“I found him. He’s dead. Now I’m a serial killer too,” Maria whimpered and shook her head with an oddly smooth movement. She began weeping again.

“Stomach hurts so much. Hair falling out,” she sighed, feeling the left side of her temple. Her hand came away with a clump of short hair. She passed it to Andrei.

“Snap out of it. Who’s dead? Your disgusting job has driven you completely nuts!” he said, shaking her by the shoulders. “Do you know my name?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Where am I?”

The tape would not yield. It was wound in dense, entangled layers. Andrei lifted Maria from the bench and led her to the lamp, glancing at the CCTV camera suspended above. Piece by piece, he disentangled the sticky plastic from her cold skin and threw it to the ground. Maria stopped struggling. She bent over and used her free hand to collect the sticky lumps and put them in her coat pocket. Andrei cut away almost everything from the fingers and wrists. He put away the knife, rubbed her hand, and wiped away blood. Another passer-by appeared. A man wearing headphones and carrying a briefcase. She leaned forward, looking into his face and offered him an inane, coquettish smile. She held out her hand to him. He started backwards and strode ahead. She followed him with her gaze as she stroked the air with her hand. A cat skittered behind the fence.

She shrieked softly: “Ooh, kitties! Let’s go, there are kitties.” She headed to the gate.

“Don’t,” Andrei said, pulling her back. “You don’t even like cats. We’ve got to go home. Can we go please? Then we’ll pick up Tykhon. He’s your little kitten. Let’s go home. Are you listening?”

He wanted to grab her and force her into the car, but he was afraid she would have another episode. He looked back. The driver was watching them closely, phone in hand.

Maria underwent another transformation. She bared her teeth and cackled. First it seemed like his hunch might have been correct. This might all have been a put-on. Of course, she was just messing around. She laughed frenziedly and looked him straight in the eyes with a mocking air. The mockery he could take, it wasn’t frightening. But then her laughter turned abnormal, hysterical, and relentless. She doubled over, laughing still, and sat on the ground. And suddenly fell silent.

“I want to drink. My stomach hurts.”

“I don’t have any water. Let’s just go home, we’ve got water there.”

Andrei’s coolness dissolved entirely. He had no idea what to do. He went back to the driver.

“Do you have any water?”

“How much longer are you going to be here?”

The driver was growing testy. Andrei took the knife from his pocket and returned it. He pulled out a two hundred-hryvnia note and paid him.

“She’s unwell. Do you have any water?”