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The outskirts of Tel Aviv. A checkpoint with a barrier and armed guards. Here, on the grounds of the Tel HaShomer hospital, is a children's orthopedic rehabilitation center. For nearly three months now, doctors and staff at this medical facility have been trying to return to normal life the children who were injured in the June terrorist attack near the Dolphinarium disco on the Tel Aviv promenade.

On the night of June 1–2, a suicide bomber detonated a bomb filled with metal pellets at the entrance to the disco. That evening, 21 people were killed and more than 100 were injured. The Dolphinarium was popular among immigrants from the former Soviet Union, so almost all of the victims were, until recently, our compatriots. In addition, on that fatal evening, entry for girls was free, which is why the majority of the victims were young women.

The corridors of the rehabilitation center are quiet. A few visitors and patients sit on sofas — those who are able to move independently or in wheelchairs. Noticing our hesitation, a nurse approaches and asks about the purpose of our visit. After receiving an explanation, she leads us into one of the rooms.

Here lies 15-year-old Sonya. Along with her, we are greeted by her mother, and as we introduce ourselves and explain our purpose, her father joins us. It turns out we arrived at the right moment: today Sonya is being discharged and taken home. Despite the preparations, the family finds time to speak with us.

On that ill-fated evening, Sonya did not want to go to the disco. She herself remembers little, but her mother says Sonya wasn't feeling well and was in a low mood. Still, her friends persuaded her to go out. She recalls the details of that evening with difficulty. She arrived at the disco close to midnight, met her friends, and they stood together in line. At the moment of the explosion, Sonya and her group were at the very center of the crowd — just a few meters from the bomber.

"I remember almost nothing. I only heard the explosion and felt myself falling," Sonya says. "It seemed to me that everything was happening very, very slowly. I saw other people falling, and among them my acquaintance Ilya. He died that evening. Then everything went dark, as if I fell somewhere. The next thing I remember is another acquaintance lifting me and carrying me away. Then there were voices — people asking how I felt, what hurt. But nothing hurt. The doctors later said I was in shock. The friend who first helped me said that I was lying on top of other people, and people were lying on top of me. After that, I remember nothing until I regained consciousness in the ambulance. Then there was the hospital. I was in the same room as my friend Zhenya — we had come to the disco together. Zhenya died on June 19. That day was my birthday…"

The terrorist clearly did not choose the time and place by chance. First, in Israel, weekends begin on Friday, and more young people gather in public places, while the Dolphinarium was one of the most popular discos. Second, its status as a "Russian disco" attracted attention — Palestinians believed that immigrants from the former Soviet Union needed to be intimidated so they would stop coming to Israel.

However, according to young immigrants from Russia, the effect was the opposite. Before the June attack, many of them were relatively neutral toward the Arab–Israeli conflict. Today, most of them intend to serve in the army, and if possible, in combat units. A former Russian immigrant named Kirill, whose friend died at the Dolphinarium, said:

"Until recently, I wasn't sure whether I should hate Palestinians. Now I have no doubts. If there is anyone I hate more than anyone else in my life, it is Arab terrorists — and, in general, all Palestinians. If I have the chance to take part in combat, I will do everything I can to kill as many Arabs as possible…"

In a neighboring room, 17-year-old Rita is undergoing rehabilitation. She remembers that day clearly: she had passed another exam at her lyceum and decided to celebrate with friends. She came to the Dolphinarium but, fortunately, was not as close to the epicenter of the explosion. However, her best friend Simona died — not from shrapnel, but, as doctors determined, from a heart attack.

Rita does not speak much about her pain. According to her, her life is not in danger, and she will continue to live fully — but the pain will remain in her heart. What she cannot understand, and never will, is why so much of the world supports the Palestinians:

“It seems to me that these well-fed Americans, and others like them, simply have no idea what Palestinian terrorism is. They were not here, at the site of the explosion. It is impossible to describe: mutilated bodies, severed arms and legs, and blood — so much blood. Blood everywhere: on the asphalt, on the walls, on the clothes of those who survived… Do people around the world think only about Palestinian children who die in the intifada? They do not consider that Israeli soldiers shoot not for fun, but to preserve their own lives. And I cannot understand the Palestinians: why do they kill unarmed children? We are not soldiers, we are not on their territory — we just came to a disco. Is it all for the sake of reaching paradise with seventy-two virgins?”

In Rita’s room there is a stack of newspapers with articles about the June attack. Half of them have pro-Palestinian headlines. In one of these articles, there is a photograph of the suicide bomber and his father. Beneath it — the father’s statement:

“I wish I had twenty sons, and that they would all die the same way…”