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Elsa is thirty-five. Five of those years she has been the chief lawyer of a large oil holding. The rest of her adult life Elsa spent trying to get this job. The pinnacle of her career. The next step is the board of directors and, possibly, moving to work in London, if, of course, the holding takes over several international companies. Her career has been fast and bright. Only there are no children. Children are not happening, although Elsa has approached this matter with flying colors: the best perinatal center, the best doctor, sex by the hour. But no children. The problems began when Elsa was fired. Crisis, intrigue, a failed takeover - in short, they fired her, looking her in the eye. And her husband also said some nasty things... Elsa had already drawn a bath and prepared a razor... But then there was a knock at the door. They brought her a telegram. "Uncle Vitya died, period, funeral is Thursday, period, we are waiting." And Elsa leaves “into the unknown”... to a godforsaken provincial town.