Pavel carefully surveyed the area – the paths she had walked, the hidden gorges, the rocky scree. Everything seemed both familiar and changed by time and heat.
The diary revealed new details:
At night I hear footsteps, but no one is visible… the fog hides the paths… I move forward…
A shiver ran down his spine. Apparently Sofia had encountered something unusual. He began to write everything down, noting coordinates, hoping every detail would help him.
Soon he noticed an almost imperceptible trail – a trampled grass, as if someone had made a path. His heart pounded. The trail led up a slope where Sofia liked to photograph sunrises.
The fog was thickening. Every sound – the rustle of a branch, the cry of a bird, even his breathing – sounded too loud.
Suddenly he came across a small clearing. There lay another object – Sofia’s faded and torn sweater. He picked it up, feeling a strange mixture of relief and fear. She had been here…
Pavel realized that the path would be long and dangerous. The mountain hid more than he could imagine. But a new strength had emerged within him - he had to find it to end seven years of obscurity.
The fog thickened with every minute. He walked along a narrow path, stones slipping under his feet, branches catching on his clothes. Every step was crucial.
The tracks led him to a narrow gorge, which the locals had warned about. People were lost there without a trace. But Pavel didn't listen. Determination burned within him.
In the middle of the gorge he heard a sound – a faint cry, like a call from the depths of the forest. He froze. The sound repeated itself.
He continued carefully.
