Roman Marinescu personally came down to the tunnel a few hours later.
The passage was narrow and wet, leading to a huge network of underground galleries.
It wasn’t an ordinary natural fish.
Someone had lived there.
A long time.
There were improvised rooms.
Beds made of wood.
Tanks of water.
Preserved expired for decades.
And drawings on the walls.
Hundreds of drawings.
Made by the children.
Houses.
Sunshine.
The Forest.
And always the same dark figure.
A man without a face.
Roman felt his skin cool.
Lia was sitting in a wheelchair at the entrance when he walked out.
Who kept you there?
The woman closed her eyes.
In the beginning there was only one.
– Who?
Her lips began to shiver.
— The sports teacher.
Roman remained motionless.
The teacher had disappeared with the students in 1989.
He was considered a victim.
Lia continues in poor voice:
