The Price of Trust (Part 2).

"Dad, dad, why didn't we invite mom with us?" asked little Elena, the child's speech was clear, but some sounds were still difficult for her, but even so, for her two and a half years she was a very talkative little girl.

Marcus squeezed the girl's little palm in his big hand, "Because we have to surprise mom. It's her birthday today," he explained and led the child into the spacious, bright room.

The baby opened her mouth in admiration when she saw a sea of flowers as if she was in a fairy-tale world. Flowers were everywhere - on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor. They had a real magical room in their house, which she did not even know about.

Marcus grinned. It seems that in Elena's head, her father's magical abilities jumped by several points. All he had to do was to order a couple of hundred flowers in advance.

"Wah, how beautiful!!!" the girl clapped her hands and jumped happily, "Dad, what is this flower? I've never seen one like this." Elena picked up a white calla from the floor and handed it to her father.

The man took the flower in his hand, sat down on the floor and sat the baby on his lap, "Oh, this is a very interesting flower, it's called a calla. Your mom loves them the most. Do you want me to tell you a story about how this flower appeared?"

"Yes! Of course!" Elena shone, her dad often told her various interesting stories, and she did not go to bed until she listened to at least a couple of these.

"Okay, then listen," Marcus made his daughter more comfortable and began his story,

"In fact, there are two legends that tell how this flower appeared.

According to one of them, a long time ago in Africa, there lived two people who loved each other very much. But they could not be together, as their tribes were fighting with each other."

"Like in the story of Romeo and Juliet?" the girl interrupted the story with her question.

"W-what? Hey, how do you even know about them? What kind of tales does your mother tell you?" Marcus laughed and pinched his daughter by the nose, but overall she was right,

"Although yes, a bit like Romeo and Juliet. So, the girl's dad loved his daughter very much, so he agreed that she and the guy she loved would get married, and there would be peace between the tribes. The girl was so happy that the simple flowers on her cape turned into beautiful snow-white callas. This is the story."

"What is the second legend?" Elena asked.

"Oh, the second one...," the man thoughtfully scratched his nose, wondering if something like that was worth a child's ears, "I'll tell you if you promise not to tell your mom about this, otherwise she will scold me."

The little girl nodded her head and moved closer to her father, Marcus smiled as he watched her vivid reaction.

"According to the second legend, the leader of one tribe, who was angry and merciless, fell in love with a girl from another tribe, but she refused him. He did not surrender, attacked her tribe and captured the girl, after which he ordered the wedding to begin. The girl did not want to become the wife of such a bad man, so she threw herself into the fire in her white wedding dress and turned into a beautiful calla."

"I don't like the second story, the first one is better," the little girl muttered and folded her arms over her chest in protest.

"Ahaha, my princess, this is just a story, but even such stories teach us something. For example, protecting your love like the first couple did, and not giving up until the very end, like the girl in the second story did," the man explained.

Still, such conversations were too serious for such a young age. But it doesn't matter, when Elena gets a little older, Marcus will be able to tell her many other stories. He had at least twenty years ahead of him to see how this baby would grow before his eyes, and bloom like a beautiful flower.

"Dad, dad, do you love mom so much? Who do you love more, me or mom?" his daughter unexpectedly asked what caused her father a slight confusion. How could he choose between the two, when both of these people were the only ones who filled his life with at least some meaning?

Marcus squeezed the baby in his arms and got up with her from his knees. Elena grabbed her father by the neck with her little arms and pressed against him, the man loved especially this gesture so much.

"Listen, Elena. You are my heart, which beats only to know that you are alive and well. And it will not stop beating until I am sure that nothing threatens you in this world," the man stroked his daughter through her silky hair, and tenderly kissed her small forehead.

"And your mom... Your mom is my soul. Therefore, if suddenly your mother is gone, my soul will disappear after her in the same moment..." Suddenly, sadness swept over Marcus. This morning did not turn out the way he imagined. Everything seemed to be fine, but something in the depths of the subconscious pressed on the man.

"Wow, it turns out that mom and I also live inside you?!" exclaimed Elena with genuine joy. "Nice! I also have friends who live with me!"

Marcus laughed, what was in this child's head, he did not always understand. Every day, the girl's fantasy added some new details. So over the past two weeks, while the man was away, Elena managed to make some friends.

"And what are the names of your friends, my princess?" asked the man, showing genuine interest. He expected to hear the names of characters from some cartoons or books, but his assumptions were not close to reality.

"This is where the fairy lives!" Elena poked her finger in her heart, "I told you about her today. Her name is Da-... Da-... Hmm, well, I call her a fairy!" the girl gave up trying to remember the name of her fairy, poked her head with a small finger, "And here Zed lives!"

"Zed?"

"Yeah, I call him that, I made this name up myself," Elena beamed and switched to a whisper, "The fairy says that he is sleeping, so he doesn't talk to me. But I heard when the fairy said his name to mom."

Marcus looked at the child with little worry. What the hell is this fairy? There was no fairy when he went on a business trip. And Elena's speech in two weeks became too good for her age. Why did he notice it just now?

"And what is his name?" the man's throat was suddenly dry.

The girl leaned over to her father's ear, covered her mouth with her palm, preparing to tell an important secret, "King Ziusudra. He asked me to tell you that it wouldn't be long to wait."

Marcus's face turned pale, "W-what did you say?" he turned to the girl, but Elena glowed with childlike serenity. For a moment, the man thought that the child's eyes flashed blue, but the moment was so fast that he doubted his vision.

What's happening?

"Um, baby, can you tell your dad what cartoons your fairy showed you? Can I meet her?"

The girl laughed. Silly dad. Cartoons are not to be told, they are to be watched! Elena put her little hands on the man's temples.

"This is a cartoon about you!"

Marcus felt as if his body was thrown into the air, and then hit the ground with force. The head was about to explode in the truest sense of the word. Images, pictures, events - every last detail. He even saw scratches on old tables, dirty stains on glass windows, gloomy winter skies, and every stone of the cold gray castle where his life ended. Wewelsburg.

He could read other people's memories, but they were never so detailed. He didn't need these details, only general moments of memory.

But now he could pause and discern any, even the tiniest detail, in any memory picture. As if it was not a memory, but a real cast of life. And he was not an observer, but a god who created all this himself, and therefore remembers even a tiny atom of this space.

This information was too much for his brain.

But that wasn't what struck Marcus. Elena said that it was a cartoon about him, but he was only a character there - one of many. This was not his life, but hers.

The past life of a girl who died after a cruel experiment. On a cold night on a field covered with white snow.

He saw her gaze, he heard her last words.

He was the one who offered her candidacy. He was the one who set her up to protect others. It was an excuse.

But the essence remained the same.

He was the one who killed her then.