomir.

"Yeah, hello, Professor Dragomir…"

The other replied in a deep voice:

"Hello, son. I heard about what happened, and I want to offer my deepest condolences."

Alex smiled faintly, looking out the window, and replied:

"Thank you, really, Professor. It’s unfortunate, but I feel a strange sense of relief, like something heavy was lifted off my chest—something that was eating away at me."

The professor responded:

"I know it takes time. You need some moments to process what happened. You see, there are times when someone feels this way, especially when they become an orphan. But it’s also a chance to rediscover yourself and rebuild in this harsh world. If the sky throws stones at you, use them to build a ladder to climb toward what’s rightfully yours."

Alex took a deep breath and replied:

"Yes, Professor, I will... I absolutely will."

The professor added:

"Have you decided whether to work with me at Valentin Hospital? You’ve got a natural talent for surgery—a gift I don’t want you to bury and regret later. Have you made up your mind about my previous offer?"

Alex closed his eyes, reflecting on the void, the despair, and the strange calm he felt, then said:

"Yes, my decision is to accept. If it’ll help me pay off the debts and my university fees, my hand is extended to help."

The professor chuckled politely and said:

"Glad to hear it. I want you to come today to the old hospital north of Grandmother Rose Street Square."

Alex paused, realizing this decision could change his life completely. He finally whispered:

"Alright, I’ll be there in an hour, Professor Valentin Dragomir."

The professor replied:

"You made the right choice, Alex Kovach."

Alex hung up the phone, then stood by the window, watching the sunset fade behind the misty clouds

. A deep fear stirred within him, though this wasn’t the time to let it show.