All Amazing Babies

This narrative resonates with each of us, as it explores aspirations and setbacks, difficulties and the collapse of dreams. More importantly, it shows how ordinary people navigate life’s challenges, where they find resilience, and what prevents them from surrendering.

Pasha’s early years were spent in the shadows of neglect, his mother having lost custody due to her negligence. Reluctant to discuss his past, he couldn’t forget the gnawing hunger that marked his childhood—his parents and their intoxicated friends consumed all, leaving him scraps at best. His moments of relief came only when the adults lay senseless, allowing him to scavenge for crumbs and dip stale bread into leftover oil, despite the pain it brought his stomach.

He had no idea that other children enjoyed outings with parents or treats from doting grandparents; his universe was confined to the walls of his home, populated by figures blurred by alcohol. His world shifted the day his father succumbed to tainted vodka, his mother’s anguish piercing the air. The arrival of social workers marked a turning point—taken from his mother despite her protests and his own tears. The transition was traumatic, yet it led him to the sanctuary of an orphanage.

At the orphanage, Pasha found a haven where meals were warm, beds were his own, and although the caretakers often hid their tears, they understood his need to hoard food beneath his pillow, allowing him time to adjust to this new, kinder reality. It was here that he discovered his passion for reading, devouring every book available and demonstrating a rare aptitude for learning, described by the staff as having «talent.»

It was also here that Pasha met Tanya. What began as friendship blossomed into a profound love, rooted in their shared experiences of orphanhood, which deepened their bond. Together, they navigated adulthood, Pasha excelling in university through a scholarship and working nights to support their life with Tanya.

Upon graduation, unable to find work in his field, Pasha and Tanya ventured to Moscow, buoyed by dreams of success and wealth that would one day allow them to give back to the orphanage that had been their refuge. The journey was filled with hopeful whispers, but Moscow’s cold reception—its rain and stoic faces—was daunting. Nonetheless, holding Tanya’s hand, Pasha stepped forward with resolve.

In Moscow, the reality of his credentials—impressive but not unique in the competitive capital—hit hard. Despite his education and skills, Pasha faced rejection after rejection, his hopes of easy success dashed. Yet, the story of Pasha and Tanya is one of enduring hope, a testament to the strength found in shared struggles and the unwavering pursuit of a better future.
Day after day, Pasha ventured out in search of opportunities, only to return each evening feeling more disheartened than before. Tanya was always there to meet him, her words a soothing balm.

«Pash, don’t lose hope,» she’d reassure him, gently ruffling his hair.

«Tanyush,» Pasha would murmur, his spirits low, «why must everything be so hard? Haven’t we faced enough?»

«Pash,» Tanya would reply, her voice calm, «keep your chin up. I’m here, we’re managing, and soon you’ll find a place where your talents can shine. Remember, you’re brilliant and have a top-notch education!»

One particularly tough day, in a last-ditch effort, Pasha tried his luck at a construction site. However, his slight build led to quick rejection.

«We can’t use someone like you here!» the foreman snapped, harshly shutting the door in his face.

Dejected, Pasha trudged back through the city streets. That’s when he spotted a sign that read «Janitor needed» on a sleek business center’s door. It felt like a defeat, but unable to bear the burden falling solely on Tanya, he entered, his resolve firm.

«Hello,» Pasha greeted softly at the reception. «I saw the sign for a cleaner—»

A graceful woman with long hair and a warm demeanor looked up. «Good afternoon,» she responded kindly. «Please, take a seat. I’ll let the manager know you’re here. Would you like some coffee?»

Her polite offer was a small kindness that touched Pasha deeply. «No, thank you,» he replied, «I’m here about the job.»

As she called her boss, Pasha’s eyes wandered across the lavish lobby, where well-dressed individuals moved about, their smiles bright. He longed to be among them, to make Tanya proud.

«Young man,» the woman called, smiling. «Please, follow me to the office. And if you change your mind about the coffee, my name is Katya.»

«And I am Pasha.»

Nervously, Pasha stepped into the office, a spacious room adorned with luxurious decor and panoramic windows. The manager and two others eyed him with open skepticism.

«Ready to start?» the boss asked with a smirk.

«Yes,» Pasha answered, his voice barely a whisper.

«And what skills do you bring?» another man jeered. «Were you trained as a janitor?»

Their laughter stung, but Pasha steadied himself. «I hold a university degree with honors, have a remarkable memory, and possess strong analytical skills,» he declared, his confidence returning.

«Well, remember where we keep the cleaning supplies,» the director quipped, his laughter echoed by his colleagues.

Katya quietly led Pasha away to the supply room, her voice soft. «Don’t mind them, Pasha. The director can be tough, but it’s just a job. Keep your head high.»

«Thank you, Katya,» Pasha replied, looking at the array of brooms and mops, a new resolve forming within him.
Pavel was assigned to cleaning duties on the second floor of the sprawling business center. Decked in his issued uniform, he joined the ranks of numerous other cleaners—curiously, all male. The absence of female cleaners, he speculated, might be to avoid potential legal issues or because the job was deemed too physically demanding.

As Pavel began his work, the facade of congeniality that the office workers presented quickly crumbled. Most were affluent and detached, openly mocking those they deemed beneath them. This daily disrespect wore on Pavel, but quitting wasn’t an option; he refused to let Tanya shoulder their burdens alone.

Despite their tight budget, the couple had rented an apartment that stretched their finances. It lacked modern amenities, but together, they turned it into a cozy retreat. Home was Pavel’s sanctuary, a place to escape the disdain he faced at work and dream of better days.

Each morning, Pavel returned to his cleaning with a heavy heart. His boss, taking a cruel delight in tormenting him, would create messes on purpose.

«Hey, genius! Clean this up,» the boss would sneer, spilling coffee on the floor.

«And don’t miss the spots, Einstein!» he’d shout, flicking cigarette butts onto the carpet.

Amidst this, Katya, a colleague who had shown him kindness from his first day, became his solace. She greeted him each morning with a coffee and a supportive smile, which Pavel deeply appreciated.

Fueled by his qualifications and the unfairness he endured, Pavel submitted a monthly application to transfer to the economics department, though his boss only ever promised to «consider» his requests.

Then, tragedy struck. Tanya was hospitalized after a hit-and-run incident, suffering a serious hip injury. Overwhelmed but undeterred, Pavel secured a loan for her surgery and requested additional cleaning duties at work to cover the costs. Working tirelessly, he found solace in the fulfillment of his responsibilities towards Tanya.

One evening, Pavel accidentally overheard a critical meeting of the board of directors. His boss was reprimanded by the higher-ups, given one month to improve the dire situation. Witnessing this, Pavel sensed an opportunity.

After the meeting, he approached his boss, who was visibly shaken by the scolding.

«What do you want?» the boss snapped irritably.

Pavel, undeterred by his lowly position and the boss’s dismissal, proposed, «I understand the financial structures involved here, and I believe I can contribute solutions.»

Laughed off and dismissed as just a cleaner, Pavel didn’t falter. He spent his nights pouring over financial strategies, convinced that his background and insights could turn the company’s fortunes around. By day, he cleaned; by night, he crafted a detailed plan, believing in the strength of his convictions and the depth of his knowledge.
«You really have a knack for analytics,» Tanya chuckled, her eyes shining with pride. «It’s obviously your true passion.»

«Absolutely,» Pasha grinned, feeling a spark of hope. «I really enjoy it.»

«Do you think your boss will recognize your effort?» Tanya’s brow furrowed with concern.

«I’m not sure,» Pasha’s expression clouded briefly. «But it’s worth a shot.»

Their conversation took a somber turn when Tanya relayed the landlord’s demand for six months’ rent upfront. Pasha felt a momentary pang of despair but quickly masked it with a reassuring smile. «We’ll figure it out, Tanyush. We always do.»

A month had sped by, and the tension at the business center was palpable the day before the board of directors’ meeting. Everyone seemed frantic, especially the director, who was visibly agitated.

«Morning, Katyusha,» Pasha greeted her. «It’s a bit chaotic today, huh?»

«Oh, Pashka, it’s a total mess,» Katya replied, looking around nervously. «Tomorrow’s the big meeting, and everything’s up in the air. The director’s been neglecting his duties, and now it’s catching up to him.»

Pasha chuckled. «Sounds like a disaster. Well, I’ll try presenting my analysis to him; maybe he’ll consider it,» he said, winking at her.

«Your analysis?» Katya looked surprised.

«Yeah, did you think I was only a cleaner?» Pasha laughed.

Katya smiled warmly. «You never cease to amaze, Pashka. Good luck!»

«Thanks, Katyusha! Your kindness means a lot.»

Pasha knocked tentatively on the director’s office door. «May I come in?» he asked through the crack.

«What now?» the director snapped, clearly annoyed. «We need everything spotless for tomorrow, so go clean the windows or something.»

Pasha hesitated, then extended a folder towards the director. «Take a look at this. I’ve put together some thoughts on how to improve things here.»

«Are you kidding me?» the director exploded. «We have experts for that. Do you really think you, a cleaner, have anything valuable to add? Get out before I throw you out!»

His folder was discarded into the trash as the director dismissed him. Dejected, Pasha returned to his cleaning cart, resigning himself to his role until Tanya recovered. But he couldn’t let go of his dreams just yet.

The next morning, Pasha arrived early to clean the director’s office and noticed his discarded folder in the trash. Compelled by a defiant hope, he retrieved it and placed it among the official documents on the board’s table.

As the board members arrived, Pasha watched nervously from a distance. The atmosphere was tense as they began to review documents. Suddenly, one of the board members picked up Pasha’s folder, his brow furrowing in curiosity.

The director’s face went pale as he tried to dismiss it as a mistake, but the board member seemed intrigued and began questioning him.

Suddenly, Katya approached Pasha with a worried look. «They’re asking for you in the office. What have you done, Pasha? You’re just a cleaner!»

Pasha swallowed hard, his heart racing. «Well, you only live once,» he murmured, preparing for the worst. «If this is it, goodbye, Katyusha.»

With a deep breath, Pasha entered the boardroom. The sight of twelve board members and a flustered director awaiting him was overwhelming, but he stood his ground, ready to face the consequences of his audacity.
«What is the meaning of this?» the boss began, his voice laced with anger as he pointed at the folder on the table.

«Enough!» snapped the board member who had first opened the folder. «If you’d been paying attention to what’s in these reports, perhaps our branch wouldn’t be on the brink of failure.»

Turning to Pavel, he asked, «Is this your work?»

«Yes, it is,» Pavel responded, his voice steady despite the tension.

The board member stood, approached Pavel, and extended a hand. «I’m Igor Petrovich,» he introduced himself, his voice resonating with authority. «Your analysis is impressive. Why on earth are you working as a cleaner?»

«I have the necessary skills,» Pavel said quietly. «I’ve tried to highlight my abilities before, but without success. I grew up in an orphanage and was recognized for my intellect there and at university.»

«An orphan,» Igor Petrovich muttered, a mix of surprise and respect coloring his tone.

The room fell silent, the weight of the moment palpable as all eyes turned to Pavel and Igor Petrovich.

«You’re dismissed,» Igor Petrovich declared to Pavel’s boss. «We need a competent leader here. And Pavel,» he turned his attention back, «I’m appointing you head of the analytics department. After reviewing your work, I believe everyone will agree with this decision.»

«Pavel, congratulations,» Igor Petrovich continued, his tone warm. «We’ll ensure you have everything you need. Where are you currently living?»

«With my partner, in a rented apartment,» Pavel replied.

«Our company provides housing for essential staff. Take a company car, move your belongings, and don’t worry about the rent. Can you start soon?»

«Immediately!» Pavel exclaimed, his heart soaring.

«Take a couple of days off to prepare,» Igor advised. «We have a lot to improve here. Any specific requests before you start?»

«Only one,» Pavel said. «If possible, I’d like a higher salary for my personal secretary, and I’d request Katya from reception. Her kindness and professionalism are exemplary.»

«Consider it done,» Igor nodded. «She’ll be in the office next to yours when you begin.»

With a final handshake, Igor apologized for the earlier oversight and returned to the board. Pavel walked out into the corridor, his mind racing.

«Pashka!» Katya called out, her voice tinged with worry. «What happened? You look shaken.»

«Kat, thank you for everything. You’re a wonderful person,» Pavel managed to say.

«Were you let go?» Katya’s brow furrowed.

«No, it’s quite the opposite,» Pavel replied, breaking into a relieved smile. «I’ve been given a few days off. I’ll fill you in later.»

«Promise me,» Katya insisted, her curiosity piqued.

As he stepped outside, Pavel felt the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, a profound sense of freedom filling him. He wandered towards home, stopping only to buy flowers with the last of his money.

Unlocking his apartment door, the smell of pancakes greeted him. «Pashka,» Tanya called from the kitchen, sounding busy but excited. «Just a minute, I’m coming!»

As Tanya approached him, balancing with her crutches, Pavel’s emotions welled up. Seeing her, he felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude and love.

«Is everything alright?» Tanya asked, noting his unusual expression and the bouquet in his hands.

«These are for you, Tany,» Pavel said, his voice trembling slightly. Then, with a hopeful smile, he asked, «Will you marry me?»

Who ran into the cafeteria again and stole a loaf of bread?» Lidia Fedorovna scolded as she opened the doors to the children’s room, a strict caretaker feared by all the children. She couldn’t stand when something happened behind her back and she found out about it later. Today, Sasha was just unlucky. The boy had stolen the bread not just for himself but had shared it with other children. However, none of them wanted to be on the wrong side of Lidia Fedorovna’s perpetually bad mood. Sasha had to take the blame for all the boys and was put in the corner for the entire day.

The next day, the caretaker was replaced by the calmer and kinder Maria Igorevna. With her, Sasha didn’t feel humiliated or insulted. She didn’t even scold them if the children took unallocated food from the cafeteria. She knew that every child needed to grow and that eating was essential for life. Moreover, time with Maria Igorevna was interesting. She knew how to keep the orphans engaged and entertained.

When the mean caretaker was on duty, Sasha always looked for a chance to escape from the orphanage. This time, the eleven-year-old boy used his secret escape route, known only to himself. Even the guard, Uncle Vadim, was unaware of it. By moving a couple of boards, Sasha quietly climbed through the fence and escaped to freedom.

It was late autumn outside. The leaves had long fallen, and the snow had not yet started. Nature seemed gloomy. Birds hid away in the warmth. A little boy walked through the park in an unbuttoned jacket. Sasha enjoyed this unusual solitude, imagining himself as an adult. He had long wanted to grow up and leave the walls of the orphanage, where he had to endure strict rules. As he walked between the trees, he enjoyed the sound of rustling leaves and listened to the cawing of crows flying overhead. The sun was covered by grim clouds. Passersby occasionally walked along the paved paths, their gaze downcast. Sasha had time to observe each one. «They probably have their own homes and children… Why would they need me?» he thought sorrowfully to himself. Suddenly, a stranger extended a small package to him.

«Here, this is for you,» said the man. «For me? What is it?» «Cookies. I see you often wander here alone. Where is your family?» asked the stranger. «I… I…» Sasha decided not to reveal where he was from, so he ran in the opposite direction of the park, holding the treat in his hands.

The boy ran a few more meters and noticed an elderly man sitting on a bench, chin resting on the palms of both hands, deep in thought.

«Hello!» greeted the child, approaching the old man. Sasha noticed his sad look and felt a sudden pity for the grandfather.

The boy sat next to him on the bench and began to greedily eat the cookies. «May I have a piece?» the man suddenly asked, reaching out for Sasha’s treat. «Of course, you can! We always share with each other in the orphanage,» the child replied, handing a sweet to the old man’s palm. Then he paused. He had decided not to tell anyone that he was from an orphanage and had inadvertently let it slip! «So, you’re a runaway?» concluded the companion. «And I sit here, unable to understand where I came from… I walked and walked and forgot… That’s how we are, old people.»

Sasha caught his breath. How good it was that the old man didn’t pick on him further! «Do you really not remember anything at all?» the child inquired curiously, and the old man nodded sadly. «It’s a disaster with me… a disaster. No one knows when such misfortune will happen to them… People can’t foresee their future, and for everyone, it ends the same—in old age…»

Sasha blinked rapidly, listening intently to the elderly man. He truly felt sorry for him now! Completely lonely and needed by no one. Sasha at least had his own little bed, a plate, a cup, and a spoon, but this grandfather didn’t even remember where he lived! Could there really be no kind soul in the world to take in this nearly helpless old man? He thought this as he glanced sideways at the elderly man.

«Do you have a phone with you? Maybe it could help,» the boy said maturely.

Digging through his pockets, the man pulled out an old-fashioned mobile phone that had gone out of style and handed it to Sasha. The child pressed a button, and the screen lit up. Unexpectedly, a number appeared.

«They’re calling you!» exclaimed the orphan. «Shall we answer?» The old man nodded. «I think they’ll tell you something quicker,» he said gloomily. Reluctantly, Sasha pressed the green button on the phone and held it to his ear. «Hello!» came a voice from the receiver. «Dad, where did you disappear to? We’ve been looking for you since last night!» «Hello. This isn’t your dad. I found this grandfather in the park. I’m sitting next to him right now,» the boy explained. «Tell me the address!»

Sasha gave the address of the park. After ending the call, he quickly said goodbye to the old man and ran back to the orphanage. The last thing he needed was to be punished by Lidia Fedorovna, whose mood was always foul.

«Little one, wait! San’ka!» the old man called after him, but the boy decided not to look back. «Thank you for the cookies!»

Returning to the orphanage, the boy hurriedly opened the doors and froze. Lidia Fedorovna stood in the doorway, looking very intimidating. «So, you’ve come back? How many times must I tell you: you can’t leave here on your own!» she cursed and, grabbing the child by the ear, dragged him down the stairs. «It hurts!» Sasha cried. «Where are you taking me?» «Worthless child!» the caretaker continued to scold. The child heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. «Sit here, you little brat,» the angry fury said loudly, throwing the boy into the corner of the room. «You’ll have plenty of time to think!»

Sasha looked around. It was very dark here. A dim light from somewhere above let the boy know: he was in solitary confinement. He began to bang on the doors and scream, but no one heard him. He eventually fell asleep by the doors. Tearful and unwanted. He dreamed. He and his father were walking through the city. His father was explaining something to him, and Sasha absorbed his words like a sponge. Being next to his dad felt so good, peaceful, and joyful…

A luxurious large car pulled up to the building of the orphanage.

«Oh, who is this coming to us?» exclaimed the nanny, looking out the window. «Lidia Fedorovna, there are some people outside.»

The caretaker also looked out the window and said: «I’m going to meet them. Clearly, the guests who’ve arrived are no ordinary visitors.» «Hello!» she said in a polite tone, opening the door for a man and a woman. «We’ve come to see you about a matter. May we come in?»

Lidia Fedorovna stretched into an unusual smile, one that only appeared on holidays, and led the guests inside. «We would like to see the boy. His name is Sasha. He’s 11 years old. He often runs away,» the man explained briefly. «Ah, Sasha?» exclaimed Lidia, then immediately frowned. «Is something wrong with him?» the guest asked worriedly. «No, it’s all as usual. Just…» «Then take us to him,» another guest suggested. «We would like to talk to him about an important matter.»

Reluctantly, the caretaker turned towards the staircase leading to the basement. «Are you saying Sasha is downstairs?!» the man exclaimed, following Lidia Fedorovna. «Yes, circumstances have led to this,» the caretaker muttered confusedly.

Finally, they reached an iron door. «Well, he’s in here,» the woman said, unlocking and opening the door. The guests gasped, seeing a child huddled in the corner of a four-walled room. «Sasha?» the man gaped. Then he turned to Lidia Fedorovna and said: «What are you allowing here? Why did you lock the boy in solitary confinement? Who gave you the right? This is illegal!» «He is to blame himself. He shouldn’t have run away from the orphanage!» «You know what? You’ll be the one running from this orphanage soon, looking for a new job!» the guest barked at her, then turned to the child: «Sasha, we’ve come for you.» «For me?» the boy said uncertainly. «Don’t be afraid of us,» the man continued, taking his hand. «Let’s go upstairs. I’ll explain everything.»

Later, Sasha learned that his unexpectedly arrived savior and his wife didn’t have children, and they had come to the orphanage specifically for him. «Thank you for feeding the grandfather in the park! That’s my father,» the man thanked the child. «If it weren’t for you, who knows how long he could have lasted or what kind of people he might have encountered. There are plenty of villains around these days.»

Sasha looked at his future parents, and it seemed to him like a continuation of his dream about a dad. He even pinched himself. Could it really be true, and was he soon to head to a new family?

… Lidia Fedorovna was fired that same day. The director promised her she would hustle, and she would no longer be accepted for a caretaker position.

Time passed. Sasha proudly walked out from where he had spent almost all his childhood years. He walked hand in hand with his new dad, who resembled the father from his dream. For the boy, a new life was starting, nothing like life in the orphanage. And finally, he would never again meet the malicious, irritable Lidia Fedorovna, who at that moment, under someone else’s supervision, was diligently mopping floors in another institution…

Andrey, a young chef with great talent and even greater ambitions, always dreamed of freedom. He wanted to create, to experiment, to break the rules. But working in a prestigious restaurant, where at first glance everything was in place—a good salary, a well-known name, and customers willing to pay any amount for dinner—turned out to be a trap for him.

«The menu is too simple,» he heard over and over from the owners when he proposed his ideas. They were little concerned with his concepts or his desire to bring something new. Andrey felt like a cog in a large machine that had long been running on a well-trodden path. For some, this was comfortable, but not for him. He didn’t want to repeat someone else’s recipes. He wanted to take risks, to experiment, to surprise.

After another argument with the manager, he decided it was time. He could not continue if the work no longer brought joy. And though a path full of uncertainties awaited him, this decision seemed right.

The idea to open his own mobile kitchen came by chance. One day Andrey was walking through a city fair. It was noisy, cheerful, full of smells, cries, and sounds that merged into a common rhythm. And then his gaze was caught by a row of food trucks, bright, colorful, as if from the movies.

In front of the visitors, dishes were being prepared: grills sizzled, pots boiled, and cooks smiled, joking with customers. Everything looked lively, real. Without strict rules, without «you can’t do that.» Just creativity and freedom.

«That’s it!» thought Andrey.

There, at the fair, he felt inspired. For the first time in a long time. The food truck seemed to him the perfect place to start: mobility, minimal investment, and most importantly—the ability to directly see people’s reactions. It was the chance he had been waiting for.

A month later, he bought his first van. To say it was in terrible condition is an understatement. Rusty body, squeaky doors, falling apart interior. But Andrey saw something more in this wreck.

He tackled the project with enthusiasm. The van was repainted bright orange to immediately attract attention. The slogan «Taste on Wheels» appeared on the sides—Andrey came up with this name in a couple of minutes, sitting with friends over a cup of coffee. One of his friends, a designer, sketched a logo that now adorned the doors.

«Let the brightness convey what I want to do: something unusual that will delight people,» he explained.

The van became his canvas, and the kitchen inside—a space for experiments.

The hardest part was coming up with the menu. Andrey knew he wanted to stand out. Banal hot dogs and shawarma were not his level. He needed ideas that would captivate.

After sleepless nights and endless experiments, his first signature dishes appeared:

Duck tacos with a hint of Eastern spices. Light Asian soups prepared right in front of guests. Homemade desserts that reminded people of childhood: for example, fluffy eclairs with condensed milk cream. Each dish was meticulously thought out. Andrey wasn’t just cooking food—he was creating emotions.

«Food should tell a story. So that a person tries it and wants to come back,» he said.

But everything didn’t go as smoothly as he had dreamed. On the first day of operation, when he parked near the city park, the generator in his van broke down. He had to urgently find an electrician so that everything would work by evening.

On the second day, it turned cold suddenly, and there were almost no customers. Andrey stood in the van, wrapped in a warm jacket, wondering: maybe he had made a mistake by leaving a stable job?

But on the third day, something happened that restored his faith.

An elderly couple approached the van. They studied the menu for a long time, then ordered a portion of tacos each. At first, they ate in silence, but then the woman suddenly smiled and said:

«This is the best dinner we’ve had in years.»

These words restored Andrey’s confidence. He realized that it was all not in vain.

One day, Andrey noticed a strange visitor. It was an elderly man with noble facial features. He had been coming for several days in a row but never ordered anything. He simply sat at one of the nearby tables, watched the people, and quietly left after an hour or two.

The man carried himself upright, as if he had a serious past behind him. His clothes looked clean but quite worn. Sitting at the table, he barely moved, just watched others who were eating, chatting, and laughing.

At first, Andrey thought he was just a passerby. But when he came for the third consecutive day, something tugged at Andrey’s heart. It seemed unlikely that a person who was just wandering would come to a mobile kitchen daily.

On the fourth day, Andrey couldn’t stand it anymore. He prepared a plate of hot tacos, brought it to the old man’s table, and placed it in front of him.

«Please, enjoy,» he said kindly.

The man looked up at him. There was a mix of surprise and a sort of sad embarrassment in his eyes.

«I… I don’t have any money,» he quietly replied, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

Andrey smiled, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

«It’s free. Just try it.»

The old man hesitated, as if he couldn’t believe his ears, but then he picked up the fork. He tried it. And then something strange happened: his eyes widened, he froze, as if he remembered something.

«Incredible,» he exhaled after a pause.

After that incident, the old man opened up. His name was Mikhail Arkadyevich. In the 80s, he was the head chef at one of the city’s finest restaurants. Andrey had heard of this restaurant—a legendary place that was not easy to get into. Mikhail proudly told him that he personally developed the menu and cooked for high-ranking guests.

But over the years, the restaurant closed. Everything changed: fashion, tastes, life. Mikhail lost his job, then his housing, and with it, the opportunity to return to his profession.

«Age, health,» he explained, shrugging. «Time works against us, you understand?»

Andrey listened, and his heart clenched. It was hard to believe that this man sitting in front of him once cooked for the elite.

«I just love watching people eat,» Mikhail confessed. «It reminds me of the times when I was in my place.»

The words «in my place» struck a chord with Andrey. He suddenly remembered how he had floundered between different jobs for several years, trying to understand what he truly enjoyed. And only now, with this kitchen, did he feel genuinely happy.

«Mikhail Arkadyevich,» he said after a pause. «Would you like to work with me?»

The old man looked at him as if he had heard something utterly impossible.

«I…» he began but paused, searching for words.

«Come on,» smiled Andrey. «Just come and help. I need someone who understands good cuisine.»

Mikhail Arkadyevich was silent for a long time. Then he quietly but firmly said:

«I’ll think about it.» He soon agreed.

Mikhail and Andrey felt a connection from the first day. Mikhail not only contributed his recipes to the project—he became a mentor, a true «master» who knew cuisine not from books but from life. His approach was inspiring. Even simple actions, like how he skillfully chopped onions or neatly sliced meat, became a lesson.

Cooking is love,» he said with that confident wisdom that could dispel any doubts. «If you cook without soul, the food won’t forgive you.»

Andrey listened carefully. It was important for him not just to learn to cook, but also to understand the philosophy of food. Mikhail often told stories: how he once prepared duck with orange sauce for a minister, how he devised an unusual menu for a celebrity wedding, or how he once saved a banquet by replacing a spoiled dessert with his chocolate truffles.

«Food isn’t about the ingredients,» he said, adding a pinch of spices to the boiling broth. «It’s about emotions. About memory.»

Andrey was inspired. So inspired that he was ready to try everything new. They began to experiment. First cautiously. For example, Mikhail suggested serving soups in edible bread bowls. The idea instantly became a hit. Then they went further: fillings for pies that no one expected, unusual spices, «reverse» salads where the sauce was served separately in little jars.

And every time customers approached the van, it was as if the sun lit up inside Andrey. There was nothing better than seeing someone try a new dish and smile.

One evening, as work was winding down, an elderly couple approached the van. They stood at the menu, reading each line as if weighing their decision. But their gaze betrayed their confusion.

Mikhail noticed this right away.

«Wait,» he said to Andrey, stopping him from asking.

A minute later, Mikhail emerged from the van with two plates of hot soup. He carefully placed them in front of the couple and smiled gently.

«This is on us. Enjoy your meal.»

The couple was initially taken aback but then sincerely thanked them. They ate slowly, savoring every sip. And Andrey stood aside and watched this scene as if it was a small play about simple, but genuine happiness.

«We should do this more often,» he said to Mikhail after they left.

That’s how it started. At first once a week, they gave food to retirees. Then came those who were in difficult situations: single mothers, students, people who simply lacked warmth. Andrey was surprised to see how these small gestures changed not only the lives of others but their own as well.

The «Taste on Wheels» van became not just a kitchen. It became a place where people came for food but stayed for the atmosphere. People knew that here they would be listened to, supported, treated to something warm, and sometimes just given a kind word.

Soon they started talking about them.

It all began with a couple of customers. But with each day, more people came. Some learned about them from friends, others saw mentions on the internet. Then articles in local newspapers began to appear. Journalists sincerely admired not only the delicious food but also what Mikhail and Andrey did for people.

One evening, when the flow of customers finally subsided, Mikhail sat on the steps of the van. In his hand, a steaming cup of tea.

«You know, Andrey,» he suddenly said, thoughtfully looking at the sunset. «You brought me back to life.»

Andrey sat down next to him.

«And you inspired me not to give up,» he replied.

They both understood that they had become something more than partners to each other. Mikhail saw in Andrey a younger version of himself, and Andrey saw a teacher who helped him discover not only culinary talent but also the ability to change the world around him.

And now they had a goal. To open a few more such vans, to help even more people. In every city, in every province. But even years later, they fondly remembered the moment it all started.

With a simple plate of hot soup. And a sincere desire to help.

Taya took a long time to get ready and kept twirling in front of the mirror, scrutinizing herself. After all, today was a big day! Sergey had invited her to a very expensive restaurant, most likely intending to propose. She also had a surprise for her beloved; she had learned the astonishing news yesterday—she was two months pregnant. Her beloved would be thrilled!

The girl was already looking forward to a soon-to-be wedding, a beautiful dress, and her beloved by her side. Finally, her luck had turned, even as a poor orphanage girl. She had just got a job as a waitress in a pizzeria when this guy started hitting on her. Rich, smart, gallant, he gave such bouquets, recited Yesenin’s poetry. She fell in love instantly, watching her idol as if spellbound, hanging on his every word. One thing saddened her, Sergey was in no rush to introduce her to his parents and friends, they met secretly and stealthily, like thieves… He always said he was too busy, too much work…

But everything went awry! As soon as the young man heard about the pregnancy, it was as if he changed; he began to shout and blame Taya for everything:

«You what were you thinking? What children? I have a contract with Spain on the line, fate is being decided! Well, nothing, I will arrange it, I will give money, you will go to a trusted doctor, to settle everything within a week!» he declared sharply.

Taya burst into tears, trying to reach out to her beloved:

«Sergey, what are you saying? I can’t kill the baby… It’s already alive in there, feeling everything! I thought you loved me and would be happy! Well, know this, I am going to have this baby!» she blurted out, like a scalded cat and dashed headlong back to her dormitory, jumping over puddles…

Sergey was furious! What a fool, a miserable orphan! He hadn’t even planned to have anything serious with her, just got carried away by a pretty waitress from the pizzeria, it happens to anyone. In fact, he already had a profitable match, the ambassador’s daughter, Anna, and his departure to Spain was only possible after their wedding. What to do now? And if this poor girl runs and tells everything to his father? Or someone else? It’s over! Then he accidentally saw an ad in the newspaper: «A tourist trip to Siberia! Romance, songs around the campfire, the beauty of the wild taiga forest! An unforgettable weekend!» «There’s my chance!» he thought. The main thing is to plan everything thoroughly, and leave her there, no one will even look for this orphan, she’ll disappear in the forest, so be it!

The next day, Taya couldn’t concentrate at work at all, everything was slipping from her hands. She had already been scolded twice and threatened with dismissal when suddenly there was a call. The excited girl picked up the phone, Sergey reported:

«Taya, my beloved, I was wrong and got carried away. Let’s make up, I suggest going on a super trip this weekend, a tour in the taiga forests! You’ve always dreamed of romance, haven’t you?» he pleaded.

The girl almost shouted with joy! «Hooray! He finally came to his senses! I knew he loved me!» she rejoiced and of course immediately agreed. They had never traveled together before, and she had missed it so much, three whole days with her beloved.

The beauty of the taiga amazed Taisiya to her core! Huge, mighty cedars, sprawling firs, a sea of cranberries and blackberries, and the purest, intoxicating air away from the polluted city. She listened with her mouth open to the guide and didn’t lag behind him for a step. The tour was coming to an end, only the last route and the way home were left for tomorrow. They spent the night in wooden guest houses near a small village of ten houses. Sergey was very nervous, his plan was under threat! The stubborn girl didn’t want to separate from the group: she happily sang songs with everyone and ate fish she had caught herself, baked on the campfire. The guy realized, it’s now or never.

He woke up the already dozing girl and excitedly began:

«Dear, help! I’ve lost my documents, apparently dropped them at the rest stop! Let’s go look! I can’t go anywhere without them, it takes a long time to replace them, there are bank cards and licenses there!»

Taya hesitated:

«Well, let’s already do it tomorrow, tell the guide, he will help, we’ll get lost ourselves? And it’s nighttime outside…»

But the wretched villain continued to press for pity:

«Well, look, will he turn the whole group around just because of me! Well, dear, it’s not far here, I remember our route perfectly! Besides, I’ll take a flashlight, we’ve always been on the path and never strayed deep!»

The trusting naive girl agreed and went to rescue her beloved, not even noticing a coil of rope under Sergey’s jacket. They walked for a long time, having lost their way from the daytime route, Taya was very tired and out of breath from the fast pace, she was cold and scared. At night, the forest was not at all gentle and friendly, she imagined predators under every bush and flinched at every crack of a branch…
Taya couldn’t take it anymore:

«Serezha, enough, I can’t go on! Your wallet is nowhere to be found, and you can’t see much with just a flashlight! Let’s go back, we’ll search more tomorrow!»

The young man behind her grimaced maliciously and whispered quietly:

«Well, you decided this yourself! May you be lost forever, idiot! I hate you!» – and he slammed a heavy log onto her head. The girl groaned and slumped to the ground.

To be sure, Sergey dragged the poor thing further away from the path, tightly tied her with a rope around a tree to make sure she couldn’t escape. He put a gag in her mouth and raced back to the camp faster than the wind. Her small, battered backpack, he hid in his heavy suitcase. He was shaking and pounding, afraid that she might survive and come running back. He didn’t have the courage to finish the job… He hoped that the wild animals in the dense forest would tear her apart, ending everything!

In the morning, Sergey approached the tour guide with a distressed look and reported:

«Alexander, you know, my fiancée and I argued last night, she didn’t like the romance here. She felt unwell and left by taxi in the middle of the night. I just called her, she’s waiting for the morning flight. And I think I will also fly home, I’m not in the mood to go with you, it will be lonely without my beloved.»

«What news,» the guide exclaimed, surprised, «first time I’ve encountered this! But well, we are all adults here, these things happen in families. If you like, we’ll be back by lunch, have a bite to eat, and the bus will come for us, but of course, it’s up to you. You have exactly thirty minutes to think it over while I get the group ready for the hike.»

Alexander was not perturbed by the man’s story, as tourists often took taxis to and from guesthouses. Moreover, it was clear: here was a well-to-do, respectable man, not a criminal, and there was no need for him to lie.

Sergey was elated! Hooray, everything worked out, he finally got rid of the annoying pest, now he just needed to quickly marry Anna and flee abroad to escape sin! How well everything turned out! This subhuman was not the least bit troubled that he had destroyed two lives with his own hands…

Taya woke up closer to noon, barely able to open her eyes… Her hands were numb and terribly sore, she was tightly tied to a tree. Mosquitoes had bitten her beyond recognition, her face was swollen and puffed up. But the worst was yet to come, looking around, the girl froze in horror. Two glowing wolf eyes were staring directly at her. The beast growled, baring its huge, yellowish fangs, its fur bristled, it smelled the scent of helpless prey and was preparing to feast! The animal moved closer and closer, the girl closed her eyes in terror, squinted tightly, and moaned, using her last strength, preparing to die a second time!

Suddenly, shots rang out, one, then another, very close, just inches from her… The frightened beast jumped to the side and disappeared into the bushes!

Above her loomed a burly man in camouflage clothing with an ugly scar across his face:

«Hey, are you alive? Hang on, I’ll untie you now! Who did this to you? Ay ay ay! What inhuman creatures!» — he lamented.

Finally, she was freed, Taya tried to stand up, but her frozen legs were numb and would not obey, her head was buzzing, she barely managed to whisper with her cracked, dry lips:

«Thank you!» – and she collapsed unconscious.

Ranger Mikhail just shook his head:

«What are you going to do?» – he picked up the weightless stranger in his arms and carried her to his cabin.

On the way, he pondered: «Where could she have come from? Judging by her clothes, definitely not a local. Maybe a tourist, they sometimes bring them here on excursions, could she be from there? But why tied up and with a serious head injury, someone really hit her hard! She miraculously survived, no doubt about it!»

For three whole weeks, he nursed the girl, fed her medicinal brews, brought down her fever, the stranger was delirious all the time, calling for some Serezha…

Finally, the crisis passed, and the girl came to herself. Taya lay on a huge, soft bed, smelling of tobacco and some spicy herbs. And she was afraid to speak, watching the huge man who fussed over her like a child. His fearsome appearance scared the guest, and that scar on his face with the thick beard.

The stranger started first:

«Well, beauty, I see you’re feeling better. I’m Mikhail, the local ranger. And what might your name be?»

«Taya I am…» she whispered softly.

«Well, Tayechka, tell me, how did you end up here? And who did this to you, and tied you up with ropes? Probably should report this to the police, they might be looking for you already?»

Taya remembered all the horrors she had experienced and burst into tears from the offense and hopelessness:

«I have nowhere to go! And no one is looking for me! And to die, my fiancé left me! Because I’m pregnant, and I didn’t want to have an abortion! And he deliberately arranged everything and left me here. His last words I remember: ‘I hate you!’ It would have been better if the beasts had really torn me apart! How am I to live now?» – and she wept bitterly.

Misha frowned:

«That’s how it is? Well, lie down for now, I need to think! And chase those dark thoughts away from yourself! Up there, it’s clearer, who is meant to live and who it’s time to die already!» – and he left, slamming the door behind him.

Taya listened, the burly man was chopping wood and piling it up. Ten minutes later, everything went quiet. He came in, sat on a chair next to her, and said:

«So, my dove, I believe you, I feel you’re not lying, your eyes are honest, and believe me, I’ve seen all sorts of people. Stay with me if you want, I won’t drive you away or reproach you. I don’t promise mountains of gold, life here is hard, work is necessary. But the taiga is generous, it feeds everyone, rich in its forest gifts! I’ll accept the child as my own, all fair and square. And if not, I won’t force you, go to the city if you must, I’ll help you get there» – and he went for another round in the forest.

Misha never expected this from himself. After all, he had long vowed never to let anyone close, especially women. Life had been harsh to him. He served in Afghanistan, was captured, and spent three years in a pit, enduring unimaginable hardships, and the scars lasted a lifetime. He then screamed through many nights like a madman, waking up in cold sweat. His mother did not survive the wait; she died miserable, and his fiancée, Alyonka, a traitor, rejected him as soon as she saw his disfigured face. So, he retreated deep into the forest and remained there as a gamekeeper. He loved his job and understood animals with a mere glance, and they reciprocated.

And then this meeting happened! At first, he felt incredibly sorry for this poor creature, but gradually, as he nursed her back to health, he unknowingly fell in love with her small, almost childlike hands, dimples on her slender cheeks, and her delicate blonde curly hair… Today, he decided to confess everything, come what may. He was a straightforward man, not skilled in lying or deceiving.

Late in the evening, as the man returned home carrying a hunted hare over his shoulder for dinner, he approached his cabin with anxiety. He tormented himself, wondering if she had given up on everything and left, or if she had stayed?

Seeing the light in the window, his heart felt lighter, and he smiled to himself through his bushy beard. The house smelled of something delicious. Taya was finishing cooking mushroom cabbage soup, with a fragrant brew bubbling on the stove.

Without any unnecessary words, she looked into his bottomless brown eyes and whispered:

«I agree, Misha, I will be with you in sorrow and in joy! Thank you! Just don’t leave me or betray me!»

Eighteen years flew by in a flash, and the gamekeeper Kashin’s family was enviable, with a loyal beautiful wife Taisiya and a son Yaroslav, a clever athletic young man as tall as a rake. Over the years, Taya only grew more beautiful, the love and care of her husband, and the fresh taiga air made her rosy, strong, and radiant with health. She never regretted staying in the Taiga with Misha, this silent giant with a fierce face, who dusted off every speck from her and they lived soul to soul. He adopted Yarik right away and raised him as his own, with strictness and fairness. The boy did very well in school, and it was decided to send him to the capital to enter university, as he had dreamed of becoming a doctor since childhood.

Taya resisted and wouldn’t let the boy go alone, lamenting:

«Don’t even try to persuade me, I will go to the city with Yarik! He has never seen anything beyond our district center, and I once lived in Moscow, I’ll help him settle in the dormitory, and then I’ll go home with a clear conscience!»

Misha frowned, he didn’t want to let his wife go to that damned capital, only misery came from it, and he had a bad premonition. But he couldn’t leave his job, so he grudgingly agreed!

Walking through the bustling, fussy, and crowded Moscow, Taya and Yarik were constantly turning their heads in astonishment! How everything had changed over the years! Luxurious new buildings, skyscrapers, and such interesting cars! Mother and son went to the subway. There, beggars and paupers swirled around. One nearly threw himself at their feet with an outstretched hand. Something eerily familiar seemed to her about this unkempt, foul-smelling, and shabbily dressed unpleasant man. She tossed some change into his grimy cap, and looked at him again, observing more closely.

Suddenly he cried out:

«Taya? Can it be? You’re alive? It’s me, Sergey! Remember me?»

The woman felt as if scalded by boiling water from a kettle, with forgotten horrors and the snarl of a ferocious wolf flashing before her eyes…

Meanwhile, the man intently looked at Yarik:

«Isn’t this my son, yes? He looks just like me in my youth, even the mole under the ear is exactly the same, no need for any tests!»

The boy looked puzzled at his mother:

«Mom, who is this? And what is he talking about? He’s just sick, right?»

Taya was in shock, at a loss for how to react or what to answer anyone.

Sergey, meanwhile, wasted no time, seizing the moment:

«I want to communicate with my son! I have every right to! See how life has broken me! My wife left me, my business failed, and everything went downhill from there! Now I stay in a shelter and beg for alms! But remember how we loved each other, Taya?» – the manipulative man pressed for pity.

Finally, Taya came to her senses, turned to her son, and looking straight into his eyes, declared:

«No, son, this man isn’t lying, he’s your biological father! Eighteen years ago, after finding out I was pregnant with you, he took me to the taiga and left me to die in the forest, and to make sure, he hit me with a log, tying me dead to a tree! Remember, son, you asked where I got the scar on the back of my head, now you know the truth…» — turning to the homeless man, Taisiya continued. «Probably from great love you treated me this way, right Sergey? The gamekeeper, Mikhail, saved me from death, sheltered me, and proposed marriage, and you, Yaroslav, he took in and raised as his own! And this scoundrel lived peacefully all these years, fully aware of what he did and thinking my bones had long disappeared in the forest! So decide, son, whether you want to communicate with such a daddy or not? You’re already an adult, think for yourself!»
She exhaled, turned away, and stepped aside, giving her son the right to decide what to do himself. It was unbearable for her to see this failure of a man; she felt nothing but hatred for him and did not pity him at all!

With disgust and almost hatred, the boy looked at Sergey:

«You are a monster! I regret ever meeting you here! Don’t dare come near me or my mother, or you will regret it, now there’s someone to protect her! You are nothing to me! A stranger. My father, Mikhail Kashin, is the best and most honorable man, and I need no other!» – and Yarik approached his mother. He tenderly embraced her shoulders:

«Let’s go, Mom, or we’ll be late for the interview! God be his judge!»

Sergey stood as if spat upon, angry at himself. For the first time in all these years, he realized what he had done eighteen years ago, how cruelly and vilely he had acted, nearly depriving a mother and her child of their lives. Fate had cruelly punished him for this, leaving him destitute in his old age. No family, no children, no roof over his head, no job. Just a dirty and unkempt bum, looked upon with disdain and disgust by everyone.

He watched for a long time as the woman who once loved him and his own son walked away forever, and through a veil of tears, he whispered:

«Forgive me, son, for everything…»

Yarik successfully enrolled in the university, settled all the housing matters, thankfully there were still places in the dormitory, and they returned home as there was still a whole month left until the academic year.

Misha nearly went mad waiting for Taya and Yarik, spinning all kinds of worries in his head. He feared that once she was in the capital after so many years, she might want to stay there? After all, what was here but the forest and wildlife… And she was such a beauty!

Finally, the right train appeared at the station, and out of the carriage stepped his beloved wife with their son. The wife threw herself into her husband’s neck, hugged him tightly, inhaled the familiar scent of tobacco and wormwood, and whispered:

«How much I love you, Mishenka! We are finally home! Even the air here is different, native somehow, unlike in that Moscow.»

Yarik extended his hand to the man, shook it firmly, and said:

«Hello, Dad, I’ve missed you! How about we go fishing tomorrow, I bought such great bait!» – and the young man winked at Mikhail.

The gamekeeper felt so warm and content inside, and for the thousandth time, he thanked heaven for that lucky find in the forest, eighteen years ago!

In the evening, everyone jovially drank fragrant tea with aromatic cranberry jam, cracked nuts, and cheerfully recounted their adventures in the capital. Neither mother nor son mentioned the encounter with Sergey, even without discussing it, both knew they had a happy, united family, so why bring up unnecessary worries?

Anya fundamentally could not understand why they needed this man in their house. She always wanted her mom to get married and be happy, but not with him. The girl sat on the sofa, pretending to read a book, while stealthily watching Arthur. He had just woken up and was now casually moving around the house, ignoring Anya and constantly talking on the phone. And as she understood, definitely not to a man. Apparently, he thought she was too young to care, as he spoke freely, «Mil, what are you saying? I have a wedding in two weeks, and you want to seduce a nearly married man?» He listened to the responses, laughed, and then talked again. Anya was disgustingly repulsed by hearing all this and by the fact that this man, whom her mom loved so much, was deceiving her.

Anya abruptly put down her book. Arthur turned, looked at her attentively, and went into the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind him. Anya decided to consult with her best friend. She slipped out onto the street and dashed down the road to the barracks not too far away, hidden from view by tall planted thuja trees, which seemed to separate the elite settlement from the ordinary city slums.

If Alla Olegovna knew her daughter went there, she probably would have had a heart attack. Anya checked her surroundings, nobody was nearby. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled piercingly. Immediately, a shaggy head popped out of a barrack window:

«Anya, come in, the folks went to grandma’s.»

She jumped over the windowsill, who needs doors, and asked:

«Why didn’t you go?»

Petka, Anya’s friend, scratched the back of his head:

«I got a D in English, so I’m cramming, or else my dad promised to belt me.»

Anya smiled. Petka’s dad was big, bearded, and terribly kind. All the kids in the courtyard loved him, but he periodically threatened to belt Petka, though he had never yet followed through.

«Anya, what’s up? We only agreed to meet tomorrow evening.»

«Petka, I need your advice.»

Petka was a whole two years older than her. Anya had just turned twelve, while Petka was already fourteen, so he was a real authority for her. They had been friends for a long time, ever since Petka helped her get home when she fell off her bicycle at eight.

«Yeah?» Petka closed his textbook. He knew that changes were coming soon in Anya’s family, and he immediately understood that his friend came to him with this. Anya told him about Arthur’s behavior, saying that her mom noticed nothing at all. «Petka, I don’t understand, how do I tell her so she’ll believe me?»

«I don’t understand what you’re afraid of, you and your mom have a good relationship, just sit her down and tell her everything, she’ll definitely listen to you, or at least take heed.»

Anya pondered. That was true. They had always been close with her mom, though recently they weren’t as they used to be, no more watching movies or discussing things cuddled up. Now her mom cuddled and discussed everything with Arthur.

«Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks, Petka.»

The guy blushed:

«No, why? Thanks for what?»

«Well, for being there.»

In the evening, Arthur started getting ready to go out. Alla, who had just come from work, looked at him surprised.

«Where are you going?» He kissed her and replied.

«Oh, just going to sit at the bar with a friend, I’m about to be a married man, won’t have the chance later, and it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.»

Alla smiled:

«Go ahead, of course, I’m always at work with people, and you’re always home alone. And don’t hurry, relax, sit with your friend.»

«Thanks, darling, you’re the best.»

Only Arthur hesitated, and Alla slapped her forehead:

«Oh, I didn’t even think of it. Here, take this.» She quickly handed him some money. Arthur kissed her again and left.

Alla watched him go for a while, then turned to Anya as if remembering her existence:

«Well, shall we have a girls’ night out today?»

«Let’s, mom.» They cooked dinner together. Anya had already forgotten when they last did this. They dined, laughed, and after the dishes were done, Anya sat down in front of her mom:

«Mom, I want to talk to you.» Alla sighed:

«Anya, I know you don’t like Arthur. I know, rather, I remember he’s younger than me, but don’t you want your mom to be happy?»

«He can’t make you happy. While you’re at work, he talks to other women and now I’m sure he’s taken your money to the bar to meet someone else, not just his friend.»

Alla slammed her palm on the table: «Enough, that’s it. It hurts me to realize I’ve raised such a selfish girl. I don’t want to hear anything. And you’re too young to discuss such matters. Go to your room.»

Anya huffed offendedly and left immediately. Hopeless. Her mom just wasn’t listening to her. It seemed Anya would have to resign herself to the fact that Arthur was simply using her mom and her money. At night she woke up from loud voices, looked at the clock—it was half past three. Arthur had just returned, apparently not in very good condition. Her mom was scolding him, then he yelled: «Listen, Alla, why do you act like a grandma with her grandson? Stop nagging me.»

The bedroom door slammed. Then again, and Anya heard her mom’s apologetic voice. It was so disgusting that the girl pulled a pillow over her ear.

The next day, Anya and Petya sat on a wasteland:

«Yep, something needs to be done.»

Anya sighed:

«Petya, what can you do? You understand, mom only listens to him, she notices nothing.»

«When’s the wedding?»

«Petya, the tenth.»

Petya smiled:

«Listen, I have a plan. I don’t know if you’ll like it or not, but it seems there’s no other way for mom to hear you and understand something.»

Anya’s eyes lit up:

«Tell me, Petya!»

When Petya finished, Anya hesitantly shook her head:

«Petya, but how are we going to do it? You understand, we’re in school, and this needs…»

«Wait, I’ve figured it all out….»

The tenth was approaching. Arthur had even stopped arguing with mom. Yes, he was gone almost every evening, but Alla kept silent. Apparently, she remembered that scandal when Arthur compared her to a grandmother. Anya knew that Arthur was ten years younger than her mom. She didn’t see anything wrong with that if it weren’t for one «but.» She was sure. Arthur didn’t love her mom, and the recent investigations she and Petya conducted only confirmed it.

Anya was in her room when she overheard Arthur’s phone conversation:

«Mil, I’ve arranged with Kolya, come as his girlfriend. Don’t be scared, nobody knows you, of course. Just look at what awaits us now, what life. Come on, don’t grumble, I’ll only kiss her because I have to. And you, watch you don’t get drunk, I know you.»

Anya clenched her fists. «What a bastard, completely shameless.»

In the evening at the dinner table, Arthur casually said:

«Alla, I remembered about my friend, I’d like him and his girlfriend to be at the wedding, you’ll call the restaurant?»

«Of course, what friend?»

«You haven’t met him yet, Kolya, we were friends as kids, then he moved somewhere, but he just returned and called.»

«Well, that’s great, so many of your friends at the wedding, it’ll be fun.»

Anya stood up and silently left. She just couldn’t listen to all this, couldn’t watch how foolish her mom looked. Of course, she thought Arthur loved her, but Anya understood, he never loved her. And Arthur understood everything, and only mom remained completely clueless.

So much money was spent on the wedding that probably an ordinary person would have enough for a lifetime. But Alla spared nothing for her beloved. And she thought it was great, to organize such a celebration, when a real family forms, when there’s such love.

Only her daughter didn’t make her happy. Each time Alla promised herself that she would talk to Anyechka, that she would give her more attention, which Arthur had taken away, but a little later, after the wedding. Alla remembered their evenings together and thought that they definitely needed to return them. Just now they would watch some movie not just the two of them, but three.

The celebration took place in a lavish restaurant. Anya couldn’t concentrate on greeting everyone and responding to greetings. She hadn’t even noticed how beautiful the hall was. She was terribly nervous. She didn’t know what would happen after her congratulations. What if their plan didn’t work? What if mom got mad at her and that was it? Anya didn’t want any harm to come to her mom, but… The girl tried to talk to her again, but her mother abruptly dismissed her:

«Anya, stop, okay? You’re not a child to behave like this. After all, it’s low. Don’t spoil my mood before the most important day of my life.»

Anya stepped back. She couldn’t even say that before the most important day used to be her birthday.

«And now, congratulations from Anna, the bride’s daughter. Anyechka, please,» the host’s voice made her shudder.

In preparing the congratulations, all the boys from Petya’s courtyard took part. Anya straightened up and walked onto the stage:

«Mommy, before you see what I want to show you, I want you to know, I love you very much. And more than anything in the world, I want you to be happy.»

Then the host played a video recording that Anya had given him before the wedding. On the screen, Arthur passionately kissed a girl who was now sitting not far from him. Then Arthur in a bar and again with this lady, who was in her underwear. Now, nobody was looking at the screen, everyone was looking at the newlyweds. The lady immediately disappeared, and Arthur quietly slid under the table.

Anya saw her mom’s eyes.

«Mommy, forgive me, but you didn’t want to hear me, and he, he just doesn’t love you.»

Alla didn’t respond. Anya thought that at that moment her mom hated her. The girl threw the microphone into the host’s hands and ran out of the restaurant. Petya waited for her outside. Well, Anya didn’t answer, just ran past. Petya caught her near the river:

«Hey, stop, you crazy!»

Anya turned to him, buried her face in his chest, and cried:

«Petya, what have I done?»

«Nothing, everything’s right. Well, of course, it wasn’t very nice, but you were protecting your mom.»

They sat by the river and threw stones into the water. Both were silent. Finally, Petya asked:

«Are we going to sit here till morning?»

Anya shrugged:

«I don’t know. I don’t know what’s at home and how to go home.»

They were silent again. Petya said:

«Well, let’s go to my place. You know my mom, she’ll feed you, put you to bed.»

«I can’t. Mom will worry.» Anya’s words sounded unsure. «No, mom, of course, will worry, but probably not as much as before.»

«Anya!» The girl jumped. They and Petya stood up. Next to them stood Alla:

«Hello, Petya. Can I sit with you? I’m tired, I was looking for you.»

Petya grumbled:

«Of course. Here, sit on the jacket.» He spread his jacket, and Alla smiled:

«Thank you.» She sat down and carefully hugged Anya, «Forgive me, daughter!»

«No, mom, it’s you who should forgive me. It shouldn’t have been like this. I didn’t think that not only you but all the guests would see it.»

Alla smiled:

«Damn it. You know, Anyuta, it’s as if handcuffs were taken off me. I made up happiness for myself and ran around with it, like an idiot.»

«Mom, you’re not an idiot, you’re smart, beautiful, the best.»

Petya sat down next to them. Alla hugged him with the other arm:

«So, you’re the legendary Petya, whom I’ve heard so much about but never seen. Why have you never visited us?»

Petya chuckled sheepishly:

«Well, probably because I don’t live in your settlement.»

Alla looked at him concernedly:

«Where? Somewhere far?»

«No, not very, in the barracks. But don’t think, I don’t teach Anya anything bad.»

«And I don’t think so.»

«Wait, so you decided that I’m the kind who would look at you differently because you’re not…»

Petya nodded sheepishly.

«Wow. Anya, you know me, how could you think? You know what, let’s have a celebration tomorrow, invite Petya’s parents, your friends, I’ll invite someone from mine and let’s have a ‘party’ like you say.»

«We have a whole restaurant of food and a paid host.»

Anya laughed:

«Mom, what are we calling the celebration?»

Alla thought, then pulled out her phone:

«So, what do we have tomorrow? There, found it! Tomorrow is cat day. Anya, do you have anything against cats?»

Anya shook her head no and hugged her mom:

«I’m so glad you’re back. A good man, we’ll definitely meet him, you’ll see!»

Alla kissed her daughter on the top of her head:

«Alright, everyone home. Tomorrow I expect everyone at the celebration. Petya, be there with your parents!»

Nina flung open the school’s front door and entered the long corridor, where the light from daytime lamps created a sense of monotonous greyness. Early spring was outside, but the sunlight had not yet penetrated this academic sanctuary. For Nina, this school year, finishing the eleventh grade, was particularly tough. Her classmates excitedly discussed novels, future plans, and beautiful outfits for the graduation party. She, on the other hand, stood silently aside, feeling like an outcast.

Ever since first grade, Nina had been nicknamed «the pauper.» The boys constantly joked that she wore hand-me-downs and «fed on crumbs.» The girls, more sophisticated in their teasing, said Nina was «poor» and would surely be poor all her life. In the lower grades, she tried to fight back, to argue or fight, but it was all in vain: the parents of the other children were wealthy, buying their daughters fancy dresses, shoes, and gadgets. And Nina… she only had one skirt for special occasions and jeans from second-hand stores.

«Graduation is like a holiday for princesses,» the girls from her class would say from time to time. Listening to all these discussions about dresses worth tens of thousands of rubles, Nina felt pain. She imagined herself attending the graduation in old sneakers and a short dress, which everyone would laugh at. Just a week ago, a classmate, Masha, sneered in front of everyone: «So, Ninka, begging the headmistress for money for graduation again?» And the class burst into laughter. Nina then grabbed her textbook and ran out of the class to keep from crying.

This brought to mind a scene: in first grade, her parents bought her a beautiful pink dress with curls and bows, thinking their daughter would shine at the lineup — but just a day later, the boys spilled some paint on the hem, and the girls said, «That dress is cheap.» Her mother then said, «Honey, don’t cry, we’ll buy a new one,» — but it never happened: there wasn’t enough money, as her father had just started a new job, and her mother needed to pay off a loan…

Now, in the graduating class, the teasing and bullying not only continued but became harsher. The teachers tried to ignore the bullying: «The kids will sort it out themselves.» But this made Nina feel increasingly oppressed. On one such day, she couldn’t take the insulting words from several classmates and ran away in tears, missing half the lessons.

Returning home, she faced another nightmare: her father, who had recently lost his wife, had finally succumbed to alcohol. He sat, surrounded by empty bottles, muttering incoherently to himself. Seeing Nina, he just managed to say, «Why so early? Aren’t there lessons…» — and then he buried his face in the TV again. Nina sighed heavily: «Dad, we can’t keep going like this. Mom wouldn’t have wanted you to…»

But her father seemed to hear nothing, or perhaps he didn’t want to hear. Nina carefully gathered the bottles, took out the trash, aired the room to get rid of the stench, and sat down at the table, rubbing her eyes. «How could everything go so wrong?» she thought, recalling the past when her mom was alive and her father made plans. But an unexpected illness took her mother away, leaving the daughter and father alone with poverty and grief. Later, when her father sobered up, Nina tried to tell him about her problems: about the graduation, the taunts from classmates, the desire to look decent at least. But he just sighed, pressing his temples: «Nin, sorry, I have nothing… and who are you trying to prove anything to?» Saying this, he seemed to shut the door — he wasn’t planning to help. Nina felt bitter: «Dad, I’m not asking for much, just some moral support, maybe?» But he couldn’t give her anything — just said «Everything will be okay» and went to sleep.

‘

At that moment, Nina put on her jacket, went outside intending to take a walk so as not to cry in front of her father. Near the entrance, she bumped into a neighbor, Inna Romanovna, who knew their family and sympathized. Seeing Nina’s tear-filled eyes, she asked, «Having a tough time again, huh? How can I help?» But Nina just shook her head: «Thanks, I’ll figure it out.» Then the neighbor suggested, «If you want to earn a bit, there’s a hospital looking for janitors…»

Nina decided to work as a janitor at the local district hospital in the evenings. The money was small, but it was better than nothing. In the mornings, she went to school, endured the taunts, and then, closer to evening, put on her work uniform and cleaned corridors, wards, washed floors, and took out the trash — all secretly from her classmates. «I’ll surprise them,» Nina told herself, rubbing her bloodied palms. Her body ached from fatigue, but she imagined buying a nice dress, beautiful shoes, doing her hair, and showing up at graduation, making all her tormentors burst with envy!

At school, of course, rumors spread: someone noticed Nina heading to the hospital in the evenings. A few times, they yelled after her: «Hey, Ninka, what, the pauper went to mop floors, huh?!» But Nina just clenched her teeth harder. She wanted to prove that she wouldn’t give up.

Once during a break, Svetlova — a beautiful and very wealthy classmate, one of the main «queens of the class» — approached Nina. Svetlova snorted: «Listen, pauper, planning to show up at graduation in a janitor’s robe?» And she shoved her shoulder. Nina flared up: «I don’t care what you think. I’ll be at the graduation, too. Maybe I’ll even get the prom queen crown!» Svetlova gasped, then burst into laughter: «You? Queen of the prom?! I’ll crush you like a bug!» But Nina crossed her arms over her chest: «We’ll see.» And walked away.

In the following days at the hospital, an interesting incident occurred: Nina, sweeping the corridor, saw a little boy who had fallen off his scooter at the entrance, crying. A nanny was with him. Nina helped her calm the child, treat his abrasions. The tired woman inadvertently blurted out: «The boy’s mother is always busy, the father too, I’m alone here… What luck that you helped.» Nina shrugged: «It’s nothing. I hope the boy heals quickly.» — «Of course,» replied the nanny. «If only he had such a kind sister like you…»

Nina, putting away the mop, thought: «I’m just a janitor, but apparently, I can still do something good.» Subsequent events showed that her help was not in vain — her kind actions would echo back.

One evening, returning from the hospital almost at midnight, Nina was surprised to find no stench of alcohol in the apartment, her father sitting clean-shaven, flipping through newspapers. «Nin, I want to apologize,» he said, looking up. «I understand, I fell into an alcohol pit after Mom’s death, but… I see how you’re fighting for graduation, trying to prove something. Sorry for not helping. I want to make amends.» Nina felt warmth in her chest: «Thanks, Dad. I hope everything will work out.» He smiled sadly: «Let’s think together about how to buy you a dress? I’ll come up with something.»

It was incredible: the father, who had been lost in drunken days for months, suddenly decided to help his daughter. Nina was moved, but afraid to believe that it was for the long term. Nevertheless, he managed to get a seasonal job repairing entrances, and he brought home the first earned money. «Here, take it for the dress,» he said, handing over a modest stack of bills. Nina almost cried, but nodded.

Days flew by quickly: exams, school hassles… Graduation was relentlessly approaching. Nina had already saved enough money for the dress, part of which was given by the mother of the boy she once saved (it turned out, his mother learned about her help and passed an envelope through the nanny «for a good deed»). Nina hesitated, but eventually accepted, seeing it as an opportunity to fulfill a dream.

And suddenly, the father remembered that he spent his youth dancing in an ensemble and offered Nina to practice waltzing for the graduation. In the evenings, they turned on soft music, the father smiled, holding her hand: «I would have done this earlier, daughter, but sorry that it’s only now.» Nina stepped awkwardly at first, but gradually learned to hold herself gracefully. She felt joy at her back: although late, her father was returning to life.

Graduation night arrived. The school shone: balloons, flowers, crowds of dressed-up kids. Nina stood at the doors of the festively decorated hall, feeling a tremor in her chest: she was in a beautiful dress, light blue, with a small tulle overlay. The heels weren’t too high, but elegant. Her father appeared next to her, in a suit ironed as much as his modest budget allowed. «Here we are, daughter,» he said.

They took a step, and a whisper swept through the hall. Everyone who had previously teased Nina as «the pauper» literally froze, recognizing in her a magnificent young woman: neat hairstyle, posture. «Is that… Nina?» the girls whispered. And a classmate, standing next to Svetlova, murmured: «Wow…»

Svetlova grimaced as if someone had taken away her puppy: she had expected to be the main star, but now the attention was captivated by Nina. The planned vote for «Prom Queen» suddenly turned into a question: «Who’s against Nina?» For she shone, despite all previous taunts.

Just an hour later, after the ceremonial speeches, the voting results for «Queen» were announced: the host took the microphone and said, «By almost unanimous decision, the crown of prom queen is awarded to… Nina!» The hall applauded, including the teachers who secretly admired this girl’s resilience. And Svetlova, unable to contain herself, threw a malicious glance and stormed out, not accepting defeat.

Nina danced the waltz with her father and almost cried from happiness. «It’s a pity Mom can’t see this,» she thought, but felt that perhaps her mother saw everything from somewhere above. Classmates, forgetting all their malice, came with congratulations: «Congratulations… You’ve changed wonderfully,» «Sorry if we ever hurt you.» Some girls tried to justify themselves, but Nina just nodded amiably, not wanting to rekindle past grievances.

Soon Igor, the father of the boy she once helped in the hospital, approached her. He was on good terms with Nina’s father, it turned out. Igor also decided to support Nina, giving her a beautiful bouquet of roses. Nina was embarrassed: «Why so much?» And he: «Just wanted to say thank you for your kind deed.»

The fairy-tale night flew by. Nina realized that everything was changing: ahead were college, new opportunities, and most importantly — she had managed to stand firm in this school, without degrading herself or backing down.

Three years after graduation, Nina was studying at college, planning to become a nurse or social worker — since she liked working in the hospital. She continued to communicate with her father, who had quit drinking and was setting up life. At some point, a warm friendship developed between Igor and Nina, turning into something more. Just like that, fate gifted her with love she had never dreamed of.

Finally, in college, she finished her third year, and Igor, a bit older, with an established career, proposed. «Let’s get married after your graduation from university,» he suggested. Although the wedding was still in the plans, Nina squinted from happiness: «Here it is, the return of the fairy tale.»

One day, Nina, taking her father, younger brother (by her father?), and Igor, came to a bridal salon to choose a dress. The consultant smiled and asked, «What style do you like?» Nina, recalling how her classmates once called her «the pauper,» jokingly smirked: «Oh, maybe you have something left from the trash?» The consultant blinked in surprise, but seeing Nina laughing, she smiled too.

Nina mentally thanked herself for her courage in school, thanked her father for his repentance and support, and most importantly, understood that sometimes it’s worth fighting against taunts, even if everyone considers you «nobody.» Because at the end of the journey, a wonderful reward might await — a loving family, happiness, and respect from those who once did not believe in you.

«Mom, you’re just a pauper!» Pasha shouted, slamming the door of his room.

Larisa froze in the hallway, clutching her son’s unironed T-shirt to her chest. His words hit harder than a slap. She leaned against the wall, feeling her knees tremble traitorously. Such scenes had become more frequent lately.

«Pash,» she called softly, «let’s talk…»

«There’s nothing to talk about!» came from behind the door. «Everyone has normal parents, only I suffer with you. Look, Dimka’s parents bought him a new iPhone, and you? ‘Let’s wait until the next paycheck’… You never have money!»

Larisa closed her eyes. Sleepless nights over side jobs, the old car she sold to pay for Pasha’s English lessons, sandwiches instead of lunch… All for him. And now he was hurling such words.

«Son,» she tried to speak calmly, though her voice trembled traitorously, «you know I do everything I can…»

«Exactly!» The door flung open so abruptly that Larisa flinched. «All you can is NOTHING! And dad… dad understands what I need. He doesn’t skimp like you!»

Matvey. Her ex-husband, who left eleven years ago, abandoning her with a four-year-old child. Now he suddenly reappeared—a successful businessman, a loving father. Buying his son expensive gifts, taking him to restaurants, inviting him for weekends at his country house. Easy to be the good uncle, showing up once a week with presents. But who was up at night with a sick baby? Who patched torn jeans? Who made soups and checked homework?

«You know what, mom?» Pasha looked at her with some unfamiliar, prickly contempt. «I want to live with dad. He has a normal house, not this dump. And a cool car, not your bus. And at least… he’s achieved something in life!»

Each word struck hard. A hot tear rolled down Larisa’s cheek. She hastily wiped it away with her hand.

«So, that’s how it is,» she said unexpectedly firmly. «Want to go to your father—please. But don’t come running back to me with grievances.»

«And I’m not going to!» Pasha snorted. «Finally, I’ll live like a human.»

He demonstratively pulled out his phone—a gift from his father—and started typing something. Probably a message to Matvey. Larisa silently turned around and went to the kitchen. Her hands moved automatically: turn on the kettle, take out a cup, drop in a tea bag… She tried not to think about what had just happened. Not to think about how her only son, for whom she had lived all these years, had just trampled her heart.

Matvey called in the evening.

«Laris, Pasha said he wants to stay with me,» his voice carried poorly concealed pride. «You don’t mind?»

«I don’t mind,» she replied tiredly. «Take him. Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate you.»

«Come on,» Matvey laughed. «The boy just wants to live in normal conditions. What can you give him on your salary?»

Larisa silently hung up. She sat in the kitchen, looking into the darkening window. Behind the wall, some fuss—Pasha was packing his things. Hurrying. Can’t wait to escape from a ‘pauper’ mother…

«Lord,» she thought, «why? I did everything for him… My whole life—for him…»

In the morning, Pasha left. He packed two huge bags with things, grunted «bye» and slammed the door. Larisa was left alone in the empty apartment. She slowly walked through the rooms, pausing her gaze on the little things that reminded her of her son: socks scattered under the bed, an unfinished cup of cocoa on the table, a poster of a rock band on the wall… She entered his room, sat on the bed. It smelled of his favorite deodorant.

In the corner lay an old plush dog—his favorite toy in childhood. How many times she had patched that dog, sewn on torn ears, washed it… And now it was abandoned. Like her.

Suddenly, Larisa felt a strange relief. No more need to make breakfast he never eats. No need to wash a mountain of dirty socks and T-shirts. No need to endure reproaches and comparisons with «normal» parents…

She stood up, resolutely opened the closet, and took out a beautiful dress she had not worn in a long time—there was nowhere to wear it. Well, now she had time for herself. Maybe go to the cinema? Or to that cozy restaurant she had passed by so many times? Or…

The phone buzzed with a message. From Pasha: «Forgot my tablet charger. Bring it.»

Even no «please.»

«Sorry, son,» she typed in response, «I’m busy today. Ask dad to buy a new one. He can afford it.»

And for the first time in a long time, she smiled.

The first days at his father’s house seemed like a fairy tale to Pasha. A spacious three-story cottage, a huge room with a private bathroom, a brand-new computer… Beautiful furniture, expensive paintings on the walls—everything screamed wealth and success. How different it was from their old apartment with his mom in a panel building!

«Well, how do you like it?» Matvey waved his hand around the living room with pride. «Not like your mom’s dump, right?»

Pasha nodded in agreement, although something scratched at his chest at those words. Maybe a memory of how his mom sewed toys at night to save up for his new bike? But he dismissed these thoughts.

His father’s new wife, Marina, met her stepson coolly. A tall, well-groomed woman with perfect manicure, she seemed to radiate cold.

«Just don’t make a mess in your room,» she threw out instead of a greeting. «We’re not a hostel here.»

Her children—ten-year-old twins Kirill and Karina—looked at Pasha as if he was a curious insect.

«Is it true that you lived in a Khrushchyovka?» Karina asked at dinner. «And you didn’t even have your own bathroom?»

«I had one,» Pasha grumbled. «Not anymore.»

«Poor thing,» the girl stretched with poorly hidden mockery. «How did you live there?»

«I lived fine,» he snapped back.

«Kids, don’t fight,» Marina drawled lazily. «Pavel, don’t be rude to your sister.»

«What sister is she to me?» Pasha wanted to snap back, but he kept silent. His father was engrossed in his phone, paying no attention to the squabble.

Days dragged on slowly. His father was constantly missing for work, and when he was home, he was busy with the twins or talking to Marina. Pasha wandered through the huge house, feeling out of place. The brand-new computer no longer brought joy. At school, things were getting worse—no one checked his homework, no one made him sit down to study.

«Dad, maybe we could go for a walk?» he asked once.

«Sorry, son, busy,» Matvey brushed him off. «Here, take some pocket money.»

Money. Always just money. Did his father remember what his favorite music was? Did he know that he hated oatmeal? Did he suspect that he had nightmares during storms?

Mom knew. Always knew.

One evening, Pasha accidentally overheard his father’s conversation with Marina.

«How long is he going to stick around here?» his stepmother hissed. «He’s ruining the twins’ mood! And besides… I didn’t sign up to raise someone else’s kid.»

«Sweetheart, he’s my son,» his father hesitated.

«Exactly—YOUR son! You entertain him. He just sits around all day, muttering something under his breath… Maybe we should send him to a boarding school? There are excellent schools in Europe…»

Pasha quietly closed the door and went upstairs. His chest felt empty and cold. He took out his phone, opened the dialogue with his mom. The last message—two weeks ago, about the charger. Mom didn’t bring it. And he didn’t even apologize for being rude…

His finger hovered over the keyboard. What to write? «Sorry»? «I miss you»? «Can I come back»?

Pride wouldn’t allow it. He threw the phone on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. Tears treacherously flowed from his eyes.

A week later, Aunt Svetlana, Mom’s friend, called.

«Pasha… your mom’s in the hospital. Pneumonia. She didn’t want to call, but I think you should know.»

He rushed to the hospital, not even informing his father. Mom lay pale, emaciated, but smiled at her son with that familiar, dear smile.

«Pashenka…» she whispered.

And he couldn’t hold back. He fell to his knees by the bed, burying his face in the blanket: «Forgive me, mom… Forgive me, do you hear? I’m such a fool…»

«There, there, my little one,» her hand rested on his head, as in childhood. «It’s alright.»

«It’s not alright!» he raised his tear-stained face. «I said such things… And you still love me?»

«Silly boy,» she pulled him to her. «I’m your mom. I will always love you.»

After that, Pasha visited the hospital every day. Brought fruits, books, sat beside her, talked about his life—now honestly, without pretense.

«… and those twins, Mom, they’re just unbearable! Always teasing, acting up… And Marina! You know what she said yesterday? ‘Move your sneakers from the hallway, we’re not a dorm here!’»

Mom listened, sometimes smiling, but often frowning. One day she couldn’t hold back: «Pash, are you… are you happy there?»

He paused mid-sentence. Happy? A luxurious home, expensive clothes, the latest iPhone in his pocket… But why then did he feel so melancholy in the evenings? Why did he want to curl up in a corner and howl from loneliness?

«I don’t know, Mom,» he honestly replied. «Everything’s so… not mine. You know, like I’m a guest. A long-term guest.»

«I understand,» she stroked his hand. «You know, when you left… I didn’t know what to do either. At first, I was even relieved—peace, quiet. I started going to the theater, to exhibitions…»

«Really?» he raised his eyebrows in surprise. «I didn’t know you liked that.»

«Imagine, I didn’t know either,» she laughed. «So many years I lived only for the house, work, you… And then I realized: it can’t be like this. A person needs to develop, grow. Otherwise, what will they pass on to their children?»

Pasha was silent, digesting what he had heard. He had never thought of his mom as a… person. With her own dreams, interests, desires. She had always just been Mom—the one who cooks, washes, checks homework. And she, it turns out…

«Mom, let’s go together? Well, to the theater there, or wherever you want? When you get better.»

Her eyes lit up: «Really? You’d go with me?»

«Yeah,» he shrugged. «What’s the big deal?»

In the evening, returning to his father’s house, Pasha sat for a long time in his room. Downstairs, the twins were noisy, dishes clinked—the family was having dinner. They didn’t call him. He was used to it.

There was a knock at the door. His father.

«Pash, where have you been disappearing all day? Marina says you even skip dinner.»

«I was at Mom’s,» Pasha grumbled. «She’s in the hospital.»

«Oh,» his father hesitated in the doorway. «And how is she?»

«What does it matter to you?» Pasha blurted out. «You haven’t cared for eleven years!»

Matvey frowned: «Listen, son, don’t be rude. I, by the way, provide you a decent life. Not like…»

«What ‘not like’?» Pasha jumped up. «Finish it! Not like Mom, right? Who worked three jobs so I could go to a decent school? Who stayed up nights when I was sick? Who… who was JUST THERE?!»

«What do you understand!» his father raised his voice. «You think it was easy to drop everything and start from scratch? I had to realize myself, become successful…»

«For whom?» Pasha quietly asked. «For your new family? For these twins? And me, just an add-on? ‘Here’s some pocket money’—and leave me alone?»

Matvey turned red: «You know what… if you don’t like it here—there’s the door!»

«Then I’ll leave!»

«Go back to your pauper!»

Dead silence hung in the air. Pasha slowly raised his eyes to his father: «What did you say?»

«I…» Matvey faltered, but it was too late.

«So, that’s how it is,» Pasha said very calmly. «I understand everything. Thanks, Dad. Thanks for the lesson.»

He began packing his things. His hands trembled, but his movements were clear, decisive. He threw the essentials into a bag, the rest—forget it. Computer? Don’t need it. iPhone? Let him choke on it.

«Pash, what are you doing…» his father paced nearby. «We got heated, it happens to everyone…»

«It happens, Dad. Everything happens. Only you know… Mom would never call you a pauper. Because she’s a person. And you… you’re just a wallet on legs.»

He slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out, carefully closing the door behind him. In the hallway, he bumped into Marina.

«Where are you going?» she squinted at him.

«Home,» he replied. «To Mom.»

And for the first time in a long time, he felt… right. As if a huge stone had fallen from his soul.

Pasha reached home after dark. He opened the door with his old, worn key, which he had carried in his pocket all these months. He stood in the dark hallway, inhaling the familiar smell: Mom’s perfume, cinnamon (she always loved to bake cinnamon rolls), some flowers on the windowsill…

He turned on the light, looked around. The apartment was unusually clean and… cozy? He hadn’t noticed it before. New paintings hung on the walls—small, but nice landscapes. On the coffee table—a stack of psychology books. Mom hadn’t wasted her time.

His room was untouched. Only neatly tidied and aired—Mom had checked in, making sure no dust had settled. On the desk—a photo in a frame: him as a little boy, laughing, sitting on Mom’s shoulders. Both so happy…

Pasha took out his phone, called Aunt Svetlana: «And Mom… when will they discharge her?»

«In a couple of days,» she replied. «You came back?»

«Yes. For good.»

They were silent on the phone, then Aunt Svetlana softly said: «Well done, Pasha. You did the right thing.»

The next few days he spent bustling around. Cleaned the apartment, laundered the curtains, fixed the kitchen faucet (he had been meaning to, but never got around to it). Went to the store, stocked up on groceries—Mom loves homemade food, no semi-finished products. Even started cooking, remembering Mom’s lessons.

When she returned from the hospital—thinner, but already stronger—he greeted her with a laid table and a pie. True, slightly burnt, but that’s details.

«Pash,» was all she said, looking around the apartment. «You…»

«Mom,» he interrupted. «Let’s agree: I’ll never leave again, and you’ll never cry again. Deal?»

She nodded, blinking rapidly.

Life began to improve. Pasha tackled his studies—turned out, he had fallen far behind while living with his father. But no matter, he’d catch up. Mom helped, explained the unclear. And on weekends, they now often went out together: to the theater, to the park, just walking around the city. Talked about everything under the sun.

«You know, Mom,» he said once, «I just realized: you always tried to make me better. And Dad… he just bought his way out.»

Mom stroked his hand: «Don’t judge him harshly. He just… doesn’t know any other way.»

Dad tried calling, invited him back. Promised a new computer, a trip abroad… Pasha politely declined. Returned the pocket money by transfer—didn’t need it.

A year later, a miracle happened: Mom was promoted at work. Now she became the head of the department, the salary increased. They even managed to renovate the apartment—small, but tasteful. Pasha himself chose the wallpaper for his room.

Five years passed. Pasha graduated from high school, enrolled in university. Met Alyonka—a funny redhead girl with freckles. Fell in love so hard his head spun. Introduced her to Mom first thing.

«Just look at them,» Alyonka whispered once, watching Pasha and his mom cook dinner together. «They’re so… family.»

And at the wedding—small, but very warm—Mom danced and laughed like a girl. She had blossomed over the years, bloomed. Even got remarried—to a good man, Pasha’s university teacher.

Dad came to the wedding with his latest wife (he and Marina had divorced) and lingered at the entrance, unsure how to act. Eventually, he approached his ex: «Laris… you… well done. Raised the boy.»

«We raised him,» she corrected softly. «Together. Just each in our own way.»

… A year later, Pasha’s daughter was born. When he first held her, so tiny, defenseless, he suddenly understood: this is what matters. Not money, not status, not expensive toys. But love. Simple, pure, selfless. Just like Mom’s.

«Mom,» he said when they brought the baby home, «thank you. For everything.»

«For what, son?»

«For teaching me the most important thing,» he hugged his daughter close. «To love.»

Mom smiled and stroked his cheek—just like in childhood: «I’m just your mom. And I’ll always be there.»

In the butcher shop, a pleasant aroma of spices and fresh meat filled the air, which Natalya was most proud of. She always chose the best so that customers would return. It was a busy December day, and people bustled about—some buying meat for dinner, others arguing about prices.

As Natalya arranged fresh cuts on display, she noticed a little girl standing at the door, looking inside with a lost expression. The girl appeared modest: her scarf was twisted several times, and her old jacket seemed too thin for such a winter. She clutched a small bag tightly in her hands.

Natalya paused for a second, then smiled:

«Girl, come in! Why are you standing at the door? It’s cold.»

The girl hesitantly crossed the threshold. The queue in the shop stirred impatiently, someone grunted:

«Letting children in, too. She’ll be in the way.»

Natalya glanced at the grumbling man:

«It’s okay, you can wait a bit.»

The girl approached closer and, shyly, reached towards the counter.

«Auntie, may I ask you something?» she whispered barely audibly.

Natalya crouched down to be on her level:

«Of course, dear. What happened?»

The girl lowered her head slightly, but then gathered her courage and spoke:

«I have a neighbor. An old grandma. She feeds her cats, but she hardly eats herself. Maybe you have something for the cats? So she can buy herself some food.»

The shop fell silent. People stopped sifting through goods and looking at prices, just listening. Some shook their heads, others sighed sympathetically.

«How does she not eat?» Natalya frowned.

«I’ve seen it. She has kefir and a piece of bread in her fridge. But she feeds the cats every day,» the girl fidgeted with the edge of her jacket. «They’re like family to her.»

Natalya bit her lip. It sounded both strange and painful.

«Okay,» she softly replied. «Wait a minute.»

The girl nodded and stepped aside. Natalya took a bag and quickly started packing trimmings and bones into it. Then she took out a piece of good beef and added it on top.

«Here, this is for the cats,» she handed the bag to the girl.

The girl froze, looking at the bag:

«Really? Thank you, auntie!»

«And tomorrow I’ll visit your grandma myself. I want to talk to her,» added Natalya.

The girl smiled broadly, then quietly said:

«She will be glad. Thank you.»

As the girl left, the shop buzzed again. One of the regular customers, an elderly man, shook his head:

«Children’s souls… How does she even care about that neighbor?»

As Natalya cleared the remaining goods, she thought:

«Not all adults would do what this little girl did. Need to help.»

The next morning, without delaying, Natalya went to the address the girl had given her. A small house stood slightly apart from the others, with a crooked fence and peeling paint on the windows. A ginger cat greeted her at the gate—apparently the local boss. He lazily lifted his head, assessed Natalya, decided she was no threat, and curled back up on the porch step.

Natalya knocked on the door.

«Who’s there?» a weak voice came from inside.

«It’s me, Natalya. From the butcher shop,» she called loudly, feeling a strange mix of sadness and warmth as the hoarse voice inside awakened.

The door creaked quietly, and a thin elderly woman in an old woolen shawl appeared on the threshold. Her face was worn but friendly.

«Oh, hello,» she said, slightly flustered, adjusting her shawl.

«Sorry, I didn’t order anything.»

«I’m not here for an order. I came to see you. May I come in?» Natalya smiled, trying not to embarrass the hostess.

The old lady hesitated, then stepped aside. Natalya entered the home. It was clean but modest. Simple furniture, a slightly sagged sofa, a table with a worn tablecloth. On the window sill, a cup with tea leaves and an open book. On the floor, as if on command, the cats gathered: the ginger from the porch, a gray one, and a tiny striped kitten.

«Here are my little tails,» the old lady said, looking at the cats with a gentle smile. «But why did you come?»

Natalya sat down on a chair, looking around the room.

«The girl next door told me how you feed your furry friends but barely drink tea yourself,» she said directly. «Is that true?»

The old lady blushed, clutching the corner of her shawl.

«Well… I don’t need much. But they… they need someone, and that’s me,» she murmured, looking down.

«But you need someone, too,» Natalya said quietly but firmly. «You also need to eat properly. You can’t live on cats alone.»

The old lady shrugged.

«What can I do… My pension is small. And I feel sorry for the cats. They’re all from the yard, all hungry. How can I abandon them?»

Natalya nodded, her heart aching from such simple, touching devotion.

«Let’s do this. I’ll leave you meat trimmings. For free. For the cats. And you spend your pension on yourself. At least a little. Agreed?» she proposed, looking straight into the hostess’s eyes.

The old lady was silent for a long time, then quietly replied:

«I don’t even know what to say…»

«Say ‘agreed,’» Natalya smiled, winking. «And that’s that.»

«Agreed,» the grandmother murmured, hiding her eyes, which glistened with tears.

«There we go,» Natalya stood up. «I’ll bring you the first package tomorrow. And no arguing,» she warned, seeing the old lady about to object.

At the threshold, the grandmother suddenly paused.

«Natalya, why are you doing this? After all… I’m nobody to you,» she asked, nervously fidgeting with the corner of her shawl.

«I just can. And, you know, you’re not exactly nobody to me now,» Natalya smiled, waved her hand, and left, feeling a strange but pleasant warmth spreading inside her.

Since they agreed, the grandmother’s life began to change. Natalya left her a small package of trimmings every week. It wasn’t a lot of money, but knowing she was helping warmed her soul. The grandmother always came for her «gift» on time—on the exact day, like clockwork. She always brought gratitude, and sometimes something of her own: a jar of jam, fresh eggs, or just a sincere smile.

«Here, Natalya, homemade raspberry jam. I made it myself, my grandchildren helped pick the berries last year,» she said once, handing over a jar.

«Oh, grandma, why? I have everything!» Natalya smiled but still took the treat.

«It’s not in return, Natasha. It’s from the heart,» the old lady replied, adjusting her shawl.

The cats also noticeably perked up. The ginger cat, who used to lazily doze on the porch, now, satiated and content, loudly purred when the grandmother set down a bowl of food. Their fur shone, and they no longer looked thin.

«Look at this handsome fellow!» Natalya, dropping by the grandmother’s, winked toward the cat. «I see you feed him well.»

«It’s you who feed him,» the grandmother laughed. «I just serve it.»

Natalya noticed how the grandmother’s face looked better. The wrinkles remained, but a blush appeared. The old lady no longer seemed so tired and sad as the first time.

«I made a meat soup,» the grandmother once boasted, looking into the shop.

«That’s wonderful,» Natalya approved. «Always do that now.»

Gradually, the grandmother began to visit not just for trimmings. She stayed to chat. Natalya caught herself thinking that she enjoyed these conversations herself.

«Do you have children?» the grandmother asked once.

«No, grandma, it didn’t work out,» Natalya replied, pondering whether to continue. «But, you know, I always dreamed of a big family. Maybe it will still happen.»

The grandmother smiled, stroking her woolen shawl.

«Everything will be alright for you, Natasha. You’re a kind person. It will all come back to you.»

By New Year’s, Natalya decided to make the grandmother a small gift. Instead of the usual trimmings, she brought her a whole piece of good meat.

«This is for you. For the festive table,» she said, handing over the package.

«Natasha, what are you doing! I can’t take this,» the grandmother protested, shaking her head.

«Grandma, don’t upset me. It’s a gift, understand?»

The grandmother hesitated for a long time, but seeing Natalya’s determination, she took the package.

«What a kind person you are,» she said quietly, wiping her eyes with the corner of her shawl.

These little things made both of them happier. Natalya was pleased to see the grandmother more cheerful. And the grandmother… the grandmother felt again that someone cared about her.

Sometimes small changes in someone’s life can create a big boomerang effect of goodness, returning with warm words and joy that fills the heart.

It was early morning when the grandmother, in her usual woolen shawl, entered the butcher shop. She had a bundle wrapped in clean white fabric in her hands. Natalya was behind the counter, arranging fresh cuts of meat, and immediately noticed her.

«Grandma Valya, why are you so early?» Natalya looked at her in surprise.

«I brought you something. I want to say thank you,» she replied, placing the bundle on the counter. It smelled of fresh baking.

«Oh, grandma, you shouldn’t have!» Natalya waved her hands, but the old lady smiled and nodded, as if unwilling to hear objections.

«It’s from the heart. The pie is still warm, try it. And here’s jam, raspberry. Maybe your children will be delighted.»

Natalya smiled, looking at the grandmother. She always marveled at how much warmth could exist in such a fragile person. Accepting the treat, she placed it on the table next to her.

«Thank you, grandma. But, you know, you’ve already repaid me. With your smiles and by taking care of yourself.»

Grandma Valya was embarrassed, adjusting the corner of her shawl.

«You’ve done so much good for me, I can’t not thank you.»

«Well, then we agree. The pie is for your care of yourself. Deal?» Natalya squinted mischievously.

«Deal,» the grandmother nodded, laughing. Her laughter was quiet, but so genuine that Natalya involuntarily smiled in response.

From that moment, their meetings became regular. Grandma Valya increasingly visited not just for meat, but simply to talk. Natalya, noticing that the old lady looked refreshed, realized that their interaction was beneficial not only to herself but also to the grandmother.

«Natasha, imagine, I made borscht the other day, so tasty! The cats almost knocked over the pot, thinking it was for them,» the grandmother laughed, telling her story.

«What do you expect, grandma? You got them hooked on meat! Now they’re after the soup,» joked Natalya.

Their conversations filled her day with warmth. And it seemed that even other customers, standing in line, began to smile, listening to them.

In late December, Natalya decided to prepare a surprise. She not only prepared the usual package of trimmings for the grandmother but also added a piece of pork, a couple of chicken drumsticks, and a packet of flour.

When the grandmother saw this, she was flustered.

«Natasha, what are you doing? There’s so much here… Why?»

«It’s almost New Year, grandma. You have to meet it with treats,» Natalya replied, handing over the package.

«You… I…,» the grandmother even teared up. «Now it’s not just New Year for me, it’s a whole feast. Thank you, dear.»

As the grandmother left, Natalya watched her for a long time, feeling her heart filled with warmth. She remembered how it all started with one little girl asking for food for cats. And now, this help had turned into friendship.

One day, Natalya brought the grandmother a new surprise: a photo album and a pack of colored paper.

«What’s this?» the grandmother was surprised.

«I wanted to suggest you try crafts. I saw how it engages children in kindergarten. And I think you can do it just as well,» said Natalya.

«Why?» the old lady wondered, holding the album close to her chest.

«For joy. For yourself, and to show the neighbors that a person lives not by soup alone,» Natalya winked.

Grandma Valya agreed with a smile. A week later, she brought her first crafts to the shop: bright cards decorated with paper flowers. Natalya admired them with amazement.

«Grandma, you’re a master!» she exclaimed. «Maybe you should start a club?»

«Oh, stop it,» the grandmother shyly waved her hand. «I just wanted to thank you for everything.»

Natalya, looking at the grandmother, felt that even such small things could change lives. And perhaps, not just one.

Kirill sat in his office, surrounded by various awards and certificates from the city and region, symbolizing his success and always reminding him of his achievements. Outside, it was getting dark, and the light from car headlights reflected off the glass showcases of the stores he owned. At his age, many are still searching for themselves, but Kirill, at 30, was already a successful businessman.

Besides the stores, the man owned a charitable foundation that helped children. His favorite work brought him pleasure. Although Kirill had no family, he did not feel lonely.

In the orphanage, they nicknamed him «the kind one.» Kirill himself was a graduate of this orphanage. As a child, he ended up in the orphanage where they didn’t always have nice gifts or sweets for holidays. This required investors, but it wasn’t always possible to find them. And so, after graduating from the orphanage and getting on his feet, he began to help children who ended up there through no fault of their own.

One day, when Kirill visited the orphanage again, the educators greeted the man with joy, but the atmosphere was oddly quiet, unlike usual. His attention was drawn to a girl he had not seen before, quietly playing at a table while the other children seemed to avoid her.

«Daddy, daddy, you’ve returned!» the girl shouted, seeing Kirill.

The man froze in surprise. The children had never called him that before. The educators were also confused. However, the girl knew Kirill’s name. Every child in the orphanage knew of the man, but she was new, and this was their first meeting.

«Sorry, she’s new and hasn’t settled in yet,» said one of the educators. But Kirill wasn’t listening to her; his mind was blank.

The girl paid no attention to the adults’ confusion. She continued to reach for Kirill, adding, «Mom told me you would come back. When are we going to see Mom?»

Kirill had not felt such a mix of concern and anxiety for a long time. He was curious why this girl specifically had thrown herself at him while the other children showed no such interest. Normally, all the children would run to him as soon as they saw him at the door.

«Are you sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?» asked Kirill, trying to hide his agitation.

The girl just shrugged, unsure how to explain the situation: «Yes, of course, Mom always told me about you, that you’re a good person and you’d come back for me.»

He couldn’t just leave. Kirill was curious about who this girl was and how she ended up in the orphanage. This was a first for him.

A few days later, when his emotions had calmed down, the man decided to visit the orphanage again. He couldn’t stop thinking about this girl.

The head of the orphanage told him that the girl’s name was Anya. She was introverted and didn’t talk much with other children. She didn’t say much about her family. Her mother had placed her in the orphanage, claiming she was very ill and no one would be able to look after the child if something happened to her. Anya had no other relatives or close people.

«By the way, it might seem strange, but her middle name is Kirillovna. But it might just be a coincidence.»

«Could it really be a coincidence?» Kirill wondered. He didn’t know what to do. It seemed a mature man who had built not just one company and was in good financial standing could not be thrown off by meeting a little girl.

Upon obtaining documents, it turned out that the girl had been brought directly from the hospital where her mother was lying. Being in the ward, she had written a refusal to keep her child. Kirill took the address of the hospital and went there.

Entering the chief doctor’s office, Kirill explained the entire situation. He asked about the woman who had given up her child. Petr Sergeevich recalled this woman and said that she was no longer alive. Her disease was at a very severe stage, and they couldn’t help her. The doctor handed over copies of this woman’s documents and said he couldn’t help further.

The woman in the passport photo seemed familiar…

On the way home, small fragments of that meeting in the club began to surface. Dasha was sitting in a corner, quiet and modest. She wasn’t like the club girls who usually threw themselves at Kirill, knowing about his status and that he was single. Kirill himself approached the girl for an introduction, which was an unusual step for him. They quickly found a common language, and their communication was easy. Daria didn’t even know who Kirill was and was unaware of his financial status.

They got closer, and one day Daria stayed the night at Kirill’s. The next day, Kirill urgently had to fly to another city for work. He was gone for several months, and he had forgotten about Dasha, as there were always many women around him. He was quite the ladies’ man and never took fleeting relationships seriously.

«Could this really be my daughter, but we only had one night together with Dasha…» These thoughts haunted him. «Why didn’t she call, why didn’t she tell me?» He would never get an answer to these questions.

The next day, Kirill went to the hospital again to talk to the nurses who had seen Dasha every shift.

There, he found one woman who was closer to Daria than anyone. She told him that the girl was incredibly strong despite her illness. She wanted only one thing — to survive for her daughter’s sake. But when she began to feel herself fading, she decided to leave her child at the orphanage.

She was sure that the girl’s father would find her. Apparently, she knew something.

«If Dasha found out who I am, then why didn’t she sue for child support? Why didn’t she ask for help? After all, by giving the child specifically to this orphanage, she knew I would eventually show up there.» — Kirill asked himself these questions but couldn’t find an answer.

Returning to the office, Kirill began gathering information about Dasha and Anya. Having connections in different structures, he found out that the girl was registered as a single mother. The child had no father from birth. Daria had no parents either. Everything seemed extremely strange.

To dispel doubts and close this topic, Kirill decided to do a DNA test with this girl. The result showed a 94% match. Now he knew for sure that this was his child, and Anya was not mistaken.

Kirill had many thoughts — joy, anxiety, worry. He knew that his life would never be the same as it was before. Kirill knew what it was like to live without parents.

The man was ready for almost anything, but not for the appearance of a child he had never suspected. He went back to the orphanage to see and talk to the child. He remembered the moment when she first screamed «daddy, daddy.»

Entering the children’s room, Anya sat on the bed, thoughtfully looking out the window. She wasn’t waiting for him.

Kirill approached the girl and placed his hand on her shoulder.

«You came back. Will you take me home this time? Just don’t say Mom didn’t tell you anything. You were supposed to take me. Mom couldn’t have lied to me.» — the girl said with less joy, as if knowing that Kirill wouldn’t take her.

«Hello, sweetie. This time I’ll take you home, don’t worry. Mom told me everything.»

For the first time, the girl hugged her father. This was her last hope for a happy life.

After years of struggling with infertility, we decided to adopt a charming 3-year-old named Sam, who had captivating ocean-blue eyes. However, an unexpected turn of events occurred when my husband, while preparing to bathe Sam, suddenly burst out of the bathroom, exclaiming, «We have to take him back!» His reaction baffled me until I noticed an unusual mark on Sam’s foot. What I thought would be a joyous addition to our family ended up exposing deep fissures in our marriage. Reflecting on it now, I understand that some blessings are cloaked in sorrow, and life’s timing can be oddly ironic.

«Feeling anxious?» I inquired as we drove to the adoption agency.

I fiddled with the small blue sweater I had purchased for Sam, our soon-to-be son. The material felt extraordinarily soft under my touch, and I pictured him wearing it.

«Anxious? No,» Mark responded, although his grip on the steering wheel betrayed his tension. «I just want to get there already. This traffic isn’t helping.»

He tapped rhythmically on the dashboard, a habit that had become more pronounced recently.

«You’ve double-checked the car seat multiple times,» he said with a half-hearted laugh. «Looks like you’re the one who’s anxious.»

«I am,» I admitted, smoothing out the sweater again. «We’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.»

The adoption process had been exhaustive, primarily managed by me while Mark concentrated on his business. The endless paperwork, home evaluations, and interviews had consumed countless months. Initially, we aimed to adopt a baby, but facing long waitlists, we broadened our search.

That was when I stumbled upon Sam’s photo—a three-year-old with a smile bright enough to melt hearts and eyes that mirrored the clear summer sky.

His mother had left him, and something about his melancholic smile touched me deeply—perhaps it was destiny.

«Look at this little one,» I showed Mark the photo on my tablet one evening. The soft blue light washed over his face as he peered at it.

His tender smile told me he was as taken with Sam as I was. «He seems wonderful. Those eyes are remarkable.»

«But are we ready for a toddler?»

«We’re more than ready. No matter the child’s age, I know you’ll be an amazing mother,» he reassured me, squeezing my shoulder as we gazed at the photo together.

We proceeded with the adoption, and after an agonizing wait, the day came to bring Sam home. At the agency, Ms. Chen, the social worker, led us to where Sam was playing in a small room, intently building a tower with blocks.

«Sam,» she said gently, «do you remember the nice couple we told you about? They’re here to see you.»
I crouched beside him, my heart pounding with excitement. «Hello, Sam. That’s a fantastic tower you’re building. May I join in?»

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before nodding and passing me a red block. His small act of trust felt monumental, like the dawn of a new chapter in our lives. The ride home was serene. Sam held tightly to a plush elephant we’d given him, occasionally emitting little trumpet sounds that made Mark laugh softly. I glanced back at him in his car seat, overwhelmed by the reality of his presence.

Once home, I began to unpack the modest bundle of Sam’s belongings. His duffle bag was deceptively light, as if it were hard to believe it held a child’s entire world.

“I’ll bathe him,” Mark suggested from the doorway, a tentative offer in his voice. “You can take your time setting up his room just right.” “Perfect!” I responded, grateful for his initiative. “Oh, and use the bath toys we got for him.”

They headed toward the bathroom, and I hummed softly while organizing Sam’s new clothes. Placing each small sock and shirt into the dresser made everything feel incredibly real. But this tranquil moment was abruptly shattered.

“WE NEED TO TAKE HIM BACK!”

Mark’s outcry stunned me. Rushing into the hallway, I saw Mark, pale as a ghost.

“What do you mean, take him back?” I stammered, clutching the doorframe for support. “We can’t just return him like a mismatched pair of shoes!”

Mark paced back and forth, his hands weaving through his hair, his breaths short and uneven. “I realized…I can’t see him as my son. This was a mistake.”

“How can you say that?” My voice broke with emotion. “You were just laughing with him, making those elephant sounds!”

“It’s just hitting me now—I can’t connect with him,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze, his hands shaking.

“You’re being cruel!” I exclaimed, pushing past him to the bathroom.

Inside, Sam looked vulnerable and perplexed, clutching his elephant tightly to his chest while sitting in the tub, still fully clothed except for his socks and shoes. “Hey there, champ,” I managed to say cheerfully, my heart sinking. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? Does Mr. Elephant want to join?”

Sam shook his head. “He doesn’t like the water.”

“That’s alright. He can stay dry here,” I reassured him, placing the toy on the counter. “Let’s lift those arms up, buddy.”

As I helped Sam out of his clothes, I froze. There, on his left foot, was a distinct birthmark. It was uncannily similar to one I had seen countless times on Mark’s foot during our summer pool days—a unique mark in the same exact place.
My hands shook as I gently washed Sam, my thoughts swirling in a tumult of disbelief and suspicion.

«You’ve got magic bubbles,» Sam observed, his finger dancing through the foam that I had absentmindedly squirted into the bath.

«They’re extra special today,» I replied absently, watching him splash. His innocent smile, once just his, now seemed to carry traces of my husband’s.

Later that evening, after settling Sam into his new bed, I approached Mark in our room. The space between us on our large bed felt like miles.

«Sam’s birthmark—it’s identical to yours.»

Mark paused, his watch in hand, and let out a strained chuckle that sounded more like shattering glass. «It’s just a coincidence. Lots of people have birthmarks.»

«I think we should get a DNA test,» I insisted.

«That’s absurd,» he retorted, turning away sharply. «You’re overthinking because of the stress.»

However, his dismissive attitude only deepened my suspicions. The next day, while Mark was at work, I collected a few strands of his hair and a cheek swab from Sam. I told Sam it was to check for cavities.

The waiting period was torturous. Mark became more withdrawn, often staying late at work, while Sam and I bonded deeply. He started to call me «Mama,» which filled me with both joy and a heartbreaking sense of foreboding.

We settled into a cozy routine of morning pancakes, bedtime stories, and afternoons spent collecting treasures—leaves and shiny rocks—during our walks to the park.

When the DNA results finally came, confirming my fears, I was devastated. Mark was indeed Sam’s biological father. I confronted Mark with the evidence one evening.

«It was just one night,» he confessed, broken. «I was drunk at a conference. It never occurred to me… I never even knew her name.»

«And you never thought to mention it?» My voice was icy. «Even as I struggled with infertility treatments, each failure breaking my heart?»

The next day, I met with a lawyer named Janet. She was sympathetic and confirmed that as Sam’s legal adoptive mother, I had full parental rights.

That evening, I told Mark, «I’m filing for divorce and seeking full custody of Sam.»

«Please, Amanda—»

«I need honesty, Mark, not pleas. You chose to hide the truth.»

He didn’t contest the divorce, and it proceeded swiftly. Sam, for his part, adapted better than I expected, though he occasionally asked about his dad.

I reassured him, «Sometimes adults make mistakes, but it doesn’t mean they don’t love you.»

Over the years, Mark remained distant, sending only birthday cards and the occasional email. People often asked if I regretted my decision to keep Sam. I never did.

Sam was no longer just an adopted child; he was my son. Despite the betrayals and the complexities, I had chosen to love him unconditionally, a commitment I promised never to break—except perhaps to his future spouse.