“You’re going to tell us where those damn documents are anyway!” the man hissed through his teeth.
Olga was trembling all over. A filthy guy, reeking of sweat and something even fouler, had her by the throat.
Two strangers had cornered her in a dark alleyway.
“Why are you wasting time with her?!” the second one barked. “A couple of hits to the ribs and she’ll spill everything like a songbird!”
“I don’t know!” Olga’s voice broke. “I really don’t know!”
Vitya… my husband… he never brought his work home!
“That’s what you say!” the man squinted. “But in reality?”
“Never! We had a rule: not a word about work at home!”
Finally, he loosened his grip. Olga slowly slid down the wall, collapsing onto the wet asphalt.
“Alright, let’s assume you’re telling the truth,” the second one said. “But then you have to help us.”
Think hard! Where could he have hidden the papers? Where did they go?
Tears streamed down Olga’s cheeks without stopping.
“You don’t understand! If those were important documents, he would never have told me! Never! He knew — better to die than to put me in danger! He made sure I didn’t know anything! Please understand!”
“Listen carefully,” the first man said harshly.
“As soon as you find anything that looks like it — you call us. Immediately.”
Don’t open it, don’t touch it — just call. Otherwise, we’ll find you.
First, we’ll pass you around… from hand to hand. And then we’ll kill you slowly. Got it?
Olga nodded faintly. The man leaned down and mockingly slipped a business card under the collar of her dress.
“Remember it well.”
The men left. They got into a black car and disappeared. And Olga was left sitting on the cold, wet asphalt.
She had no strength to get up. Not an ounce.
“Drunk again! Morning’s just started, and she’s already lying there! Youth these days! Shameless!”
Shuffling footsteps approached. But a moment later, the voice turned from gruff to concerned:
“Olga? What happened? Why are you here?!”
She opened her eyes. Her neighbor — Valentina Sergeyevna — was standing in front of her.
Half an hour later, Olga was sitting in the woman’s kitchen, drinking tea with jam and sobbing as she told everything.
“Vitya always loved writing about things others were too afraid to even think about.”
In his last days, he was strange, tense.
Once, he mentioned he had material that could bring down people at the very top.
He didn’t say anything more. I begged him… pleaded with him not to get involved. But he just brushed me off.
And a couple of weeks later, he was hit by a car right outside our home.
Now Olga was sure — it wasn’t an accident. And the driver was never found.
Valentina sighed heavily.
“You need to leave, Olenka. At least for a couple of years. Until things settle down.”
“They’ll find me anywhere,” Olga whispered. “Even at the ends of the earth.”
“Think,” the neighbor stroked her hand. “Maybe somewhere they’d never think to look?”
Olga pondered.
“There’s an old house. Far away. It belonged to his grandmother. We were there only once. When we planned to sell it.”
“Did you sell it?”
“No. The deal fell through. We forgot about it. It’s still empty.”
“Then go there!” Valentina said firmly.
“I’ll give you a number. My nephew works in a department that deals with major criminals.”
He’s coming soon. I’ll tell him everything. And you, call if anything happens.
Don’t delay. These people will do anything for money.
“Thank you… Thank you so much.”
Olga quit her job the same day. She quickly packed her things, visited her husband’s grave, cried, and said goodbye.
That night, a train took her in the opposite direction from the village.
She decided to travel indirectly — so no one would guess where she was heading.
The village was still asleep when she got off the bus. The morning was gray and damp.
Everything looked just as it had the last time, many years ago. As if time had stood still here.
The house greeted her with gloom and neglect. Dry firewood in the shed was an unexpected discovery.
And inside — to her surprise — it was still sturdy.
After two weeks of cleaning, painting, and repairs, Olga turned it into a cozy refuge.
She found a job as a waitress at a local café but asked to be moved to the kitchen — to stay out of sight.
The owner promised to transfer her once a spot opened. Her salary was enough — life became simple, but peaceful.
A week before New Year’s, Olga was walking home from work.
Only one streetlamp lit the village, and it swung in the wind.
Snow swirled gently in the air. She smiled at her thoughts.
Like in childhood — as if the Snow Queen might fly out from around the corner at any moment.
She felt lighter now. The nightmares had receded. She almost believed she wouldn’t be found. Almost.
And then her attention was caught by a strange bump in the snowdrift.
Right under the streetlamp. Everything else was evenly covered in snow, but this — as if something had been buried or had fallen there…
But one strange mound in the snow drew Olga’s attention.
Something about its shape was unnatural, too precise.
Her heart clenched sharply, and she instinctively rushed toward it.
Under the light, she saw… a dog. Large, emaciated.
The dog lay curled up, nearly frozen.
Its body was caked in dirt and snow, with bones jutting beneath the skin.
But what struck her most were the eyes — dark, sorrowful, full of hopelessness.
“Oh, you poor thing. Planning to die here under the lamp? No way! Come on, up you get!”
She tried to lift the dog, but it was too weak. Its legs gave out.
So Olga knelt beside it, grabbed its front paws, slung them over her shoulder, and struggled to her feet.
Step by step, barely managing, she dragged the animal home. Even skinny, it was bigger than it looked.
“Hang in there, my dear. I’ll warm you up. And feed you, I promise.”
She gently laid the dog beside the stove. It tried to sit, but its legs buckled.
Olga quickly brought an old blanket, spread it out, and placed the dog on it.
“There you go. Rest.”
While she stoked the fire and made food, she kept glancing at her new guest.
Its body still trembled, water dripped from its fur onto the floor. Only after an hour did the shivering lessen.
Olga placed a bowl of warm soup in front of him.
“I don’t know what you like, but let’s start with this.”
The dog licked her hand, as if gratefully. He ate just a little — a couple of spoonfuls, then closed his eyes.
Olga gently pushed the bowl aside.
“Alright, rest. If you need anything — wake me up, okay?”
The dog let out a deep sigh, as if in reply.
In the morning, Olga awoke with the feeling that someone was watching her.
Opening her eyes, she was a little startled, then remembered the night before and relaxed.
“Want to go out?”
The dog, who had been sitting nearby, wagged his tail quietly.
After the walk, Olga put on the kettle, noticed the dog’s bowl was empty, and filled it with pasta and canned meat.
“Sorry, I don’t know what’s right for you. You’ll eat what I eat. And now… what should I call you?”
The dog ate slowly, with pleasure, occasionally glancing at his new owner.
“I’ll call you Jack. Sound good?”
He gave a short bark.
“You’ve got a voice too!” Olga laughed.
She sat down to drink her tea while Jack began exploring the house. He sniffed the corners, the old stains on the walls, while Olga watched him with a smile.
Suddenly, the dog stopped near an old cabinet. He sniffed the floor, nudged it with his nose.
Then he pawed at the boards and barked. Olga approached.
“What did you find? The floor looks normal.”
But Jack wouldn’t calm down. He sniffed again, growled. Olga knelt beside him.
And only now did she notice: there was a neat square patch on the floor, like an embedded lid.
About thirty centimeters by thirty. Maybe some kind of hiding place?
Her thoughts raced. Could there be something terrifying inside?.. But curiosity overpowered fear.
Olga went to the kitchen, took a large knife, and came back.
She carefully pried up one board — it came loose easily. Then another.
Inside was a small wooden box.
She pulled it out. Her hands were trembling. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest.
The box wasn’t locked. Olga opened the lid… and froze.
It was a blue folder. The one — with the letter “V” monogram — that she had bought for Vitya.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She understood immediately: these were the documents. The very thing he had died for.
Next to it lay money and a flash drive.
“Vitya…” she whispered through her tears. “Was it worth it?”
She opened the folder and skimmed the first lines.
Ten minutes later, it was clear: if these papers became public, the city’s elite would collapse like a house of cards.
The mayor, businessmen, officials — all of them.
Olga jumped up, grabbed her bag, and pulled out a business card — her neighbor’s nephew. Matvey.
Now it was time to act. And she had to start with him.
The man listened to her carefully, never interrupting. Then he said:
“My condolences. I knew Viktor.
He was supposed to give me these documents… but then he disappeared.
I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there by evening.”
A pause. His voice turned serious:
“Olga, be very careful. Extremely. And it’s best if you leave the house.
Right now. Wait for me somewhere away from there.”
Olga didn’t understand. Why? Nobody knew where she was. She had hidden herself perfectly…
And comforted by that thought, she slowly walked back home. To wait.
Olga and Jack went out for an evening walk. The village slept under a blanket of winter silence.
Suddenly Olga noticed: at the very edge of the village, where the road turned toward the forest, a car had stopped — black, nondescript, but familiar.
It was the same type of car used by the two men who once cornered her in the alley.
Her heart froze. She ran home, grabbed the folder with the documents, her phone, and rushed back out.
“Jack! With me!”
They sprinted into the forest. It might not have been the smartest decision, but at least it gave her time.
Once they were hidden among the trees, Olga dialed Matvey.
“They’re here! They came! What do I do?!”
A curse word came from the other end.
“I’m on my way. One more hour. Hide. I’ll think of something.”
Meanwhile, the car was slowly moving down the snowy road.
Olga knew: the villagers were kind but too trusting. They probably gave the visitors the directions they asked for.
She darted between trees, not knowing where to go. The dog looked at her in confusion.
At one point, Olga quickly hid the folder in the hollow of an old tree and walked away, leading her pursuers away from the hiding spot.
Ten minutes later, they found her.
“Well, sweetheart? Miss us?” one of the men mocked.
“Get lost! What do you want?!”
“What do we want?!” the second one pulled out a gun. “Call off the dog.
Or I’ll shoot him. I don’t need him.”
“What does Jack have to do with this?! He’s not even mine! I just picked him up! Don’t touch him!”
Olga tried to shield the dog, but Jack, as if sensing danger, stepped in front of her, baring his massive teeth.
The thugs moved forward. At that moment, one of them suddenly froze.
“Wait. Look!”
Somewhere deep in the forest, the sound of engines and voices could be heard.
“No freaking way… SWAT!” one of the thugs blurted out.
And right then, Jack, like a true service dog, lunged forward.
He clamped down on the hand holding the gun. The weapon flew into the snow with a clatter.
The man screamed in pain, but the dog didn’t let go.
In less than a minute, the forest filled with uniformed men.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay…” Olga whispered, trembling all over.
She was hugging Jack tightly, crying — from relief, from fear, from the horror she had endured.
A young man of about thirty-five approached her.
Olga immediately knew — it was Matvey.
A whole year passed. A year full of anxiety, interrogations, court hearings.
Olga was protected the entire time — by Matvey and Jack.
When the last defendant ended up behind bars, Matvey smiled warmly and said:
“That’s it. Now you can breathe freely.”
Olga could barely hold back tears. Not from fear anymore — but from relief and gratitude.
She started packing. Matvey came in after her.
“Maybe stay? Just for tonight. We can sit, celebrate, talk…”
Olga sat down on the edge of the bed. Why should she leave? They had lived side by side for nearly a year.
During that time, they had become closer than family.
Even the fears that once seemed insurmountable had now faded.
It was scary to admit their feelings. But they did it.
They got through the pain, the loneliness.
And three months later, they had a quiet but very warm wedding.
So in Olga’s heart, alongside the love for her husband, there was room for a new life — with the man who didn’t let her drown, and the dog who became more than a pet — the guardian of her new path.