All Amazing Babies

This story begins with an ordinary celebration that turned into a fateful event. Sometimes a single careless remark can completely change people’s lives. What will happen to someone who publicly humiliates another person, only to discover the truth afterward? I invite you to dive into this gripping story with an unexpected ending.

It was one of those evenings when time seems to stand still. A long table, draped in a pristine white tablecloth, groaned under the weight of exquisite dishes. The air was filled with the aromas of rare wines and fine cigars. The guests were in high spirits—laughter, the clink of glasses, lively conversations. And I felt like an alien in the midst of this glittering crowd.

This day was supposed to be special—our first wedding anniversary. I had dreamed of a tender celebration for just the two of us, but my husband decided to host a grand party. Colleagues, partners, friends—all these people, strangers to such an intimate occasion, filled our space.

Vladislav, my husband, was in his element. Tall, self-assured, in a flawless suit—he practically radiated success. Beside him, I increasingly felt like a dull accessory to his image.

My black dress embodied classic style. Unlike the other women, adorned in bright outfits with expensive accessories, I had deliberately chosen minimalism. I was content with the simple pleasure of the moment. But Vlad saw things differently.

“Darling, why no jewelry today?” His question sounded like a provocation aimed at everyone present.
“Minimalism suits me,” I replied calmly.
“Oh, right, I forgot…” he said, smirking sarcastically and raising his glass. “My wife can’t afford such baubles. She’s very modest—one might say she’s living on the brink of poverty.”

A tense silence fell over the room. Some guests shifted uncomfortably, others laughed, assuming it was a joke. My face burned, and my heart tightened with humiliation.

But Vlad had no idea that his “poor” wife was actually the owner of the very company where he held a high position. He still saw me as the simple girl he had met a couple of years ago, never suspecting my real status.

“Let it be so,” I said impassively, taking a sip of wine and hiding the storm of emotions inside me. “If that’s your toast…”

His smug grin showed that he continued to underestimate me—the gentle, obedient wife who, in his mind, would never dare to speak up. But this evening would mark the beginning of the end of his illusions about me.

After his cutting remark, the rest of the night became an endless string of forced smiles and awkward pauses for me. The guests went on enjoying themselves, but I felt their curious eyes on me, waiting to see how I would react to the public insult. Naturally, no one rushed to the defense of Vlad’s “poor” wife—they belonged to his world.

I raised my glass, pretending to savor the drink. The wine burned my throat, but I had to stay composed. My revenge needed to be calculated and elegant, without a single misstep of emotion.

Amid the buzz of voices, Marina—the wife of one of my husband’s partners—approached me. Her face, unnaturally tight from cosmetic procedures, looked almost mask-like, and her lips were suspiciously perfect.

“How lucky you are,” she cooed sweetly, “to have such a successful husband. With him, you needn’t worry about anything, especially finances.”
My smile softened, but there was already a hint of the approaching storm in it.
“You’re absolutely right, Marina,” I replied. “Money stopped being an issue for me long ago. It solves all my problems for me.”
Her eyelashes fluttered in surprise. Before she could say anything else, Vlad appeared beside me. His overly demonstrative embrace drew everyone’s attention again.

“Exactly!” he laughed loudly, once again making sure everyone was listening. “My wife is a master of frugality! It’s her special talent!”
His fingers dug slightly into my shoulder. He was obviously enjoying the moment—his power over me. He always liked playing to the gallery, even if it meant belittling me.

I turned to him, meeting his gaze. The moment was perfect.
“Since we’re talking about money, darling,” I said softly yet confidently, “tell me, how are things at work? You recently got a promotion, right?”
He nodded, puzzled by the unexpected question.
“Of course—I’m one of the company’s key employees.”
I noticed several guests tense up, sensing the subtext. Vlad, however, remained unaware.

“How interesting,” I drawled, stepping back slightly. “So you must know exactly who owns the company where you work?”
A frown creased his forehead in confusion. Sensing danger, Marina quickly found an excuse to slip away.

“Of course I know,” he smirked, though a bit of his confidence began to waver. “Some ordinary holding company owned by investors… Why are you asking?”
I looked at him with mild surprise.
“Investors, you say?” I tilted my head slightly. “Oh, Vlad… You really know nothing about your employer, do you?”
A flicker of doubt crossed his eyes.
“What are you trying to say?”

I took a measured sip of wine, relishing the moment.
“I’m saying, darling, that the company where you so successfully work… belongs to me.”

Silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain. Guests stood frozen with their glasses in hand. Vlad stared at me as though he’d seen a ghost.

“You… you’re serious?” His voice trembled, though the tension on his face remained.
I didn’t rush to repeat myself. Let him digest the news. The guests stood rigidly—some squirming, already aware of the truth; others watching the unfolding drama with keen interest.

“Yes, dear, this isn’t a hallucination,” I said, setting my glass on the table. “I really do own the company where you hold that very important position.”
“No… This must be some kind of prank…” he tried to object, but his voice trailed off.
“I wish it were just a joke,” I shook my head. “But unfortunately for you, it’s reality.”

Vlad turned pale, glancing around at the faces in the room, hoping for some kind of support. But everyone remained silent—each person knew that neither connections nor status could help him now.

“This can’t be…” he whispered, taking a step back. “When… How did I not know?”
I inclined my head slightly, hiding a smile.
“Maybe because you never took any real interest in my life.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “All these years, while you played the hero, I was building my business. You never even bothered to ask what I do. In your eyes, I was just a pretty accessory.”

His expression twisted in incomprehension. For the first time in a long while, he was at a loss for words.

“You hid this on purpose?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, his voice tinged with accusation.
“Of course I did,” I replied, letting the silence draw out. “You wouldn’t have believed me anyway—you never thought I could be anything more than ‘the wife of a successful man.’”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice:
“This is your revenge for what happened tonight?”
“No, Vlad,” I said, looking directly at him. “This is simply the truth. A truth you’ve been avoiding for years.”

He tensed, realizing that the situation had spiraled out of his control. His public persona was crumbling before everyone’s eyes. The guests began to whisper among themselves, some hiding smirks behind their glasses.

“I don’t believe it…” he said, shaking his head as though trying to dispel an illusion.
“It’s easy to verify,” I shrugged. “Come by the office tomorrow—the secretary will confirm that I’m the general director.”

He froze, finally accepting reality.
“Now I understand why they always invited you to those closed meetings,” he muttered. “I thought you were just an assistant to some investor.”
“You assumed many things, Vlad,” I said, taking another sip of wine. “And now you’re paying the price for those assumptions.”

His face changed with each passing second—from astonishment to realization, then fear. For the first time in a very long while, he felt vulnerable, without his usual mask of confidence.

Vlad slowly sank onto the nearest chair, his fists unconsciously clenching. The guests stood still, sensing they were witnessing a pivotal moment that would transform not only this night but the rest of the life of my soon-to-be ex-husband. I had already made up my mind.

“All this time you were just playing me?” His voice was hoarse, stripped of its usual assurance.
I smiled—softly, almost gently.
“No, darling. I only allowed you to live in your world of illusions. It’s not that I hid the truth—you simply never wanted to see it. You never asked the right questions.”

His jaw tightened as he reined in his anger. He knew any show of aggression could now backfire on him. The dismissive remarks he used to fling at me so easily could now become a weapon against him.

“So what now?” he whispered, fear evident in his voice. “Are you going to throw me out?”
I turned the wineglass in my hands thoughtfully.
“Just fire you?” I echoed, leaning toward him. “That would be too ordinary—too simple an end for someone who’s worked so hard to climb the ladder. No, I want you to feel what it’s like to lose everything gradually, step by step.”

He gulped hard.
“You can’t…”
“Oh, but I can,” I smirked. “Didn’t you teach me yourself that power and money make anything possible? Now the roles are reversed.”

Someone coughed awkwardly, finally breaking the oppressive silence. The tension in the room was nearly unbearable, even for those on the sidelines.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” I announced, standing and smoothing the fabric of my dress. “Thank you all for coming.”

The guests quickly began saying their goodbyes, preferring to leave before the final act of this drama unfolded.

When the last of them had slipped out the door, Vlad remained, staring into space. Gone was the self-assured man; in his place was someone who had just lost control over his life.

I paused in the doorway.
“Tomorrow in the office, Vlad. We’ll have plenty of interesting topics to discuss.”

Without waiting for a response, I left him alone with his thoughts.

The next morning, I arrived at the office much earlier than usual. The secretary greeted me with her customary smile—she, like most of the staff, had always known my true position and maintained professional discretion. Entering my office, I felt a surge of energy—today began my new life, free from Vlad.

An hour later, the door opened quietly, and he walked in. The confidence he had the previous day had vanished, replaced by a palpable anxiety. He looked as though he hadn’t slept—his hair was disheveled, and his normally impeccable shirt seemed hastily thrown on.

“Have a seat,” I offered, gesturing toward the chair in front of my desk, but he remained standing.
“We need to talk,” he said in a hollow tone. “Lera—”
I raised my hand to stop him.
“Here and now, you’re not my husband, Vlad. You’re my employee.”

He froze, absorbing the blow of those words.

“So,” I continued, folding my hands on the desk, “after last night’s incident, your credibility within the company has taken a serious hit. Just think what your colleagues will say when they find out how you publicly insulted your wife—who turned out to be their boss?”

His fists clenched reflexively.
“So you’re firing me?”
“On the contrary,” I said, shaking my head. “That would be too quick and would let you save face. I’d rather you learn what it feels like to lose everything piece by piece.”

His jaw tightened.
“What’s your plan for revenge?”
“I’m transferring you to a regional branch with a lower position. No perks, no power. An ordinary schedule, an average salary. You’ll be working under the very people you once overlooked.”

His face twisted in anger.
“You have no right—”
“Oh, I do,” I said coolly. “I’ve already filed the paperwork.”

He exhaled shakily.
“We loved each other… How can you just destroy everything like this?”

I leaned forward, meeting his eyes.
“You destroyed it yourself when you turned me into a decorative piece without dignity. Now you’re simply reaping the consequences of your actions.”

He fell silent, lowering his gaze. For the first time, I saw him truly humbled—no arrogance, only the grim understanding of his own mistakes.

“Let’s end this conversation, Vlad,” I said, standing up. “I’m no longer your wife. And you’re no longer the man I once made plans with. And thank you for the prenuptial agreement—it will make our separation swift and simple.”

Without looking back, I left the office. This was the day not only of my triumph but of long-awaited freedom.

Margo was staring intently at the door. The day had come when she could settle scores with her husband.

Her eyes gleamed with a malevolent fire. How long she had waited for this day… A whole 2 years.

Finally, she heard the sound of the door opening, and her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.

On the bed lay her belongings, piled up, next to which was a bag where she was supposed to pack everything.

A woman in uniform entered the room.

«Time to leave, Margosha!» Margo got up, quickly packed her things, and then hurriedly left her cell.

«What, can’t wait to meet with your lover?» sneered the guard, who followed her.

Margo said nothing. She walked with her head held high. She no longer cared what was said behind her back. She had endured enough trials, but now she was ready to settle scores with her abusers.

She looked forward, but events from three years ago flashed before her eyes.

Margo and Grisha were successful businessmen. When they got married, things immediately started looking up.

Success not only turned their heads but also brought discord into their family life. Margo knew all about her husband’s affairs, but for the sake of a successful business, she endured everything.

It hurt, but she still remembered her husband as he was when they first met. Back then, they were simple people, in love with each other. But over the years, that love had faded, giving way to habit.

Margo trusted her husband. She signed all the documents he presented her without looking. It turned out that this played against her. Her successful and happy life disappeared in one day.

That day, she was accused of major fraud and hiding money. And she ended up in jail. Her own husband framed her, presenting forged documents.

The trial was brief. Her husband testified against her. She was not provided with a good lawyer. She couldn’t find one herself. Most likely, her husband had bribed someone because the court quickly dismissed the case, pinning all the blame on her.

She was sentenced to 5 years. In prison, over two years, she remade herself. Now she was no longer the frightened girl who couldn’t stand up for herself. She had now cultivated a strength within herself.

For her good behavior, she was released early, and now she craved revenge.

And Grisha was the main character she had to show her new «self» to. Margo thought about all this while her belongings were handed to her.

«Good luck, beauty!» the guard slapped her on the shoulder. When Margo was outside the prison gates, she couldn’t take a single step. Fear seized her again. For two whole years, she had nurtured a plan for revenge, and now she was afraid she might not be able to carry out what she so desired. She stood there for about five minutes, then saw a familiar figure approaching her.

Her body immediately relaxed. Thank God, he was here. She ran to meet him. He quickened his pace too. A few moments later, they met, and the man embraced her.

«Margo, I can’t believe this moment has come.»

Margo buried her face in his neck, nervously laughing. But he had been waiting for this moment no less than she had. It was Artem, her husband’s friend.

Right after she was put in jail, he began visiting her. He believed in her innocence and knew that Grisha was not as innocent as he seemed. Here, Artem’s long-standing affection for Margo played a significant role. However, he never spoke of his feelings, only confessing to Margo a year after his visits.

By then, Margo felt more than just gratitude towards Artem. They fell in love, her in jail, him in freedom. Now nothing could stop these lovers.

«I was afraid you wouldn’t come for me,» the woman whispered.

The man squeezed her tighter in his arms. «How could I leave you? I will never let you go again.»

Margo inhaled his scent and sighed contentedly. When she was in jail, she started to find out interesting things with Artem’s help.

Artem was a close friend of Grisha’s, and he knew some details of his schemes. Artem told her that all this was orchestrated by Grisha because of his mistress, who wanted to take part of the business that belonged to Margo.

With her help, her husband thought through and executed his dirty deeds. When Margo learned about this, she promised him revenge. And Artem helped her in this.

He often visited Margo and Grisha’s house. Her husband suspected nothing of any relationship between the two. He did not keep track of Margo’s condition in jail, so he didn’t know about Artem’s visits.

After the trial, he divorced Margo, and now he didn’t care about her fate.

«Let’s get out of here. I want to take a shower after these walls. I feel like I reek of this rotten prison smell.»

Margo wrinkled her nose. Artem laughed:

«What are you talking about? You smell better than any woman in the world.»

He kissed her on the forehead and loosened his arms, releasing her from his embrace.

Margo laughed, relishing the sound of her own laughter in the open air. Now fate was in her hands. She could laugh whenever she wanted. Not fearing the angry yells of the mean guard.

They took each other’s hands and walked to the car parked nearby. Margo dreamed of a hot shower and a cup of coffee. After a while, she already sat in a chair at Artem’s house.

Her hair was damp. She wrapped herself in a terry robe, holding a mug of coffee in her hands. She savored the first sip, then blissfully closed her eyes. When the coffee was drunk, she resolutely placed the cup on the coffee table and said:

«Now I want you to show me those documents. I need to make sure everything went as we dreamed.» Margo impatiently clenched her fists.

Artem looked at her intently. This woman had driven him crazy for a long time. He had kept his feelings inside for years. His sister worked at Margo and Grisha’s company, so he not only often visited their home but also stopped by at work.

He told everyone he wanted to see his sister. In reality, he needed Margo. He adored watching her in a business suit with documents in her hands.

She caused a tremor in him that no other woman could cause in his entire life. And now Margo was sitting in his chair, wearing his robe. Wasn’t this true happiness?

He took out several documents from a small safe in the closet, carefully brought them to Margo, and handed them to her. Margo took them with a smile. She knew this was the end for Grisha.

It felt so good to hold his fate in her hands. She smiled at Artem again:

«Tell me in more detail how it all happened. I couldn’t ask you about the details in prison. Please, tell me.»

She took his hand and pulled him to the floor beside her. Artem smiled and began to tell:

«My little sister couldn’t refuse me. She also believed that you had nothing to do with it.

So I promised her that we would not leave her when everything happened. She is our accomplice, and we will take care of her.

I gave her these documents, which she had to slip in for a signature. At that moment, when I was in Grisha’s office, he was telling me about another mistress.

His mood was splendid. At that moment, the sister walked in. She slipped him a stack of papers, which he was supposed to sign.

He felt relaxed after you went to jail, and he no longer followed the company’s affairs as closely.

That’s when he signed all these documents without even reading them.»

Margo blissfully closed her eyes. Yes, now he would pay for all his schemes. He would fully pay for what he did to her life. She would make sure it hurt him.

She opened her eyes and looked at Artem. Fate had sent her this man. She had known him for years but never suspected his feelings. Love for Grisha had blinded her. Then the pain after his betrayal. Only after she was put in jail could she remove the blindfold from her eyes. And then she saw something in Artem’s eyes that made her feel an incredible tremor.

He had helped her so much. He betrayed a friend for a loved one, who hadn’t even promised him anything. She leaned towards Artem and hugged his neck, then whispered softly:

«I love you and want to be with you. When I finish everything, will you marry an ex-convict? I have no right to ask you this, but I need to know. I want to find out right now.»

Artem cupped her face in his hands.

«I will never leave you. I’ve dreamed of this for years. And you’re asking me? But if you want to hear a proposal from me, here it is. Will you marry me?»

Margo laughed:

«Yes, yes, yes.»

They merged in kisses, and then what they both had been waiting for so long happened.

The next day, Margo approached the tall building where the main office of the company was located.

She was wearing high heels. She felt confident, holding a folder with copies of the documents in her hands. She was ready for the meeting with her ex-husband.

When she entered the office, dead silence reigned. No one stopped her when she opened the door to Grisha’s office. She confidently entered and closed the door behind her.

Grisha was sitting at the desk, talking to someone on the phone:

«Yes, of course, I’ll pick you up in the evening, baby, you can tell me everything, I’ll call you when…»

Grisha fell silent mid-sentence when he saw Margo in the middle of the office. He turned pale, then silently hung up the phone. His face was a mix of fear and wild anger:

«What are you doing here and why were you let in here without permission?»

Margo smiled, then approached the desk. She sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and placed the folder with the documents on her lap.

«Probably because I’m also the owner here. Or maybe because everyone knows that you are the main fraudster here, not me.»

Grisha clenched his fists, his anger growing by the second:

«You know what, I don’t care what others think, especially you. You’re no longer my wife, and you’re nobody here.

I don’t want you here. Since you’re out of jail, kindly go your way. And don’t cross my path again, or I’ll lock you up again.»

Margo sweetly smiled, but her eyes were icy.

«You’re foolishly throwing me out. I have a surprise for you that won’t please you at all. Well, that’s fine. I’m ready to endure your rage because it will be justified.

You locked me away while enjoying all your women. And now it’s my turn. Now you’ll taste what you made me endure.»

Margo slowly opened the folder with the documents, pulled out a few papers, and placed them on the table in front of Grisha:

«Please review these documents. I warn you, you can destroy them, these are copies.

The originals are with my lawyer, who will represent my interests in court. Whatever you do now, it will all turn against you in the future. So I’m telling you right away, touch me with a finger, and you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars.»

Grisha frowned and took the documents in his hands. After examining them, he raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

«Is this some kind of joke?» Grisha stared at his ex-wife.

Margo leaned closer to the table and whispered:

«You taught me two years ago that there’s no room for jokes in this life. I’m a good student, right?» Several months later, Margo married Artem. Now she was the rightful owner of her company. She also took back her mansion from her ex-husband. And his expensive car passed to her.

Grisha was left with nothing. He disappeared from her life as if he had never existed. The court proved by all documents that he voluntarily wrote off all property and the company in favor of Margo.

This time, Margo won the victory and celebrated it already with her new husband, who helped her find herself again.

My aunt repeatedly warned: «Be careful with her.» I shrugged it off at the time, but now, when it comes to property issues, I realized that family ties are severed without the slightest regret.

Igor only managed to call late in the evening: «What were these talks between you and mom?» — «What did she manage to tell you?» I asked, preempting the version of events.

«She’s in tears!» His voice was steeped in anger. «Claims that you insulted her! Publicly humiliated her! After everything she’s done for us…»

«For us?» My voice broke, a lump rising in my throat. «Have you ever thought about what she has actually done for us? Besides trying to take the apartment away?»

«I forbid you to talk about mother like that!» Igor’s voice had a steel edge.

«And how should I then talk? When she looks for housing options behind my back? When she decides for us where to move?»

«She cares about the family! About us! And you…»

«What about me?»

«You only think about yourself!» he blurted out angrily. «Mom’s right — you’re selfish!»

I hung up the call. Just pressed the button, and silence fell over me like a blanket. I sat in a nearly empty cafe, staring out the window. The drizzling rain washed away the last colors of the day, people hurried about their business. And I had nowhere to go. Return to the rented room, where an angry Igor awaited? Or to my aunt’s apartment, where every corner reminded me of betrayal?

My legs carried me along a familiar path. Past the bakery, where it always smelled of fresh bread, through the square, where I spent weekends with my aunt. There it was, the house. Warm lights glowed in the windows — strange, since I had turned off all the lamps before leaving…

Deciding to check what was happening, I took out my keys. But they didn’t fit in the lock. The lock was different. Completely foreign.

From behind the door, I could hear children’s voices and the noise of moving furniture. I froze, feeling a chill spread through my body. Dishes clattered, and someone whined, «Mom, when are we going to the circus?»

Tolik. His three children. They were already here. In my aunt’s apartment.

Everything inside felt torn apart. The room where I spent hours doing homework. The kitchen where my aunt learned to bake pies. The old chair where she liked to rest after work… Now all this was foreign.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. My mother-in-law was calling.

«Lenochka,» her voice sounded almost affectionate, «see? I warned you — you’d regret it. You chose your path, now we’ll do it my way.»

«How…» My tongue wouldn’t obey. «How did you…»

«Very simple!» she suddenly yelled. «Thought you were the smartest? Gathering documents? We’ve already sorted everything out! Tolik sold his house in the village, he has nowhere to go. You wouldn’t throw out his wife and three children, would you?»

The sound of a door slamming echoed in the stairwell. Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs.

«Are you there?» Hysteria crept into my mother-in-law’s voice. «Sitting outside the door? I advise against making a scene — Tolik is a harsh man. Go home to your husband. One room is enough for you young ones now…»

I took out an old photo of my aunt — the one from the passageway. She was smiling, young, beautiful. Her lips seemed to move: «Be careful with her…»

Footsteps approached. Second floor. Third.

I jumped up and dashed down the stairs, not watching my step. From behind, a voice carried:

«Hey, where are you going?! What are you doing here?!»

But I had already burst into the yard, into the cold rain. I ran until my strength left me, just to get away from this house, from the foreign voices behind the door, from my aunt’s smile in the old photograph. In my mind, fragments spun: «Tolik sold the house… Nowhere to go… Can’t throw the children out onto the street…»

My phone vibrated again. It was Igor.

His photo appeared on the screen — a picture taken last summer at his aunt’s dacha. Back then, everything seemed simple and clear. We were a family. But now? Now I felt treacherously abandoned, as if I had been pushed out of the familiar world.

They had calculated everything. While I believed in justice and gathered documents, they acted. And there was nothing I could say: a sold house, three children, a pregnant wife… How could I deny people who had nowhere to live?

At the bus stop, darkness and emptiness reigned. I sat down on the cold bench, took out my phone. Notifications flashed: ten missed calls from Igor, three from my mother-in-law. And one message: «Lena, pick up the phone. We need to talk.»

Talk? About what? About how his mother cleverly pulled off a scam with the apartment? Or about how I am selfish, unwilling to share?

I took out a folder from my bag. Copies were collected, all that remained was to file a statement.

Tomorrow. Decisions can be taken tomorrow. But for now…

The phone rang again. This time I answered:

«Yes?»

«God, Lena!» Igor’s voice trembled. «Where are you? I’ve called the whole city, all the friends I could think of!»

«Ask your mother,» my voice echoed as if it were someone else’s. «Maybe she’ll explain what she’s done.»

«What she’s done? Lena, I’m completely confused! Mom’s crying, and you’ve disappeared…»

«Go to Gvardiyskaya,» I said, struggling to hold back tears. «To your aunt’s apartment. Just be aware — your uncle Tolik with the kids are living there now.»

Silence filled the line, accompanied by rustling and sighs.

«What… what do you mean they’re living there?» he finally managed to say.

«That’s what it means. New locks, their things. The kids are already asking when they’ll go to the circus. And this is apparently just the beginning of the show…»

«It can’t be…»

«It can,» my voice shook, and I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks. «She can do anything. Sold the house specifically to create a facade of desperation. Made up a pregnant wife so I couldn’t throw the children out on the street.»

The rain intensified, drumming on the bus stop roof. The lamplight spread across the glass in gray streams.

«Lena,» Igor’s voice became softer, almost a whisper. «Where are you now?»

«What difference does it make?» Bitterness constricted my throat. «I no longer have a home. Not my aunt’s, not ours.»

«What do you mean ‘ours’?»

«That’s what I mean,» the words burst out involuntarily. «Or do you think I can stay with a man whose mother took the last link to my aunt?»

Thunder rumbled nearby, causing me to flinch.

«Wait,» Igor spoke slowly, as if through great effort. «Where are you? I’ll come.»

«Why? To repeat how selfish I am? Or explain that mom did everything for the good of the family?»

«I knew nothing,» his voice broke. «I swear, I was completely unaware.»

«And what do you really know about your mother?» the question burst out on its own. «About how she ingratiated herself with my aunt for weeks? How she planned every step while I was busy with my own matters?»

A loud thump sounded through the line — it seemed Igor had hit the table with his fist.

«I’m going there. To Gvardiyskaya.»

«Don’t bother,» I exhaled. «You can’t fix anything now. Just… just leave me alone at least for today.»

«How can you say that?» his voice trembled. «Now? Alone?»

«Afraid I’ll take your rented room too?» A bitter smile twisted my face. «Don’t worry, I won’t show up there.»

«Stop…» his voice sounded bewildered. «Just tell me where you are. I’ll sort everything out.»

«Sort it out?» I snorted. «How exactly? Will you ask mom nicely to return the keys? Or try to persuade uncle Tolik to move out?»

«I know!» his voice was tense, almost a shout. «I know about the children, about the house… About everything!»

«You know?» I asked, and suddenly it struck me like a revelation. «So you knew? All this time you knew what they were planning?»

Silence on the other end spoke more eloquently than any words.

«So that’s it,» I said, feeling my lips go numb from betrayal. «Is that why you kept silent? Just waiting for them to sell the house?»

«Lena, it’s not like that…» he tried to justify.

«How then, Igor? How exactly?» my voice trembled. «Why did a husband, who swore to love and protect, allow his mother to just take and…»

My voice stuck in my throat, tears welling up.

«I didn’t know they’d change the locks!» he exclaimed, now pleading. «Thought they’d just apply a little pressure… You’d agree to a swap…»

«Pressure?» I didn’t recognize my own tone. «Is that what you call ‘a little pressure’?»

«Listen,» I said, wiping away tears, «tell your mother to prepare for court. And you’ll get served too — as a witness.»

«Lena…» he tried to object.

«And yes, you can stop looking for me,» I continued coldly. «I’m filing for divorce.»

I hung up and turned off the phone. In my bag lay a folder with apartment documents. Now it was clear: tomorrow the first thing to do was go to the lawyer. And then…

For the first time this crazy evening, I felt certain about how to move forward. Aunt would have approved of me. She always repeated: «Justice doesn’t come by itself — you have to fight for it.»

Closer to midnight, I called a friend:

«Marin, can I stay over at your place?»

She didn’t even ask any questions:

«Come over.»

In her kitchen, the calming aroma of chamomile tea filled the air. Marina silently placed a cup in front of me, pulled out a blanket:

«Want to talk?»

And I told her everything — from the first hint from my mother-in-law to today’s shock. About the locks, the children’s voices behind the door, my husband’s betrayal.

«Igor knew,» my voice still trembled. «He knew absolutely everything and kept silent. Waited while they sold the house so I’d have no choice.»

Marina thoughtfully stirred her tea:

«And the documents? You were almost done with the paperwork?»

«Almost,» I replied, pulling the folder from my bag. «Just needed to file the statement. But they knew the process would take time. If there were already children and a pregnant wife living there…»

«And now what?»

«To the lawyer,» I decided, taking a sip of cooled tea. «I’ll sue.»

«Your husband too?»

I nodded, unable to find the strength to speak. A lump formed in my throat.

«You know,» Marina began, moving closer, «maybe it’s for the best that everything came out this way?»

«What do you mean?»

«Imagine if you lived in that apartment. Daily visits from your mother-in-law, endless talks about her son… How long could you have endured that?»

I recalled the last two weeks of silence, during which my mother-in-law apparently waited, planning her move. My husband, pretending nothing was happening, though he knew everything in advance…

«My God,» I groaned, covering my face with my hands, «how could I have been so naive! Aunt warned me. And I always justified her: ‘She’s a good person, just had a tough life…’»

«Everyone has a tough life,» Marina noted, refilling my cup with fresh tea. «But not everyone solves their problems at the expense of others.»

«The worst part,» I admitted, looking at my friend, «is that I truly believed. Believed we were a family. That all those ‘mom’, ‘sweetheart’ were sincere.»

The phone vibrated again on the table. It was Igor.

«I won’t answer,» I turned to the window. «There’s nothing more to discuss.»

«And you’re right to do so,» Marina approved, handing me a small plate of cookies. «Tomorrow you’ll deal with all issues through the lawyer. And now — sleep. Tomorrow will be a tough day.»

The morning started with an unexpected call. The caller ID showed the name of Aunt Vera’s neighbor — Grandma Nyura:

«Lenochka, sweetheart, could you come over? Something’s happening here…»

I clenched the phone:

«What’s going on?»

«A truck has pulled up. They’re moving out all your furniture. I can see from the window — already half the apartment is gone. And she…» Grandma Nyura lowered her voice, «your mother-in-law is standing there, giving orders. Acting like the owner.»

My hands trembled treacherously:

«Have they completely lost their minds?»

«Don’t even say,» the neighbor sighed. «I wonder how Vera would have reacted… She lived here her whole life, loved every item…»

«I’m on my way.»

Marina, who was already getting ready for work, decisively grabbed her coat:

«I’m coming with you.»

«But you have an important meeting,» I reminded her.

«I’ll reschedule,» she replied, already dialing a number. «And I’ll call a lawyer I know. Have him join us.»

We drove in silence. Words were superfluous — they methodically destroyed everything that linked this apartment to its previous owners. To my aunt. To me.

At the entrance, a truck indeed stood. Two men carefully carried out my aunt’s old cabinet — the one where family photos were stored behind glass.

«Careful!» Nina Petrovna commanded. «All this goes to the country house. Tolik, are you keeping track of the list?»

I stepped forward:

«May I know what’s happening here?»

My mother-in-law turned around. Fear flickered on her face, but she quickly composed herself:

«Ah, you came! Wanted to take your trophies? Don’t worry, we’ll move everything out ourselves.»

«These aren’t my belongings,» my voice trembled. «These are my aunt’s things. In her apartment.»

«They were your aunt’s,» she sneered. «Now Tolik and his family live here. Old stuff just takes up space.»

«What right…» I began, but was interrupted.

«The right we have!» she suddenly raised her voice. «Thought you were smarter than everyone? We’ve already settled in here! And we’re staying!»

«But you didn’t account for one thing,» a calm male voice interrupted. It was Marina’s lawyer friend, appearing with a folder of documents. «You’re facing a lawsuit under Article 330 of the Criminal Code — willful misconduct.»

Nina Petrovna paled so much that the blue veins on her cheeks became visible:

«Who is this?»

«The representative of the lawful owner of the apartment,» he took out his phone. «I’m calling the police now. We’ll record the illegal entry into the dwelling and damage to property.»

Her confidence instantly evaporated. Hands that had confidently directed the movers now visibly shook.

«Police? On me?» her voice trembled.

It seemed the masks were dropped. My mother-in-law was ready to do anything to get the apartment. But now she faced a choice: continue illegal actions or try to find another way out of the situation. It remained to be hoped that the laws would prove stronger than her ambitions.

At my grandmother’s funeral, an unsettling moment caught my attention amid the grief. My mother, always poised and distant, subtly dropped a small, wrapped object into the casket. Driven by a mix of curiosity and suspicion, I later retrieved it, unaware that its contents would reveal profound family secrets that would echo through my life.

Grief, they say, can be unpredictable, but mine felt like navigating a hallway shrouded in shadow, unsure of each step. My grandmother, Eliza, was more than family; she was my anchor, my confidante. Her embraces were my sanctuary, her presence a steady comfort in my world. As I stood by her casket that day, a void opened inside me, profound and unsettling.

The funeral home was bathed in a subdued glow, casting soft shadows over Eliza’s serene expression. Her hair, silver and perfectly styled, framed her face, and her cherished pearl necklace lay around her neck, just as she liked it.

Memories cascaded through my mind as I touched the casket’s smooth surface. Only weeks ago, we had been in her kitchen, her laughter filling the room as she shared her secret recipe for sugar cookies.

«Emerald, darling, she’s still with you,» Mrs. Anderson, our neighbor, reassured me, her voice thick with emotion. «Eliza was so proud of her grandchild.»

A tear escaped as I recalled the apple pies we used to bake. «She could fill the whole street with that aroma. ‘Emerald’s got the magic touch with cinnamon,’ she’d boast.»

«I tried to make one last week,» I confessed, my voice faltering. «It just wasn’t the same without her. I even reached for the phone to call her for advice, and then… then the heart attack happened so suddenly…»

Mrs. Anderson enveloped me in an embrace, murmuring comfort. «She knew your love, dear. That’s what counts. And look around—she touched so many hearts.»

Indeed, the room was filled with murmurs of shared memories and quiet laughter, a testament to her impact. Yet there was my mother, Victoria, seemingly detached, checking her phone instead of mingling.

As we spoke, I watched my mother approach the casket discreetly. She quickly glanced around before slipping a package inside, then walked away with an air of finality that seemed out of place.

«Did you see that?» I whispered to Mrs. Anderson, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

«See what, dear?»

«Mom just…» My voice trailed off as I watched her retreat to the restroom. «It’s probably just the grief.»

Yet, a nagging feeling tugged at me. The relationship between Mom and Grandma had been strained, to say the least. It was unlike Grandma to request anything hidden away in her casket, especially without my knowing.

Something was not right, and I was determined to uncover the truth hidden within that mysterious package.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the light inside the funeral home took on a somber tone, stretching the shadows against the windows while the remaining mourners drifted away. The air was thick with the fragrance of lilies and roses, a poignant reminder of the day’s solemnity.

My mother had excused herself an hour earlier, citing a sudden migraine, but the memory of her actions earlier lingered uncomfortably in my mind.

«Ms. Emerald?» The soft voice of Mr. Peters, the funeral director, pulled me from my thoughts. He approached with a gentle demeanor that reminded me of my late grandfather. «Please, take your time here. I’ll be nearby in my office when you’re ready to leave.»

«Thank you, Mr. Peters.» I nodded, waiting for the echo of his footsteps to fade into the distance before I moved closer to the casket once more. The room, now quiet and devoid of guests, felt heavier, as if filled with the weight of untold stories and concealed truths.

Alone with my thoughts, my heartbeat seemed unnervingly loud in the silence. I leaned in to examine Grandma’s serene expression more closely.

Just peeking out from under the fold of her favorite blue dress—the one she had worn proudly at my college graduation—was the corner of an item wrapped in a matching blue cloth.

A battle of conscience waged within me, torn between respecting my mother’s privacy and upholding my grandmother’s dignity. Eventually, my commitment to safeguarding my grandmother’s legacy won over.

With shaky hands, I carefully retrieved the small package from beneath the dress and tucked it into my purse. «I’m sorry, Grandma,» I murmured, brushing a cold hand with my fingers. The light glinted off her wedding ring, reminding me of the warmth she always exuded. «But something feels wrong. You taught me to follow my instincts, didn’t you? You believed the truth was more important than comfort.»

Back at home, I settled into Grandma’s old reading chair—a piece she insisted I have when she downsized to her last apartment. The package rested on my lap, still wrapped in the handkerchief with the delicately embroidered «C» that I remembered watching her sew as a child, her stories from her youth echoing in my mind.

«What secrets are you hiding, Mom?» I whispered to myself as I began to untie the twine. A knot formed in my stomach as I unfolded the handkerchief to reveal a stack of letters, each addressed in Grandma’s unmistakable script with my mother’s name.

The first letter was dated three years back, its edges crisp despite evident signs of frequent handling:

«Victoria,

I’ve seen what you’ve been doing.

Did you think I wouldn’t notice the discrepancies in my accounts? Each month, small sums vanished, and while I wanted to believe there was a mistake, the truth was undeniable. You, my own child, have been siphoning from me to feed your gambling addiction.

Your addiction is tearing you—and our family—apart. I’ve attempted understanding and support, but you’ve met my concern with deceit, repeatedly so. Recall last Christmas? You promised reform; tears were shed, and promises made. Yet, within a week, $5,000 vanished. This isn’t to shame you but to express the pain of watching you self-destruct.

Please, let me help you—for real, this time.

Mom»

Trembling, I continued through the letters, each one unfolding more of the narrative I had never known, outlining a distressing portrait of deceit. The correspondence spanned years, morphing from worried admonitions to exasperated anger and finally to resigned sorrow.

One particular letter recalled a family dinner where Mom had convincingly claimed she’d quit gambling. I remembered her tearful assurance that night, the way she clung to Grandma in a seemingly heartfelt embrace. Now, the authenticity of that moment was in question—was it genuine, or merely another act in her ongoing deception?
Grandma’s Final Wish Revealed a Painful Truth:

«Victoria,

You’ve made your decisions, and I’ve made mine. Everything I have will be left to Emerald—the one person who truly loved me, not someone who saw me as a financial resource. You might think you’ve escaped the consequences, but the truth will surface eventually.

Remember when Emerald was young, and you accused me of favoritism? You claimed I loved her more than you. The truth is, I loved you both differently but equally. The difference? She loved me unconditionally, expecting nothing in return. I will always love you, but I can’t trust you.

Mom»

My hands trembled as I opened the final piece of correspondence. It was a letter from my mother to Grandma, penned just two days after Grandma had passed. The words were etched with forceful, angry lines:

«Mom,

Alright, you win. I confess—I took the money. You never understood the allure, the desperate need. But your clever little scheme won’t succeed. Emerald loves me. She’ll give me anything I ask for, even her inheritance. So I still come out on top. Maybe now you’ll finally stop trying to control everyone, even from beyond the grave. Goodbye.

Victoria»

That night, sleep was a stranger. I paced back and forth in my apartment, haunted by a freshly painted portrait of reality.

The overly lavish Christmas gifts. The numerous times Mom had asked to «borrow» my credit card for «emergencies.» All those seemingly casual talks about Grandma’s finances, veiled as filial concern.

“Have you spoken to Mom about getting power of attorney?” she had once inquired. “You know how forgetful she’s getting.”

“She seems alright to me,” was my naive reply. “Just thinking ahead, sweetheart. We need to protect her assets,” she’d countered.

My mother, driven by sheer greed, had betrayed not only my grandmother but now, potentially, me. By daybreak, my decision was clear. I dialed her number, maintaining composure:

«Mom, can we meet for coffee? There’s something important I need to give you.»

«What’s wrong, dear? You sound tired,» she responded with saccharine concern.

«It’s about Grandma. She left something for you. Said to give it to you ‘when the time was right.’» «Ah, really?» Her tone perked up. «Where should we meet?»

«How about that quiet coffee shop on Mill Street?»

«Perfect. You’re always so thoughtful, Emerald. I was never like that with my mom.»

Her words stung with irony. «See you at two, Mom.» I ended the call. The cafe’s bell chimed as my mother entered later that day, immediately spotting my purse.

Dressed in her sharp red blazer for significant occasions, she sat and reached for my hand. «You look worn out, sweetheart. This has been tough on you, hasn’t it? You and your grandmother were so close.»

I nodded, placing a wrapped bundle on the table. Inside were two letters—one from Grandma and another penned by myself. «What’s this?» she inquired, her nails slicing through the seal. Her face paled as she unfolded my message, her hands trembling.

The letter was blunt:

«Mom,

I have all the letters. If you ever try to manipulate me or lay claim to what Grandma left, the whole truth comes out. Everything.

Emerald»

«Emerald, I—»

I stood up before she could finish, seeing years of deception melting in her tears. «I love you, Mom. But that doesn’t mean you can manipulate me. You’ve lost my trust. Forever.»

With those final words, I left her alone with the crushing weight of her actions and the echo of Grandma’s enduring honesty. Some secrets, I realized, refuse to stay buried.

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.