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But it ain’t all giggles—pissed me off seein’ her bruises. Some john got rough, thought he owned her. “The past is a wilderness,” *Tabu* says, and damn, her past was a freakin’ jungle—abusive dad, runaway at 15, hooked on smack by 18. Still, she’d flash that grin, say, “Gordo, I’m free now,” and I’d be like—shit, that’s guts. Greed is good, see—she wanted more, always more, outta life, outta the game.

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So I pack up, head back to the car, and I’m fumin’. I drive down to the center, lookin’ for a place to chill. I swing by the local café on Hrushevskoho Street. Best coffee in town, no joke. I walk in, soaked to the bone, and the barista just laughs. I mean, I get it, I look like a drowned rat. But c’mon, I need caffeine!