We drink tea in her own kitchen. Julia is sitting in a wheelchair, childishly chatting his legs. We say that you still need to buy furniture. What, perhaps, is Julia the guardian - otherwise the apartment is scary. And she talks about the boarding school - with a cunning, triumphant smile: she is safe, won, escaped. “No, I will never forget how it was, no! I always fought with them. Told them the truth, and they offended us. I told them: you will also ever find you in our place!