Oraz-Gul was being released. She asked to go with her, as she was illiterate. Handing her the certificate of release the chekist said,
«Well, now you know that you should not hide criminals.»
Goodness, what become with her! Casting up the head with sparkling eyes she lent forward clenching her fists.
«They tried me. My son died in prison! I spent my youth in jail! Ten years! And for ten years I worked honestly. Worked well! Worked everything as I should. But if I had sold my husband, the father of my child, son of the man in whose house I lived and the woman whose bread I ate… Oh! Then I should have been killed like a d-d-dog! Sharia! Sh-h-haria!»
The chekist nearly fell off the stool, I grabbed Gul-Oraz' hand and hurriedly led her away to the guard post.
What a blast! But before she looked embarrassed, muttered something barely audible casting down…