Heart beating fast, hands sweating and fastened breath. I feel as if I'm going to face a particularly awful Strigoi, not a man that kept me same during long months of insanity.

There is a mirror on the wall on my right side and when I look up to see myself, it takes me a couple of seconds to recognise my own face. I tried so hard to look good, but failed miserably. What a terrible irony of life; for all this time, for so many years, I wanted to be skinny, to look like a Moroi, like Jill, with endless legs and a narrow waist. Now, I am skinny; skinnier than I've ever thought I'd be.

And I look like a corpse.

Skin and bones and nothing more. Sharp angles, protruding knees and elbows, no hips, no breasts. Short hair- Rose had to cut it down- dull and lifeless, dark shadows under my eyes, which are too big now for my face. ''Eyes like a molten gold'', his words echoing in my mind, awe in his voice. My eyes aren't gold anymore.

There is an awful silence in the room, only watch is making a rhythmic tick-tack. I look at my skinny hands, fingers like gnarled branches, consumed by this sudden and overwhelming fear, that, when he'll finally see me, I'll see disgust in his eyes. What's left from Sage, he felt in love with? Her sass and intelligence, her brightness, her bravery; where are them? I know exactly where I left them. On the cold floor, far, far away.

After I was taken from reeducation by my friends, I was in such a bad condition that I was being kept in coma, for my body to heal. Rose said that Adrian was with me then, but I don't remember it. Just a scent of his skin, so familiar, like a reminder that life used to be good. Then I was transported to Russia and, with the help of Zmey, located in a small village in the end of the world. It was too dangerous for any of my friends to stay with my for too long; Rose and Dimitri made sure I'm okay and they headed back to Court, telling me that Adrian will join me soon. Till now, an old Russian woman has been taking care of me; feeding me with some kind of a pink soup and giving me a lot of medicines. She is very nice, though she doesn't understand a single word in English.

Suddenly, I hear a metal cling of the door and there she is, with a wrinkled smile on her face.

And she is followed by Adrian.

I lose my ability to breath. He stands there, like a ghost from another time, another life; handsome and familiar, so painfully familiar. My whole body starts to aches, as I recall all of these precious memories; his lips on my cheek, his hands on my hips, his smile, all of his words. My Adrian, my home.

And then I look into his eyes and I see all of these terrible months; these sleepless nights, this fear, this despair, this hope and love; always love; never-ending, endless love. I find myself in these eyes.

I'm sitting there, frozen, tears running down my cheeks, as he kneels down in front of me, and buries his face in the material of my dress and cries. I will never be old Sydney. I will never be whole again. Reeducation is tattooed on my body and soul and I'll never manage to get rid of it or forget it. I have my wounds. Wounds deep down inside me, which nobody will see, but which will ache for forever. I have my days of despair, me darkest hours. But I collapsed, I burned myself like a dying star, and still, I'm not dead. Even more; I've never felt so alive than now, as I'm sitting here, with a man who saved me in every single meaning of this word. When he looks up and his eyes meets mine, I know he sees nothing but a molten gold. And in that moment of infinity, I believe that one day, my wounds will became nothing more, but scars. I have a remedy for them, don't I?

I'm home.