She had small braids, fixed with hairpins. That much Sergei Shapovalov can remember. She was three years old, white as a ghost and smeared with blood.
Her parents were dead, two other children from her street too. It was 10.40pm on a cold Ukrainian night, and Shapovalov cradled her as he carried her to hospital. She was badly hurt, but she survived.Subscribe from just €1 for the first month!
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