The changes didn't become apparent until the late morning of the following day. The previous night, Daniel, exhausted, had requested a sleeping pill to quiet his mind. So, when he woke up with a buzzing head, he found it hard to believe he was truly awake: the nightstand and the bed across the room were overflowing with packages from the store. Daniel glanced at the packages of sausages, cheeses, pates, fruit, clothes, and shoe boxes, which looked oddly sophisticated amidst the dull, faded surroundings of the hospital, and felt bewildered. Marina Lvovna, entering the room, smiled and shook her head at the sight of all this splendor.

"They brought it last night, can you believe it? They brought it all the way from the city, our village doesn't have stuff like this. They even brought a fancy coffee machine, I'll make you some coffee. They're gonna cook for you separately, like they do for the pakhans. Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving," Daniel replied, his stomach growling in agreement. Yesterday, he could barely stomach any solid food, just liquid rice porridge, but now the sight of all that sausage and cheese made him ravenous.

"I'll whip us up some sandwiches," Marina Lvovna said, quickly sorting through the bags of food. "I left them here so you'd be wowed when you woke up, but I better stash them in the fridge or they'll spoil. That would be a shame."

"That would be a shame," Daniel chuckled, feeling his insides calm down, the annoyance fading away. He'd managed to wrap his head around everything. All right, time to move forward. "And there's too much, you can take half of it home."

"Well, if you don't mind," Marina Lvovna beamed happily. "They said they'll keep bringing food for you, whatever you want, even alcohol."

"Alcohol is unnecessary, obviously," Daniel struggled to lift himself up, grabbing the crutches Marina Lvovna had prepared. He froze, eyeing the bandage on his right leg - Marina Lvovna managed to put it on without waking him up, impeccable service. "I'll go to the bathroom for a bit, all right?"

"Go ahead," she hugged the packages to her ample chest and marched towards the door of the adjacent office. "Just watch your step."

Daniel slipped his feet into the soft, brand-new slippers, feeling a wry grin spread across his face. Despite his mental turmoil, he couldn't deny the comfort. The signs of conformity were unmistakable, and he knew it would happen again. As he reached the common corridor, Daniel nearly stumbled. Instead of the usual two bored guards stationed at each end, there were now four, with two of them sitting in chairs near his room, immediately springing to attention as he approached. They shadowed him closely as he entered the small washroom, where Daniel carefully washed his swollen face, brushed his teeth with caution, mindful of the loose ones, and relieved himself. It was practically a royal escort. Alexander must have been impressed the day before, if he started pulling all the right strings straight away. Sennoy won't be able to reach him now, though he wouldn't visit the hospital to check on him anyway - doing so would have been an admission of homosexuality in the eyes of the other inmates.

Savoring a cup of aromatic Arabica paired with a freshly made ham and cheese sandwich, Daniel drifted into a state of contentment. It amazed him how easily a person can regress to a savage state, he mused absentmindedly, reaching for Hawking's A Brief History of Time, all it took was a simple cup of coffee after putting him through grueling challenges. And there he was, ready to happily wag his tail. As he brought the book to his nose, inhaling the scent of fresh ink and quality paper, he made a conscious effort to banish any self-doubt. No, he wouldn't let himself dwell on negativity.

***

"Tomorrow," Daniel echoed, his gaze fixed on the dense cluster of green-pink hawthorn berries swaying in the breeze. The hawthorn by the window, where Daniel's day began upon waking and ended as he drifted off to sleep, felt tangible and real, unlike the words and voice of Alexander.

"Do you understand?" Alexander's voice was filled with jubilation. "Your release is set for tomorrow. The decree came through today, my contacts have spoken to the warden, and everything is proceeding as planned. Danny, are you there?"

"I'm here," Daniel responded, his eyes still fixed on the intricately carved leaves and vibrant clusters of berries, illuminated by the gentle rays of sunlight.

"You seem to be in shock," Alexander said, his elation somewhat subdued. "Can't believe it, can you? Don't worry, tomorrow it'll sink in. Leave everything behind, they'll provide everything you need along the way. And try to stay calm. I'm getting you out of there, it's settled."

"It's settled," Daniel echoed, letting go of the phone. He couldn't believe it, but it was true. Daniel tossed the phone onto the bed and pinched himself hard, the pain jolting him into reality, confirming that this wasn't a dream. He will be free tomorrow. Four appeals, countless letters to the consulate and prosecutor's office, clinging to hope for justice to prevail - all to no avail. Yet a simple phone call from Alexander, an order given, and fourteen days later, Daniel King, the accused criminal and alleged drug smuggler, was declared innocent. Daniel doubled over, overcome with laughter - silent, uncontrollable, and wild. The phone remained silent on the bed, Alexander having disconnected, realizing the conversation had turned into a one-sided monologue.

Daniel burst into laughter, his eyes fixed on the silent phone. His laughter started as a giggle, but soon grew wilder and more uncontrollable, gaining volume until he was laughing uproariously, barely able to catch his breath. It escalated into a long, uncontrollable groan.

"I got a call saying you were unwell," Marina Lvovna said, breathless from trying to keep up with his laughter. "Daniel, should I give you a sedative?"

"Cicuta," Daniel replied, looking up at her with tired eyes. "Do you have any?"

"No," she gestured with her hands in confusion. "They only provided me with Seroquel and Atarax for you. What happened?"

Daniel bit his lip momentarily upon hearing her response, trying to suppress another bout of hysterical laughter, before blurting out, "Tomorrow I'm leaving, Marina Lvovna. The boss has benevolently allowed me to leave everything behind here; he'll buy everything for me on the way, so feel free to take whatever you need."

Marina lowered herself onto a chair, which creaked under her weight, and let out a heavy sigh.

"You should be grinning ear to ear, Daniel. I was scared that jerk would flip-flop. It takes a heap of cash to turn a case like that around."

"I'm happy, I was chuckling away, you heard me," Daniel turned to the hawthorn tree, finding comfort in its unchanging presence. "I thought I was dreaming, and when I woke up, it'd be worse."

"Definitely, that'd drive me nuts. You're tossed like a twig in a whirlpool," Marina Lvovna took a puff from her vape and coughed, her face turning purple. "But don't worry, we push through the rough patches and all of our troubles will be over. One day, you'll fly off to America and leave all this behind."

"I hope so, but I'm not holding my breath," Daniel shrugged, feeling the aftermath of a short but intense outburst.

"Sennoy showed up," Marina Lvovna whispered confidentially. "He wanted to know why you've been kept in here for so long. I did my best to deflect his questions, but it was hard to hold my ground. His gaze is unsettling, like it's piercing right through you. So, I told him you've been having seizures, that you're out cold for a whole day. I'm not sure if he bought it. He just scoffed disbelievingly and left."

"Of course, he didn't buy it," Daniel muttered, irritatedly adjusting his bandage. "People with epilepsy have seizures all the time, wet themselves, diabetics slip into comas, and no one bats an eye here. Tell him the truth and let him deal with it!"

"That you're under the thumb of that oligarch? No, let someone else break it to him. In Russia, messengers bearing bad news often had their heads chopped off, if you know what I mean," Marina glanced around and swiftly changed the subject, her unease palpable. "Anyway, is it true you won't be taking anything with you?"

"That's right," Daniel confirmed, scanning the room. Though small, the prison infirmary was equipped with a television, a small refrigerator, and even a coffee machine - a scaled-down version of what Sennoy had in the house, minus the coffee machine.

"Then I'll take it," Marina Lvovna furrowed her brow, clearly pondering the logistics of transporting everything. "But I'll have to share with Pyotr though."

Early in the morning, Daniel packed as instructed. He stowed two sets of underwear, one change of clothing, and a pair of fresh Salomon sneakers in a small shopping bag. He drank two cups of coffee; nothing else appealed to him due to his excitement. The sight of food even made him feel nauseous. The process continued as he was escorted to the warden's office. There, he quickly read through papers, though his comprehension was lacking. He copied from a previously prepared draft stating he had no complaints, signed a few more documents, absentmindedly setting them aside. Even until the last moment, he couldn't quite believe that freedom awaited him. It wasn't until he stood before the prison's main entrance that the reality sank in. He looked around in disbelief, still wary of a potential trick, and shuddered when a familiar voice called out imperiously.

"Dashka, Dashka! Daniel, wait."

Daniel awkwardly turned around, nearly losing his balance, and balled his fists as Sennoy attempted to push past the two unmoving guards.

"I'm just here to talk! Just a word! Just a damn word, I won't harm him!" Sennoy trembled as he was pushed back, but tried to advance once more.

"What do you want, jerk?" Daniel sneered disdainfully. "Came to check if I'm really leaving?"

"I..." Sennoy swallowed hard, his throat visibly jerking, and cast a guilty glance. "I made a mistake."

"Fuck you, Sennoy. I hope you rot. Right here in this hellhole," Daniel gripped the uncomfortably warm iron doorknob, involuntarily holding his breath - he could touch doorknobs now, touch anything. He was no longer untouchable; he was human.

"You're going to him, huh?" Sennoy jerked, attempting to shove the guards aside, and stumbled with the effort. "Don't be an idiot, Daniel! He's the reason you're in here!"

"And you crushed me in here" Daniel interjected sharply. "Enjoy the rest of your sentence, jerk."

"I'll find you when I'm out. You hear me? And then we'll speak calmly," Sennoy hissed, taking a hit from a baton, but repeated doggedly, bracing himself for another hit. "I'll find you!"

"By the time you're out, I'll be long gone from this country," Daniel declared firmly, truly believing it, and stepped forward, hearing the sounds of scuffling behind him.

Outside, a gleaming silver Mercedes S-Class awaited him, an utterly out-of-place sight in this rustic countryside. Daniel offered a faint grin - Alexander's choice of a luxury car emphasized his confidence in the decision. It was unnecessary; Daniel could have made do with an old UAZ, the most common form of local transport that occasionally ventured into the area. The driver stood by the door, patiently waiting for Daniel to hobble over to the car.

As he got inside, he was greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning, a subtle hint of sea salt, and a well-groomed man in his thirties with professionally cold eyes and a polite smile.

"Hello, Daniel. I'm Vladimir, Mr. Bystritsky's associate. I'll be accompanying you to Moscow."

"Nice to meet you, Vladimir," Daniel hesitantly shook his hand, then settled back into the soft seat. Even such a simple gesture as a handshake felt surreal, driving home the fact that he was truly out of prison, leaving the entire criminal world behind. His palm felt clammy and uncomfortably warm after the handshake, and Daniel instinctively wiped it on his jeans until he noticed Vladimir's scrutinizing gaze.

"Is everything all right?" Vladimir asked cautiously, and having received a nod, briefly ordered the driver. "Let's go."

Daniel shook noticeably on the road. He clenched his fists, then slumped nervously on the seat, gazing eagerly at the landscape outside the window. A surreal picture after six and a half months: a luxury car, a civilized companion in an expensive business suit, open space outside the window, and no bars. Vladimir watched him stealthily and delicately at the same time, texting periodically to someone. Apparently reporting that he'd gotten a companion with a leaky roof. Daniel unclenched the fist clenched on his T-shirt and forced himself to relax. If he was perceived as a psycho, they wouldn't take his words seriously, and he needed to be heard. To finally realize that he wasn't guilty.

Daniel didn't expect receiving any compensation for the emotional toll he had endured; he simply wanted to be released in peace, to finally breathe freely and live without constant fear. After that, once he had regained his strength, he planned to confront all those who had wronged him. Alternatively, he might try to forget them if the pain became too overwhelming to bear.

At the airport, during the check-in, Daniel stumbled backward, overwhelmed by a flashback from Sheremetyevo. Vladimir steadied him gently, guiding him towards the coffee shop. There, he placed a blister pack of pills in front of Daniel and spoke softly, "It seems you're getting anxious. I've been informed and given medication. Ivan will fetch some water for you."

"I'm all right, it's just... everything started going wrong at the airport last time. I was arrested there," Daniel explained, feeling flustered. "So, it's making me uneasy, you know?"

From Vladimir's composed, icy gaze, it was evident he wasn't inclined to empathize. His sole objective was to transport the potentially unstable criminal to Moscow without incident. He nudged the blister pack towards Daniel and spoke deliberately, enunciating each word as if addressing a child.

"Then it's all the more reason to take your medication. It will help you relax and sleep during the flight. It's just a sedative, Daniel. I sometimes take sedatives before flying too, it's quite common," he took two bottles of water from Ivan and passed one to Daniel. Daniel hesitated momentarily before popping a tablet out of the blister and swallowing it with water.

The effects of the pill started to kick in during the ascent. A pleasant sense of calm washed over him, easing his anxiety, and Daniel found himself yawning as the plane took off, settling comfortably into his seat. A fleeting image of Sennoy's contorted face flashed before his eyes, vowing to find him. Daniel drifted into a warm, tranquil sleep, silently wishing Sennoy would die, preferably as a rooster.

Vladimir gently woke him upon arrival, still assessing his condition. Daniel disembarked the plane with a stoic expression - he needed to display mental strength and composure. He maintained the same demeanor as he walked through the airport to the underground parking lot, but his resolve wavered at the sight of a familiar face - not Alexander, thankfully, but Georgy, who regarded him with hostility.

"Well, hello, Daniel," Georgy scrutinized him disdainfully. "You're lucky Sasha has a soft spot for you, or you'd still be rotting in prison. I am Sasha's head of security, so you'll be seeing me around. I suggest you don't cause any more trouble for me, I won't be lenient with you. Understand?"

"Hello. Understood," Daniel responded calmly, instinctively straightening up as if facing a guard. The prison conditioning, now ingrained in his subconscious, kicked in. It wasn't worth wasting energy on Georgy, who, clouded by bias, would let words wash over him, evident from their initial exchange.

"Get in the car," Georgy gestured towards the black Mercedes, and Daniel complied without hesitation.

Georgy settled into the opposite seat, holding the phone to his ear and responding tersely.

"Yeah, I did. Yeah, relatively ok," he glanced at Daniel, who remained still. "I'll fill you in later. Yeah, they're scheduling him for a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Yeah, I'll handle it. Understood. Okay," he ended the call and turned back to Daniel. "So, here are the terms: You'll be staying at the 'Ship', it's a condo complex where Sasha owns a third of the units. You'll have a bodyguard with you at all times. If you need anything, you'll let the bodyguard know, not me or Sasha. When asked to do something, you comply. Starting tomorrow, you'll undergo a thorough medical examination. Given your appearance, you might benefit from some cosmetic procedures to address the scars."

"It's not needed," Daniel interjected hastily, his hand instinctively reaching for the still tender bruise on his forehead.

"It's mandatory," Georgy countered firmly. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're asked to do something, you do it. No arguments."

"Understood," Daniel replied, lips pressed tightly together. It seemed Alexander had insisted on restoring his toy to its former glory lost in prison.

"Good," Georgy affirmed, exhaling with satisfaction. "Any other questions?"

"Yes. When will I get to see Alexander?"

"I can't answer that," Georgy shrugged apathetically. "Sasha's tied up with three projects right now, and he doesn't have time for you. Plus, from what I gather, you were pretty hysterical during your last call, so you better get your nerves in check first. You can't be causing him any more trouble, got it?" Georgy's eyes flashed warningly. "He's got enough on his plate without you. I don't know why the hell he pulled you out of there, but it's his call, and I'm not going to question it."

"I understand," Daniel replied, turning away to avoid the disdainful gaze. Georgy remained silent, focusing on his laptop and typing away. The drive to Moscow was filled with silence; neither of them felt like talking. As they approached the underground parking lot of an upscale high-rise building surrounded by a tall wrought-iron fence, Daniel felt a lump form in his throat – it was a new kind of prison, albeit one adorned with luxury, but still a prison. And the guard was there in an instant.

"This is Maxim," Georgy introduced Maxim, and Daniel observed his shadow cautiously. The shadow was robustly built, muscular, and wore a stern expression – if you swapped his nondescript gray business suit for a uniform, he'd pass for a prison guard. The only difference was the attire. "Maxim will take over from Oleg. All right, I've got to go. Max, the phone," he gestured to Daniel and got back into the car.

"Hello," Maxim, who had remained silent until then, suddenly spoke up. "Give me the phone, please."

"But..." Daniel hesitated, reluctant to surrender the phone – it was his only link to the outside world, even without internet access. Nonetheless, he handed it over. Maxim calmly pocketed the phone and stepped aside. "The elevator's that way."

The elevator ascended to the tenth floor with a soft jingle, coming to a gentle halt. Daniel focused on the intricate veins of the beige marble, deliberately avoiding catching sight of Maxim in the mirror. With a blank expression, he stepped into the spacious corridor, adorned with elegant wine-colored carpets mirroring the hues of the marble. Glancing around quickly, he noted only two distant apartments on the floor, leaving little chance for interaction with neighbors. The thought pricked at him, but Daniel pushed aside the anxiety.

Entering the apartment, he observed a blend of luxury and impersonality: genuine dark wood floors, sand-colored walls adorned with replicas of famous paintings, and a large plasma screen facing a compact gray sofa. The modern, minimalist furniture complemented the floors, while two tall potted plants stood symmetrically by the panoramic window, flanking the sliding heavy curtains in harmony with the wall tones. Maxim gave Daniel a tour of the apartment, demonstrating the kitchen setup in case he needed to reheat food or make coffee, and showcasing the spacious built-in closet, which Daniel noted apprehensively held not just fall and winter attire, but also some summer clothing. Was Alexander planning to keep him here for an extended period?

"Two bedrooms available, I'll take the second," Maxim concluded. "Meals are prepared by Mr. Bystritsky's chef; you can specify your preferences, but advance notice is preferred. Lunch will be served in half an hour; Vladimir mentioned you haven't eaten since morning. Provide a list of your preferred dishes, and I'll arrange them. Tomorrow morning, refrain from eating as we'll head to the clinic for tests. If you need anything, don't hesitate to inform me or my colleague; we're always nearby."

"Thank you," Daniel offered a wistful smile, reminiscent of the constant presence of guards at the prison. "I'll go to my room if that's all."

"Very well," Maxim nodded crisply, his demeanor reminiscent of military precision.