Dar’ya stepped out of the prison gates in early spring. Snow still lay around, but the bright sun bathed everything in a golden glow, and the world appeared to her as a rainbow full of hope. She set her bag on the ground and took a deep breath of fresh air. Freedom spun in her mind like a gulp of water for someone dying of thirst. Nine years of her life had been behind bars—nine long years of tears, despair, and hatred for a world that, in her eyes, had betrayed her.
Dar’ya had been convicted of murdering her husband Alexander—a crime she essentially did not commit. But who would care to scrutinize the details? It was much easier to pin the blame on the wife—the main suspect. The pain of losing her beloved mixed with the terror of inevitable punishment and the expectation of the worst. Her intuition proved right: the court found Kolotova guilty. Thus, the 24-year-old girl received a harsh sentence.
Throughout those years, she wrote appeals and petitions to every possible authority, hoping for a pardon, yet the sentence remained unchanged. It seemed that everyone had turned a blind eye to her case. She found herself among repeat offenders, as her sentence was under a serious charge. The early days in the colony were unbearably hard. Sleeping was especially terrifying. She witnessed brutal inmates killing cellmates without reason, just for entertainment—staging “dark” nights or attacking with sharpened objects in the toilet. Some were beaten, others maimed, deprived of sight or health.
Horrific tales circulated throughout the colony, and Dasha trembled with fear every night, dreading that she might not live to see the morning. But fortune smiled upon her: she befriended Tamara, an experienced thief who knew all the prison rules. The woman taught Dar’ya how to survive: whom to bribe, where to smile, when to remain silent, how to interact with long-term prisoners, and who was truly in charge. Dasha absorbed everything like a sponge. It was precisely this knowledge that helped her stay alive.
When she was released, she was sure that no one would be there to welcome her. Yet, to her surprise, an old friend, Diana, was waiting at the gate in her old Zhiguli. This came as a real shock to Dar’ya. Tears welled up in her eyes. She picked up her bag and slowly approached the car. So many years had passed, but Diana seemed utterly unchanged. It was the prison that had changed Dasha, while outside, time flowed differently.
On the way, Diana recounted the latest news, carefully avoiding any topics related to imprisonment. Why stir up the past when a single memory can choke you? Dasha wanted to forget everything that had happened over those nine years. She gazed out the window, wiping away her tears, and her thoughts drifted to the past.
Images of memories played before her eyes like scenes from an old movie. There was the orphanage where she grew up, never knowing her parents. She had lived entirely on state support and was terrified of being released, for she could not imagine how to start an independent life. But time marched on, and she eventually had to leave the orphanage. After gaining her freedom, she encountered many difficulties, yet she still enrolled in the university’s Faculty of Economics.
Dar’ya excelled in the orphanage, and her teachers had high hopes for her. After earning her diploma, she landed a job at a mid-sized company. It was there that she met Alexander, and a relationship blossomed. Six months later, they married. At first, their life seemed perfect. Dasha even felt a twinge of self-envy: a wonderful husband, prosperity, no household problems. It appeared that life could not get any better.
However, a year and a half after the wedding, reality set in. Their relationship began to sour. Part of the blame was that Dar’ya could not conceive, and her mother-in-law, considering the marriage a mistake on her son’s part, constantly reproached her daughter-in-law, calling her a “hollow vessel.” She did everything in her power to stoke the flames of hatred between the couple, aiming solely at divorce. Dasha and Sasha often quarreled, yet they continued living together, bought a house in the suburbs, and started renovations.
Then something terrible happened. Alexander suddenly vanished. All the evidence pointed to his murder, and, according to the investigation, Dar’ya was to blame. In her closet, they found a bloodstained shirt and rags which, allegedly, she had used to wipe the knife. Alexander’s body was never found, yet Dar’ya was sentenced to nine years. She maintained until the end that she had been framed, but her pleas went unheeded. The investigation was too hasty, and before she could even recover, she was informed that the case had been closed and handed over to the court. Moreover, the investigation was conducted with extreme negligence. Had it not been for bribes to the right people and her mother-in-law’s connections in court, perhaps Dar’ya would not have received such a sentence.
Dar’ya wept bitterly, realizing that for the next nine years she would only see the sky through bars. What tormented her most was that no one even attempted to find out where Alexander had disappeared to. She was simply accused of murder, and there was nothing she could do. There was no one to defend her.
Later, Dar’ya realized that her husband’s disappearance might have been connected to the purchase of the house, although at first she did not link the two events.
The friends rode in silence, occasionally exchanging glances in the rearview mirror. Suddenly, Diana spoke:
— You know, something strange happened to me recently. Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I thought I saw your late husband. He looked even better than before. As always, impeccably dressed, accompanied by a stunning woman in an expensive fur coat and high heels. What a couple—it was simply breathtaking!
Dar’ya stared at her friend, mouth agape, thinking she must be joking. Upon arriving in the city, Diana offered her a place to stay for a while. Dasha agreed, understanding that she had no other choice. A week later, she decided to go to the house that she and Alexander had bought shortly before his disappearance to retrieve her belongings.
Approaching the gate, she cautiously peered into the yard and saw Alexander’s familiar Mercedes sparkling in the sun. A doubt crept into her mind. At that moment, the door of the house opened, and there, on the threshold, appeared Alexander in person. Seeing his ex-wife, he turned pale, began to gesture wildly, and demanded that she leave immediately. He writhed like an eel on a frying pan, talking incessantly in an effort to confuse her. He claimed that his mother was to blame for everything—that she had orchestrated this monstrous scam.
In reality, his mother-in-law, Valentina Nikolaevna, had long eyed her son’s prospective bride from a completely different league. Unlike the orphan Dar’ya, this girl had grown up in a wealthy family and was the heiress to a considerable fortune. She seemed like the ideal match for Alexander—educated, refined, and, most importantly, well-off. In his mother’s eyes, Alexander was meant to marry only such a woman, to “preserve the family’s status.” The only obstacle to this brilliant future was Dar’ya.
It was then that a devious plan took shape among the conspirators: to stage Alexander’s death in order to get rid of the inconvenient wife and avoid a division of property through divorce. The plan was simple but effective. Valentina Nikolaevna’s connections and money did their work: she secured the loyalty of judges, the police, and even the prison administration. Thanks to bribes, Dar’ya was sent to a cell with the most brutal criminals, where her chances of survival were minimal. Alexander’s mother also ensured that her letters and petitions never reached the proper authorities. Thus, Dar’ya spent all nine years behind bars, from one phone call to the next.
During that time, Alexander managed to marry his new chosen one, Melanya, with whom he had two children. But the family hearth soon went cold. Without any scruples, Alexander shifted the care of the children onto his wife. In truth, as with most men of his circle, children were valued only for status and bragging rights among friends—a continuation of the family line.
When Dar’ya heard the truth from her ex-husband, a blind rage seized her. She wanted to immediately do what she had already been convicted for—kill him. She could barely contain herself; her hands clenched into fists, and her face flushed as if painted with bright rouge. Why not? After all, she had already served time for that crime!
She shoved Alexander against his chest, and he staggered, clearly not expecting such a reaction. Panic instantly overtook him. He tried to change the subject, but it was already too late. Dasha could not stop herself. Nine years of humiliation, fear, and pain burst forth. Tears streamed from her eyes. She recalled every moment spent behind bars, every night filled with terror, every morning when she woke up thinking, “It’s all because of them!” She wept, struck Alexander on the face and head, swinging repeatedly—not too hard, but with enough force to be felt.
Dar’ya felt a deep emptiness. Her life, even outside the prison walls, would now forever be marked by the stigma of a murderer. People would point fingers at her, gossip behind her back. And all of this—not because of her own doing, but because of someone else’s. And these people were now looking her in the eyes, not understanding the full extent of their betrayal.
The separation from her ex-husband was extremely tense. Dar’ya promised that she would go to the police and expose all their crimes. Fortunately, at that moment, Melanya—Alexander’s second wife—stepped out of the house, having accidentally overheard part of the conversation. Her reaction was striking: her mouth fell slightly open in astonishment, and she stood frozen in shock, unable to utter a word.
Dar’ya kept her promise. Despite her ex-husband’s pleas and tears, she contacted the police. A dictaphone—thoughtfully slipped into her pocket by Diana before the meeting—proved invaluable. “With people like these, you have to use their own methods,” Diana had said. And she was right. The recording became the main piece of evidence in court.
Unfortunately, Valentina Nikolaevna got off relatively lightly—with a hefty fine and a suspended sentence. However, her son received five years in prison along with subsequent compensation for Dar’ya’s moral damages. Of course, for a woman who had spent nine years behind bars on a false charge, it was a meager consolation. But now Alexander himself would experience all the “delights” of prison life.
Finally, Dar’ya was able to start a new life. By selling her share of the house, she gathered enough money to move to another city where no one knew her. The charges against her were dropped, and she easily found work as a consultant in a clothing store. The staff greeted her warmly, the salary was decent, and her workdays were pleasant.
Dar’ya acquired a small one-room apartment, furnished it to her taste, and began to enjoy life. One day, she took in a stray puppy, which became her loyal companion and a source of joy. During a walk in the park with her dog, Dar’ya encountered a stranger walking a German Shepherd. The dogs began barking at each other, and their owners tried to break them up. When the man looked up at Dar’ya, he seemed to have forgotten his own name.
He offered to take a walk with her and treated her to an ice cream. To her surprise, Dar’ya agreed. After a pleasant time together, she gave him her phone number, and they arranged to meet again—this time without the dogs.
When her friend Diana later called to ask how she was doing, Dar’ya unexpectedly announced that she had been invited to a wedding. Diana almost dropped the phone in astonishment. It seemed that fate had decided to reward Dar’ya for all her suffering. Having moved to a new city, she had indeed found love.