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The sunlight filters softly through the lace curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The scent of freshly baked bread fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of fresh-cut flowers from the garden outside. In the Ivanov family home, mornings like this are rare but cherished—calm, warm, filled with laughter and the feeling of togetherness.

Nina Ivanova sits cross-legged on the floor of the living room, her auburn hair catching the light like copper threads woven into the sunlight. Her dark green eyes sparkle with excitement as she concentrates on her sketchbook, pencil flying over the page as she outlines the cabin she plans to draw during the family trip.

From the kitchen, her mother, Elena Ivanova, hums softly, the melody blending with the sound of pancakes sizzling on the griddle. “Don’t forget your pencils, Nina!” Elena calls with a teasing tone, her black hair neatly pinned into a bun as she flips another pancake. “You’ll want to draw the mountains!”

Nina flashes a grin and adds another detail to her sketch. “I won’t forget. But you’re the one who said we’d only be there for three days. Do I really need to take all of them?”

Her father, Sergei Ivanov, chuckles from behind his newspaper, his deep blue eyes twinkling. “Your mother’s just worried you’ll miss some masterpiece, malyshka. Take the whole set, just in case.”

Nina wrinkles her nose at the nickname. “Papa, I’m eleven now. I’m not a baby anymore.”

Sergei’s laugh is warm and easy, his face breaking into a smile as he folds the newspaper. “You’ll always be my malyshka, Nina,” he says softly, his voice filled with affection.

Nina giggles and tosses her sketchbook onto the couch, brushing a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “Fine. But only because I’m going to draw everything better than Mama ever could!”

Elena steps into the living room, balancing a plate of golden pancakes in one hand. She gives Nina a playful, challenging look, her eyebrows raised. “Oh? You think you can outdo me, the Great Elena Ivanova? We’ll see, Nina. We’ll see.”

Nina laughs again, the sound bright and carefree, as her younger brother, Misha, bursts into the room. His auburn hair is sticking up at odd angles, and his energy fills the room. “Is it time yet? Are we leaving?”

Sergei reaches out to pull Misha into his lap, giving him a tickling squeeze. “Not yet, little bear. We still need to pack all the food and supplies for the trip. How about we help Mama with the pancakes while we wait?”

Misha groans dramatically, but the moment Elena offers him a pancake with a dollop of syrup, his face lights up. “I’m definitely helping now!”

The morning slips away as the family shares breakfast, laughing and teasing each other. It’s the kind of morning that feels like it could last forever—warm, comfortable, and full of love.

“We’re going to Lake Baikal,” Nina mutters to herself as she flips through her sketchbook, imagining the sparkling blue water and towering pine trees. “It’s going to be perfect.”

Her mother glances over at her. “What’s that, Nina?”

“Oh, nothing,” Nina replies quickly, her eyes dancing. “Just thinking about how amazing the trip will be.”

Her father grins, pulling his coat on. “It will be, malyshka. I’m looking forward to seeing you draw the mountains—if they’re as beautiful as you say, we might just have to live there forever!”

As the morning fades into afternoon, the Ivanovs gather their bags, toss them into the old sedan, and begin the long drive. The car is packed with snacks, travel pillows, and Misha’s favorite toys. The sounds of Misha’s excited singing fill the backseat while Sergei hums along to a tune. Elena smiles softly, her hand resting gently on Sergei’s arm as he drives, the gentle rumble of the car and the rhythm of the road becoming a comforting lull.

Nina presses her forehead against the cool glass of the window, her eyes wide as the landscape whips past—fields of sunflowers stretching to the horizon, forests so thick with trees they look like walls of green. “It’s going to be perfect,” she whispers under her breath, the words a promise she doesn’t know she’s making.

The sound of Misha’s laughter from the backseat is like music. Sergei’s deep voice cracks a joke about their destination, and Elena’s soft, melodic laughter follows. Nina lets herself get lost in the peace of the moment, the warmth of her family, the happiness that surrounds her.

For once, she allows herself to believe that everything will always be this way. That no matter what happens, this love, this warmth, will never go away.

But the road ahead has already begun to change.

The sky shifts as the sun dips lower, casting an orange glow over the landscape. The Ivanov family doesn’t notice the dark clouds gathering on the horizon, or the soft rumble of thunder that echoes in the distance.

Nina shifts in her seat, still looking out the window, unaware of the tragedy that’s moments away.

Without warning, a sharp screech of tires splits the air. The car swerves, and Nina’s breath catches in her throat as everything around her seems to stop. Time stretches, and her heart races in a wild, uncontrollable beat. The car flips, spinning in a dizzying blur. The world spins, a mixture of shouts, screams, and deafening noise.

Then—silence.

The peaceful, perfect day shatters.