The call from the notary caught Nastya completely by surprise. She barely had time to grasp what was happening when she heard the word «inheritance.» From her grandfather? The name—Pyotr Danilovich—evoked only vague memories in the girl, faint like the flicker of a distant flame. He was her father’s father, but after her parents’ divorce, contact with that side of the family was severed. Her mother quickly remarried, and Nastya’s life unfolded so that she had three men she could call fathers, yet with none of them did she manage to build a close relationship. The thought of an inheritance had never crossed her mind, especially from someone she hardly knew.
“Interesting why he left everything specifically to me?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion as she sat in the notary’s office. “We never communicated. I don’t even remember meeting him or visiting.”
The notary shrugged, implying he couldn’t answer that question.
“Apparently, there are simply no other relatives left,” he said shortly, without any emotion.
Stepping outside, Nastya couldn’t hold back tears. They streamed down her cheeks as if on their own because at that moment she felt how important this unexpected help was. Exactly now, when her life had completely fallen apart, when all support beneath her feet had disappeared, fate decided to remind her of itself in this strange way.
After Nastya came of age, her mother and stepfather seemed to decide they had spent enough time caring for her and it was time to live for themselves. They moved to some southern town, bought a cozy house, and began enjoying life, forgetting that somewhere there was their adult daughter who needed support. Nastya, unable to get a good education, couldn’t find a decent job. Life seemed like an endless maze with no way out.
At the upscale clothing store where she worked as a saleswoman, Nastya met Pasha. It seemed he truly fell in love with her. And she, having endured years of loneliness, despair, and uncertainty, also believed in love. His words were full of certainty:
“Quit that job,” he said almost immediately after they started dating. “My wife will never work as a sales clerk. If you get bored at home, we’ll find something more interesting.”
How easy it was to believe those promises! How much she wanted to believe that finally there was someone nearby who would be a support and protector! Nastya quit her job, moved in with him, sold her room—step by step giving up everything that could be a fallback option. They lived together for six months, and all that time Pasha answered questions about the wedding with the same phrase:
“Don’t rush things; I’m not going anywhere.”
However, when Nastya told him she was pregnant, his face suddenly darkened. Whether surprise or irritation flashed in his eyes.
“What kind of surprise is this? What child? Drop that idea,” he said coldly.
“What do you mean?” the girl was confused. “The child is already here; nothing can be changed.”
“Are you completely stupid?” he raised his voice. “Why did I get involved with someone like… That can be dealt with. Take care of it as soon as possible, I don’t want kids.”
“So you don’t want me anymore either?” she asked through tears.
“You know, I think you’re right. I’ll do just fine without you; I don’t need problems,” he answered indifferently.
“But what am I supposed to do now? I sold my room, quit my job…”
“What were you thinking before? The habit of always relying on someone else to solve everything? I don’t want to be that person. You’re grown up now, figure it out yourself.”
Nastya had very little money left. They wouldn’t tolerate a pregnant woman long in a rented room, and she couldn’t stay unemployed—the money was running out fast. So she became a cleaner, glad even for that opportunity. A medical certificate wasn’t required for that job, and she decided to keep her condition secret as long as possible.
Maybe they would still pay benefits? Or maybe Pasha, learning about the baby, would soften and help? Nastya knew these hopes were pointless, but she had nothing else to rely on.
And then, at such a difficult moment, news of the inheritance arrived. No wonder Nastya cried tears of happiness. Perhaps it was the first true ray of light in her life for a long time.
In truth, the inheritance was not a luxurious house or an apartment in the city center, but a village house. The village was not far from the city, but Nastya had never been there and had no idea what kind of place it was.
On a day off, she took a taxi to see the new property. Maybe she could sell the house? Or use it as a summer cottage?
“What do you need in this wilderness?” the taxi driver grumbled the whole way. “The road’s broken; I’m not going further, I’m not going to break my car.”
“Is the village completely abandoned? Do people live there?” Nastya asked sadly.
“I don’t know if anyone lives there. If they do, they’re not the kind to take taxis.”
Seeing her grandfather’s house, Nastya felt even sadder. From the outside, the building didn’t look too bad, but inside was complete devastation. The floors were torn up, walls damaged, furniture broken and scattered. It seemed vandals had been there—it was hard to imagine the grandfather living in such conditions.
“Do people still live in the village?” Nastya asked a passing elderly woman.
“How can they not? They do. In summer, gardeners come, but I’ll be leaving soon myself—what’s there to do in winter?”
“Who trashed my grandfather’s house like this? I looked inside—it’s awful.”
“I don’t know, dear. There’s no one to watch the house. Maybe someone came, but I didn’t see.”
There was nothing to be done, and Nastya returned home. Thanks, grandfather, for such «luck»… But what could she do—no one left her anything else and certainly wouldn’t. And the grandfather wanted to give his granddaughter a gift. At least thank him for remembering and caring.
Nastya barely knew her grandfather but wasn’t going to speak ill of him. Pyotr Danilovich was an artist. Not famous, but painted well—people bought his paintings, and that’s how he lived.
Living in a ruined house? Nastya might have agreed if there were a way to restore the home to a decent state. But that was out of the question for now—she needed strength, money, and time.
In the city, she unexpectedly ran into Pasha. The joy quickly faded—her ex-fiancé wasn’t going to help. On the contrary, seeing she hadn’t gotten rid of the «problem,» he decided to push her out of the city as soon as possible.
Pavel got a job as a security guard at the same company where Nastya worked and began spreading rumors. Soon, the boss called the girl in:
“You’re expecting a child, I suppose?” he said, looking her over. “Why didn’t you tell us at hiring?”
“I thought…”
“No, dear. I don’t need maternity cases. You can work and will work, but I’ll get more trouble than benefit. Sorry.”
So Nastya was left without a job, and it was a total disaster. You couldn’t get another job with a belly, and the apartment would be asked for once it was clear she couldn’t pay. The only option was to give birth and somehow survive the first period.
Realizing there was no one else to expect help from, she went to her grandfather’s house, which had now become her only refuge.
On the way to the village, she noticed a man wandering around the house. Who could that be? Maybe a local looking to scavenge? When she approached, the man quickly left.
There was no time or anyone to ask about the visit. Nastya entered the house and began cleaning up, realizing she wouldn’t manage anyway—she had neither strength nor skill. She was about to sit down and cry from helplessness when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said indifferently, expecting nothing good.
An unfamiliar man entered—unremarkable in appearance but not frightening. Perhaps he worked somewhere—there was always plenty to do in the village. It would have been stranger if he had come in a business suit.
“Good day, madam,” he said politely. “I see you came to live or just to stay?”
“What do you want? This is my house.”
“Maybe you’re looking for a worker? I’m walking around offering jobs. Don’t be afraid—I just see a woman alone, probably needing help.”
“Help is certainly needed, but payment is a problem.”
“I’m not asking for anything. I mean, later, depending on the results, I’m sure we’ll come to an agreement. Looks like your first task is to take out the trash—that’s what I’ll start with. You rest for now, sit outside. The place is beautiful.”
Nastya wasn’t interested in the beauty. She sat on the bench near the porch and dozed off unnoticed. The worker, calling himself Denis, tirelessly worked in the house, collecting garbage and inspecting the rooms.
Denis didn’t enter the house without reason, though not by his own choice. Young and inexperienced, he found himself in a hopeless situation—he had to come up with a large sum of money but didn’t even have a tenth of what was needed.
A passerby noticed the bewildered young man, learned of the situation, and paid for him. Leaving the store, the benefactor said:
“I hope you understand nothing is free. I need a favor from you too. Don’t worry, nothing illegal. You need to find one thing in the empty village house and give it to me.”
That’s how Denis ended up here. And the house, it turns out, has an owner.
Working together on the arrangements, they became friends, learning more about each other and sympathizing—both had their own sad story. Only Denis did not dare admit he came to the house not by chance. He was ashamed.
But soon he had to confess. A car stopped near the house, and two men got out and approached Denis. Nastya watched them argue loudly and then attack the young man with fists.
She didn’t hesitate, ran outside, grabbed a rake, and went at the attackers.
“How terrible! We have to call the police!” she said, wiping blood from Denis’s face.
“No need. They came for me.”
He explained he had come to the house on their order.
“What could they be looking for? Grandpa wasn’t rich; he had nothing,” the girl couldn’t believe it.
“Apparently, he did. Some icon. It was stolen from a church; they brought it to him for restoration. He agreed just for show—planned to return it to the church but hid it somewhere for now. Soon the grandfather passed away. They hired me to find it… Forgive me, Nastya. I didn’t know I’d meet you and fall in love.”
She hugged him, and they confessed their feelings.
“I’ll change, go work. There’s a farm in the neighboring village. You and our baby won’t lack anything,” he promised.
And Nastya believed him.
But the attackers weren’t ready to give up. Now they decided to try another approach—they found Pavel in the city, told him their story, and offered good money to get close to Nastya. To find out if she knew about the precious icon or if they had found it themselves.
Pavel agreed eagerly, sure that seeing him, Nastya would immediately melt and run into his arms. But, of course, that didn’t happen. Anastasia refused even to talk to her ex-fiancé, and Denis drove him away by force.
Angry, Pasha decided in revenge to set fire to the house—let it burn with that couple, he thought wickedly, not even remembering that his child might perish with Nastya.
But no one was hurt. Denis managed to escape and lead his beloved out. The house burned down completely, but the villains could only console themselves with the thought that the icon was lost forever.
Nastya and Denis were left homeless amid the ashes.
“The house burned to the ground; there was no one to put out the fire,” Nastya said. “But the plot remains! I’m the owner. The house was worth nothing anyway—old. You promised to work, and as soon as I give birth, I’ll go too. We’ll build a new one! Meanwhile, let’s talk to the neighbors—people usually help fire victims.”
Denis agreed, and they got to clearing the debris with renewed energy.
Soon help arrived, quite unexpectedly. Nastya, rummaging through the ashes, again saw a fancy car. She was scared, expecting new trouble, but those who arrived caused no concern.
To Nastya’s surprise, an elegant lady got out and went straight to her, asking nervously:
“I was told you have a young man living or working here. Tell me, is his name Denis? I need him very much.”
“Yes, he’s here. Denis!” Nastya called, glancing back at the burned ruins.
When she turned, she gasped in fright—the woman was sinking to the ground.
“What’s wrong?”
Fortunately, the woman’s companion arrived and helped her up, soothing her:
“Calm down, Anechka, don’t worry, everything’s fine.”
Now it was the man’s turn to clutch his heart:
“That’s him, Anechka! Look, we found him!”
After calming down and drinking water, the elderly couple explained what was going on.
It turns out Denis was their biological son! A mix-up had happened at the maternity hospital—whether deliberately or by accident, no one would ever know. The babies were switched.
“I suspected something from the start,” the woman said. “And I thought she had something wrong with her head,” added the husband. “We did a test—Maxim is not our biological child. What could we do? We raised him as our own. But all these years, we’ve been looking for you.”
“When we saw you… You’re my double! I was just like you when I was young. My lips and eyes are exactly like my mother’s. Oh, how long we searched for you! And now we found you. What happiness!”
It was a real miracle, happiness for all. The parents were sure the found son would happily move to the city with his young wife, but Denis, as happy as he was about the reunion, flatly refused to move to the wealthy house. He wanted to live with Nastya and restore her home.
Of course, on their own, the young couple would not achieve this goal quickly, but the mother and father did not intend to leave them. They were wealthy and decided to help.
Soon workers arrived at the plot and began construction. Denis actively participated in the building, while Nastya came to sit nearby and watch the progress.
Once, one of the workers stumbled:
“Damn, almost fell in! Looks like there’s an old well here.”
“Why didn’t they fill it in?” Nastya wondered.
“It dried up long ago, just covered with boards. And there’s some kind of rope…”
Denis pulled the rope and pulled out a tightly sealed bucket.
“Looks like you’ve got treasure here!” the worker whistled.
“That’s not a treasure; it’s an icon of the Holy Mother of God,” Nastya corrected. “We won’t sell it but will return it where it was stolen from—in the church.”
That’s what they did, fully convinced that such an act would guarantee a long and happy life.
It seemed they were right. In the new house, Denis and Nastya lived wonderfully. The father helped the young man find a good job and introduced him to his foster brother, who became a faithful friend and helper to the young family.
Soon, Anna and Vasily—the new parents’ names—had two grandchildren at once. Nastya gave birth to twins: a boy and a girl. There was no doubt these children awaited a happy life in a big, loving family.
