"Tomorrow morning…" muttered Nowicki.
"Yeah ... Dominik had received letters before, but it wasn't anything serious. Tomorrow I will deliver them all to Adamski, but I don't think anything will come of it. It was just bad poetry and absurd love confessions. Only this package to Dominik's house was something else. Have there been any more?"
"No. Nothing. All the time since Dominik started treatment, nothing suspicious has appeared."
"Has he taken treatment?"
Nowicki lowered his head even lower.
"When you tried to ra*e him," he drawled, letting his fury emerge, "his back was so bruised that he could hardly move. Still, he forgave you because he loved you. But then ... I found him a few days after the party with the French. He was broken, half conscious, exhausted, as if he couldn't find the motivation to even breathe. From then on, every day was a struggle for him. That's why I hate you so much.
"And ... treatment ..."
