A couple of years went by. The child was growing up. Lars saw how reverently Inessa treated the baby and began to soak up her warmth and affection for this tiny creature. Unfortunately, the disease did not share their feelings. The disease had its own plans for the child's mother. Inessa was getting worse and worse with each passing month, until it came to the point that she had to be hospitalised again, as home treatment with medication alone was no longer sufficient. Constant medical supervision was required. Lars had to quit his job completely, hire a couple of other people, and become a housewife, torn between hospital and home. Only a couple of times a week, he stopped by the restaurant to check on his condition. As a result, the quality of service deteriorated and the flow of customers decreased, followed by a significant reduction in the income of the establishment.
For the last few days, Inessa had been almost completely immobilised from the illness and the large amount of chemical drugs. She had become so skinny that the outlines of bones and veins were visible through the stretched skin. Her head resembled the skull of a living dead person who had not yet had time to decompose, with deep pits and hollows. Her uncombed hair had already begun to peel away from her head, and whole strands of it were sliding down her pillow, falling to the floor. In place of the torn hair, her head was a patch of dark maroon-coloured, inflamed patches, some of them even showing pus. Her hands trembled frequently, the nails on them beginning to flake and fall off. It was not a sight for the faint of heart. And Lars, every time he saw his wife, doomed to death, so helpless and defenceless, could not hold back his tears. They poured from his eyes every time he sat down next to her hospital bed.
Every day, he came to the room with the baby and fruit. When Lars came inside, he lit a scented candle, put it on the bedside table, and put her favourite sweets in a saucer. She was tied to the bunk and there was no way she could eat them. It was part of some inalienable personal ritual for the man, carried out for the health of his wife. He knew how dear Theodore was to Inessa and how she felt about him, so Lars had hoped to the last moment to awaken in her new strength to fight the incurable disease by bringing a child with him. However, these attempts, as well as many others, proved futile. In May 743, Inessa died of the Hyena disease, making Lars a single father. Although, in fact, he had been such a long time ago, and now, it was only officially registered in the city registry.