Olga struggled to get out of bed, wincing in pain. Nearby, in the hospital nursery’s bassinet, her little son loudly announced his needs. Her stomach ached terribly after the surgery, and it felt as if someone were hammering his head—a consequence of the spinal anesthesia. “One in a hundred cases,” the anesthesiologist said sadly when the woman complained of unbearable headaches. According to the doctors, the condition should pass on its own, but Olga felt as if these symptoms would remain forever.
Breastfeeding was temporarily forbidden because of the anesthesia, so the woman had to go to the restroom to prepare a bottle for feeding her little hero. And indeed, the baby was a big one—fifty-four centimeters tall and weighing five kilograms. Due to the large size of the baby, Olga had to have an emergency cesarean section.
Leaning against the walls, she headed off to prepare some food for the newborn. She felt dreadful, and she asked the neonatologist if she could find someone to look after the child. However, after receiving a disapproving look from the doctor and a lecture on the importance of the close bond between mother and newborn, she fell silent immediately. In the corridor, she encountered the orderly, Katya—a very pleasant young woman who cleaned the ward and often offered Olga help in taking care of the baby.
“Why did you get up? I can see your head splitting. Why did I even give you my phone number?” Kateryna gently chided her.
“You already have so much work, and here I am with my own difficulties,” Olga replied with a sheepish smile.
“What difficulties? It’s a real blessing that you’ve given birth to a healthy, beautiful son. The pain will pass unnoticed, just wait. It’s only been three days,” Katya said, taking the bottle from Olga, “Go back to your room; I’ll take care of everything myself.”
The woman returned to the ward where her crying son waited and picked him up. The baby was very sweet—chubby with huge blue eyes; he resembled a ripe apple that one would want to take a bite out of.
Once in his mother’s arms, he gazed at her with his still-dim eyes and fell silent, feeling the familiar warmth.
“And what shall we call you, our little treasure?” Olga asked her son, kissing his little nose.
She and her husband had firmly decided not to learn the baby’s gender before birth. More precisely, Olga didn’t want to, while Ruslan maintained that he didn’t care who was born—as long as the child was healthy. But for some reason, she was convinced that her husband longed for a son. The woman had wanted to name the boy Ruslan, after his father, but she did not yet know her husband’s opinion on the matter.
After giving birth, she sent a message to her husband, to which she received nothing more than a heart picture in response. For the third day, neither her husband’s nor her mother-in-law’s phone answered. This was very strange, because they had never disappeared before. Olga called the secretary of the firm that Ruslan and his mother owned, but the secretary calmly replied that everything was fine and that the owners were most likely in a remote forestry area, where mobile reception might be absent. Ruslan and his mother owned a woodworking plant, so trips to the forest were a common occurrence.
“Here comes our hungry little one!” Katya said affectionately as she handed Olga a bottle of warm formula. She helped the mother feed her son and, after laying the contented baby in his crib, smiled gently.
“Katya, thank you so much! What would I do without you?” Olga gratefully told the girl.
“Don’t mention it. It’s my pleasure,” the orderly waved her off. “Just know that once you’re discharged in a couple of days, I’ll be here all alone again. I’m like an invisible person.”
“You’re an amazing person, and I’m sure we’ll become great friends!” Olga assured her.
Kateryna smiled sadly and left the room. Most of the new mothers she helped exchanged only a few messages after discharge and then forgot about her forever. Katya desperately longed to make a true friend. She had no one in this world. A girl from an orphanage with poor health, she had always been the object of ridicule in childhood and had become virtually invisible as an adult. She even had a qualification as a hairdresser, but when she started working in a salon, she just couldn’t fit in with the beautiful, flashy, self-confident women. Katya tried to get a job as a janitor or cleaner, but no one wanted to hire a pale, forty-five-kilogram girl. A roommate in the dormitory, where Kateryna lived after leaving the orphanage, advised her to apply to the hospital, where orderlies were always needed.
But even there, the staff didn’t really accept her, constantly teasing her about her thinness and fragile appearance. When she met Olga, Katya was surprised that after such difficult childbirth, no one had visited the pleasant woman. It was clear from the new mother that she came from a wealthy family. “The rich have their own quirks,” thought the orderly, oddly feeling sympathy for Olga, who was very open and friendly, despite the VIP status of her ward.
Olga woke in the middle of the night from her son’s crying and, with surprise, realized that her head no longer hurt. Carefully turning her head in different directions, she almost burst into tears with joy. Slowly rising from bed, she picked up her baby, and he calmed down, making funny little smacking noises with his lips. Olga looked at this little person and understood that life would never be the same—the baby had given it a special meaning and endless love.
She had always dreamed of having children; in her childhood, she had eagerly awaited the arrival of a little brother or sister. Her parents had divorced, and her mother had soon remarried another man, and Olga had moved in with her grandmother. Her mother visited a few times a month, guiltily averting her eyes. The girl understood that her stepfather did not want to see a child that wasn’t his own at home. Later, her younger siblings, Vitya and Sveta, were born. When the children turned three, her parents would occasionally leave them with their grandmother. Those were the best days—Olga would babysit the little ones and gorge herself on candies and cookies because her stepfather spared no expense in taking care of his children at his mother-in-law’s. On other days, Olga and her grandmother could barely make ends meet on the tiny pension of the elderly woman. Grandmother loved her granddaughter dearly and dreamed of living long enough to see her wedding. But unfortunately, that dream never came true—she died when Olga was in her second year at a teachers’ college. It was then that Olga truly understood what loneliness meant: her mother had completely distanced herself, and her stepfather would snort dismissively whenever she visited on weekends; the only joy was the days when her younger siblings came to the village to their grandmother’s house.
After graduating from college, Olga got a job at a school and rented a room in a dormitory. Her stepfather, deciding he’d finally rid himself of her, declared the grandmother’s house a summer cottage and started an enormous renovation that lasted for years. Since then, she no longer came to the village, and she communicated with her brother and sister only over the phone.
She met Ruslan by chance—Olga was standing at a bus stop, waiting for a minibus, when a sleek jeep pulled up beside her and a young man asked where the nearest pharmacy was located. She explained how to get there, and the young man, with a bashful smile, asked her name. The next day, the same car appeared again at the bus stop, and Ruslan offered her a ride. Thus began their romance. The young man courted her beautifully, never drank alcohol, and was very gallant. Of course, she noticed some oddities about him—like he couldn’t bear to leave even a crumb of food on his plate, didn’t like crowded places, and always burst into tears when he saw dogs hit by cars. Explaining this by his innate modesty and love for animals, Olga was proud of her chosen one and loved him sincerely.
When it came time for her to meet his mother, Anna Dmitrievna, Olga realized that her chosen one was completely different from her. The mother-in-law turned out to be an extremely domineering person, who openly despised the poor and unhesitatingly called Olga a mooch, incapable of achieving anything on her own in life.
However, to the bride’s surprise, Ruslan showed firmness of character and declared to his mother that his decision was final and not up for discussion. Anna Dmitrievna immediately shrank and, with a note of offense in her voice, said, “Welcome to the family.” Olga insisted on continuing to work, even though she no longer needed the money. For unknown reasons, her mother-in-law and husband preferred to keep their capital in cash, and the young wife could withdraw any amount. She acquired premium wardrobe items, was chauffeured to work by a personal driver, and her husband regularly gifted her expensive jewelry.
At the wedding celebration, she invited her brother and sister, and they later recounted at home what kind of family the girl had married into. After that, her mother began calling her frequently, sending greetings from the stepfather, inviting her over, and one day even directly asked if Olga could provide financial assistance. Olga was upset that she was being seen solely as a source of money and told everything to Ruslan. He smirked maliciously and stated that he would authorize money for his relatives only if she ceased all contact with them. But on one condition: the girl must inform her mother of his ultimatum. Olga found this inappropriate and rude, but her husband insisted. She remembered that day for a long time. On a Saturday morning, having resolved to talk, she dialed her mother’s number. Ruslan sat next to her and held her hand.
“Hi, Mom,” Olga greeted in an artificially cheerful tone. “Hello, darling,” her mother replied. “How are things? What are you up to?” Olga continued. “Oh, we’re struggling with this renovation, little Vitya needs a tracksuit, and Sveta needs boots—we don’t know where to begin,” her mother began listing her problems by habit. “Okay,” Olga replied, unsure how to tell her mother about Ruslan’s proposal. “Darling, do you remember I asked you to help us with some money? Have you spoken to your husband? For you it’s just pocket change, but for us it would be a huge help,” her mother said in a gentle tone. “Well, here’s the thing, Mom. Ruslan said he could provide funds, on the condition that we no longer maintain contact with you,” the girl cautiously said, tensing up in anticipation of a reaction. “And why is that?” her mother asked, confused, then added, “Just don’t fight with your husband. If you can’t help us anymore, maybe you can give us more money?” Ruslan squeezed Olga’s hand and smirked disappointedly. Inside, the girl felt as though everything had come crashing down.
“State the sum, Mom,” Ruslan roughly said into the phone. She said something in reply, but Olga wasn’t listening anymore—she was overwhelmed with sobbing. Her husband left her alone in the room and walked out. She rushed to the phone, but the call had ended. Olga wanted to write her mother a message, but she didn’t know how to express the depth of her pain when the mother-in-law entered the room.
“Good riddance to you,” the woman sneered, “So you thought you were needed by your own family? People only care about money, and the sooner you realize that, the easier life will be for you.” “But she’s my mother. How can this be?” Olga cried. “Calm down,” Anna Dmitrievna snapped, “Life is a harsh thing—don’t be naive! But you do love your son! And you’d never trade him even for billions!” Olga retorted. “I would trade that son,” her mother-in-law laughed as she left, leaving the shocked girl alone. They never returned to that conversation again, but Olga began to notice that there was no close relationship between her husband and his mother: they never hugged, and she wasn’t the least worried when he caught pneumonia and spent three weeks in the hospital. Yet, almost all the time, they spent together—running the plant, shopping together, and often locking themselves in the office to discuss their own matters.
Ruslan rarely spoke about his childhood, limiting himself to the phrase, “It was like everyone else’s.” The only time Olga, recalling her grandmother, burst into tears saying how much she missed her, he blurted out, “I wish I could have seen my grandmother too. It’s a pity she died,” causing Olga to be horrified by the sudden anger in his eyes.
After three years of marriage, Olga became pregnant. Upon telling her husband the news, she received another piece of gold jewelry, but she noticed that he did not feel particularly excited. When her mother-in-law learned of the pregnancy, she shrugged and said:
“Children are a hassle, but it’s your decision.” The pregnancy was complicated. Olga was put on bed rest three times because there was a threat of miscarriage. Her husband visited her sometimes, but she noticed that his passion for her was fading, and they began to resemble friends rather than a married couple. Occasionally, she suspected that Ruslan had taken another woman, as he often smelled of expensive women’s perfume—similar to the ones he gave her, though she never used them herself due to the strong scents, first because of morning sickness and later due to hormonal imbalances.
Several times, Olga tried to get her husband to talk, but he brushed off her suspicions and evaded an answer. After complaining to her mother-in-law, Olga received some strange advice:
“Girl, you live in luxury. What difference does it make on whose sheets your husband sometimes sleeps? If he leaves you, you’ll end up wandering around in a dorm with your child again. You don’t have the wit or courage to become a well-off person. So sit tight and don’t stir up trouble,” Anna Dmitrievna said disdainfully to her daughter-in-law. That same evening, Ruslan brought his wife another set of jewelry and, deciding that she was getting worked up over the pregnancy, Olga calmed down a little.
In the morning at the maternity ward, there was a round of checks, and the surgeon, after inspecting the suture and nodding satisfactorily, declared that Olga and her baby could be discharged the next day. The woman was very happy and dialed her husband’s number, but he still did not answer. She sent him a message and, to her surprise, saw that it was immediately read. When she dialed his number again, she only heard the ringing tone; no one picked up.
Not understanding what was happening, Olga hoped that Ruslan would call her back later. An hour later, Katya entered the ward, and something in her face revealed that something was amiss.
“Olga, did the doctors come for rounds today?” the girl anxiously asked. “Yes, they said I’d be discharged tomorrow,” replied Olga, suddenly feeling a wave of anxiety. “I was just mopping the floors in the chief’s office and overheard that your mother-in-law called him and demanded that your discharge be postponed for a week,” Katya explained. “But why? I don’t understand,” Olga said, confused. “I don’t know, but I think everything has already been paid for. They won’t let you leave the hospital—they’ll invent some diagnosis or something else,” Katya informed her, upset. “Who’s going to hold me here against my will? I’ll leave tomorrow, that’s it,” Olga replied dismissively. “It’s not that simple. If the doctor claims there is some threat to the baby, they could detain you and even take your child away,” Katya said sorrowfully. A pediatrician and an orderly hurried out of the room.
“Olga Alexandrovna, let’s take a look at our hero,” the doctor said cheerfully as she unwrapped the swaddling cloths. “Look, the boy has a yellowish tint to his skin.” Olga looked at her absolutely white baby and stared at the doctor in bewilderment.
“Don’t worry, let’s wait a bit and observe your baby. It might be a reaction to the vaccine,” the doctor said softly, handing the child back to Olga. “Are you sure, doctor? I don’t see any jaundice,” the woman asked irritably. “Don’t worry,” the doctor repeated, “This happens sometimes. We just need to keep an eye on it.” The pediatrician left the ward, leaving Olga deep in thought.
From behind the door, Katya’s face appeared; she had heard everything the doctor said.
“Katya, come in, please. Can you help me?” Olga asked. “I’ll try,” the girl answered hesitantly. “These jewelry pieces are very expensive,” the woman explained hurriedly as she removed her earrings and bracelet. “Please take them to a pawnshop, get a taxi, and follow my husband.” She showed his photo on her phone, named the office address, and Katya promised to help figure out what was going on. Left alone, Olga took her son in her arms and began to cry. She realized that perhaps her husband had decided to leave her because of a mistress. But why had they detained her in the hospital? She couldn’t understand. In the end, Ruslan, having decided to rid himself of his wife and son, might have planned to buy her an apartment, pay alimony, and then live quietly. No, something in this situation felt strange. She recalled again the odd relationship between her mother-in-law and her husband—he practically listened to his mother in everything and never quarreled with her, except on the day they met. And once, her husband, who never drank alcohol, suddenly, after buying several bottles of beer, sat down to watch football in front of the TV. The mother-in-law, upon seeing him drink, snatched the bottle from him and uttered a strange phrase:
“As if you needed your tongue to be loosened by drinking! We agreed—no alcohol, or did you forget?” “Well, just a little. Sorry, you’re right,” Ruslan replied meekly, handing over the beer and obsequiously looking into his mother’s eyes. That too sounded strange, because the mother-in-law had claimed that Ruslan’s father died while she was pregnant, so it was puzzling that he had ever indulged in alcohol.
Olga was also surprised by the complete illiteracy of her husband and his mother—they couldn’t write a few words without making a million mistakes. Yet, in business, these people seemed to be quite successful.
The next day, early in the morning, Katya burst into the ward with shocking news—Ruslan and his mother had sold the business and left the country. A security guard near the office had told her about it. Olga, not understanding anything, called her mother-in-law’s secretary, but the secretary, in a cold tone, confirmed the information and asked her not to disturb them further.
Disoriented, Olga was in shock and couldn’t stay in the hospital any longer—she had to figure out what had happened.
“Katya, how can I be discharged?” she asked anxiously. “There’s one option. Someone from your family has to come and insist on your discharge. Then the doctors won’t be able to keep you,” Katya answered. Olga called her younger sister, who had just turned eighteen, and within an hour, the noisy Vitya and Sveta arrived with a bouquet of flowers and champagne to greet her sister. The chief physician came out to meet them and stated that Olga and her child needed to remain in the hospital, but the siblings, instructed by their sister, replied that a new mother and her child could be observed on an outpatient basis, and that causing legal trouble by detaining them was not advisable. The doctor, grumbling, handed Olga her discharge papers, and after thanking her relatives, she went home to Ruslan.
Arriving at the house, the woman was horrified to see a “Sold” real estate sign and a truck unloading furniture, carrying it inside.
A chill ran down Olga’s spine. Realizing that she had nowhere to go with her child, she began feverishly thinking about what to do. Asking her mother was out of the question after the money incident, and in the two-room apartment where she lived—with her stepfather, adult brother, and sister—there really wasn’t enough space. To Olga’s knowledge, the grandmother’s house was under construction, so it was impossible to live there.
It was too shameful to turn to her colleagues from the school, and besides, she didn’t have any really close friends there. She knew that in the near future she would receive maternity and childbirth benefits, which could be used to rent a place, but for now she needed to find a place to spend the night for herself and her son.
Olga still had a necklace with a pendant that she could pawn, but she planned to use that money to buy diapers and formula for her baby, since her own milk was catastrophically insufficient.
Olga stared blankly at the phone screen when suddenly she had an idea.
“Katya, hello,” she said into the phone, not knowing how to ask her new acquaintance for help. “Hello. So what’s up? Did you find out where your husband is?” the girl asked anxiously. “They even sold the house,” Olga said, breaking down in tears. “Alright, calm down and come to me,” the orderly immediately offered, giving her his address. Olga drove to the dormitory, where Katya was already waiting outside. They entered the modest room of the girl.
“Don’t worry. I’ll lie on the floor if I’m not on duty, and you and your child can use the bed. By the way, what will you name your son?” Kateryna suddenly asked. “Bogdan,” Olga replied with a smile. Indeed, he was given by God, so she firmly decided that for his sake she would overcome all difficulties. The next day, Katya rushed off to her shift at the hospital, and while Olga thoughtfully fed little Bogdan, she resolved to find out which country her husband and mother-in-law had gone to. She dialed the number of a customs officer—who happened to be the father of one of her students—and asked him for a favor. The man immediately agreed, grateful for his mischievous son, whom the teacher had defended several times at faculty meetings. An hour later, he called back and informed her that these people had certainly not crossed the national border.
“So, Ruslan and his mother deceived everyone by saying they left abroad.” It was very strange indeed, for they had actually sold the business and the house. Olga tried to find information on the internet about the new owner of the woodworking plant, but it turned out to be impossible. Instead, she came across an advertisement for private detective services. Dialing the number, she heard a man’s voice who, after introducing himself, agreed to meet.
The man agreed to meet that evening, and leaving her son in the care of Katya, Olga headed to the specified address.
The private detective’s office was in an ordinary residential building in a two-room apartment, where apparently he lived. The detective turned out to be a handsome man, about forty years old, named Igor Sergeyevich.
“I have an unusual request with many nuances. I need to find out where my husband has gone,” Olga began, and Igor rolled his eyes nervously, as he despised trailing unfaithful spouses and usually refused such cases. “Ma’am, I’m probably not the right person for you. I don’t handle love affairs, but I can refer you to another specialist,” the man said, but Olga immediately interrupted him. “This isn’t a love affair. My husband and his mother created the illusion that they left the country, although I have reliable information that it’s not true.” “And why all the complications?” Igor asked, surprised. “That’s exactly what I want you to find out,” Olga replied and showed him photos of her husband and mother-in-law. The detective lazily examined the photographs until he noticed Ruslan in front of his car. “Is that your husband’s car?” “Yes. Is something wrong?” Olga asked in surprise. “Not sure yet. Alright, I’ll take your case. And what about the nuance you mentioned?” the detective inquired. “You see, I’m due to receive maternity benefits. But right now, I have no money. Could you start the investigation on credit?” she pleaded. “Are you pregnant?” Igor asked in surprise. “No, I gave birth to my son a week ago,” Olga replied. “So your husband disappeared without even seeing his child?” the detective asked doubtfully. “Exactly,” the woman answered sadly, “Will you help me?” “Alright, it’s a deal. As soon as I have any information, I’ll let you know,” Igor assured her and said goodbye. He spent a long time flipping through the photos that the client had sent. There was no doubt in his mind—this was the same car that the ex-wife used to ride with her lover. For several days, he had not been able to contact a son who had been taken somewhere by Alena. She, too, did not answer his calls. Suspecting that this might be connected with Ruslan’s disappearance, Igor decided to uncover the whole truth.
Previously, he had worked in special forces, performing particularly sensitive tasks. However, one mistake during a counter-terrorism operation cost him his career and his family. He had received a gunshot wound to the heart area. A bullet had lodged in his soft tissue, and the doctors feared to remove it, as it posed a serious risk—the foreign object could at any moment reach his heart, spelling inevitable doom. His wife soon left him, saying she didn’t want to wake up every morning wondering if her husband would live. But Igor knew that the main reason for their split was that his disability pension was much lower than a special forces salary. Alena was a very attractive woman, so she easily found wealthy protectors. They had argued many times about this, for the former wife’s dissolute life was on display for their seven-year-old son. Yet she claimed that if her ex-husband began paying adequate alimony, she could give up chasing rich men, and they would live as before.
Igor began working as a private detective, and though the income was unstable, it was decent enough. However, Alena was never satisfied. Lately, she had been involved in a romance with a rich man from the woodworking business. And, looking at Olga’s photos today, he was convinced that this was exactly the same lover. Igor no longer intended to win his wife back, but he was determined to find out where the child had gone and why he wasn’t attending school.
The next day, contacting a friend who worked in the transport department, the detective easily used road surveillance cameras to track where that very jeep was headed. He called Olga and told her he had important information, and he suggested meeting.
But the woman couldn’t leave because there was no one to take care of her child, so she asked him to come to the dormitory. Climbing the stairs, the man was struck by the state in which Olga and her child found themselves: a grimy entrance filled with the most unpleasant smells, walls scribbled with obscene words, and several very drunk individuals trying to get to their apartments. “What a wonderful place for a little child,” Igor thought irritably. He knocked on the door of the room, whose number Olga had given, and was surprised upon entering. The room was simply furnished, but everything was clean and tidy, and it smelled pleasant. On the bed lay the newborn baby.
“Is his fontanel still open?” Igor asked knowingly. “Not yet, it’s still too early,” the woman smiled. “Do you clean his navel?” the detective inquired. “Do you have a little one too?” the woman asked, pleasantly surprised at how well the man knew about newborn care. “Seven years old. A boy. Artem!” the detective clearly pronounced, but it was evident how tenderly he spoke about his son. At that moment, Ekaterina entered the room and looked at Igor in surprise.
“Katya, meet Igor Sergeyevich—the private detective. And this is Katya, my friend, the lady who ensured that we wouldn’t have to sleep on the street with the baby,” Olga introduced them. “Very nice to meet you, Katya. You’re like a ray of light in this kingdom of darkness,” the detective said to the somewhat confused young woman. Two pairs of astonished eyes stared at him, but he brushed it off, saying that he’d explain later.
“I have information about your husband’s whereabouts,” Igor said, “He is currently in the village of Chorny Klyuch. Do you know where that is?” Olga shrugged. The detective pointed at the location on a map, and the woman was surprised at why her husband would venture into such a remote place.
“Thank you for the information,” she said uncertainly, not knowing what to do next. “Let’s see—I’ll keep an eye on him for a couple of days and find out why he’s hiding there. In the meantime, you shouldn’t take any action. Okay?” the detective proposed. “Okay, of course. Agreed,” Olga answered thoughtfully. Igor took his leave. Realizing that she couldn’t endure several more days without unraveling the mystery of her family’s disappearance, Olga asked Katya to watch Bogdan while she went to the station. Fortunately, the bus to the village of Chorny Klyuch was departing in twenty minutes, and she, buying herself some tea, waited on the platform. Suddenly, her phone rang, and an anxious Katya asked her not to go.
“I feel very uneasy,” the friend said on the phone. “Don’t worry. I need to tie up all the loose ends,” Olga replied, assuring her that she’d be back in a couple of hours. “Olga, it’s strange that your husband is hiding there. What if it’s related to some criminal matter? What if bandits have kidnapped him and his mother?” Katya couldn’t stop worrying. “I’ll be extremely careful!” “But just in case, send me the detective’s number,” the orderly suddenly requested. “Okay, I’ll do everything so you can be at ease,” Olga laughed and got on the bus. When she arrived in the village at dusk, thinking that she had saved money on a taxi unnecessarily, the woman slowly walked down the street. The village was tiny, nestled at the edge of a forest and had, at first glance, no more than twenty houses. After about three hundred meters, Olga saw a familiar jeep parked in a yard. It was parked near a real shack, for that structure couldn’t really be called a house. In the yard stood a young woman, shaking out a blanket. Ruslan approached her and embraced her. Everything became clear to Olga, and she was overwhelmed with indignation.
“Ruslan!” she shouted loudly. Her husband flinched and turned around. Then, with a gesture signaling his lover to come inside, he led Olga into the house.
“Don’t call me by my name,” he hissed angrily as he dragged her by the hand inside. “How could you do this to me? Didn’t you even come to see our son?” Olga protested, when suddenly she felt a hard blow to the head and everything went dark. Katya nervously checked her watch—more than four hours had passed since Olga left. She didn’t answer her phone. Sensing something was wrong, the girl called Igor. After listening to the orderly, he cursed and jumped into his car. He was appalled by the reckless behavior of this crazy lady who, despite his warnings, had heroically decided to confront the situation.
Olga felt as though she were sitting in a boat with cold drops of breeze lashing her face. She abruptly woke up and realized she was lying on the floor in some basement, with her hands tied above her head to a wooden beam. In front of her stood her mother-in-law holding a cup of water.
“Wake up,” she said to someone in the darkness. From the far corner, Ruslan appeared and sat down in front of his wife.
“So, what brought you here? Why couldn’t you just stay at home?” he asked irritably. “At which home? The one that’s been sold?” Olga challenged, realizing that her situation was dire. “You’re supposed to stay in the medical facility and recover calmly,” her mother-in-law sneered. “Is it your own mother who hit me on the head?” the wife asked Ruslan. “No. Not my mother. Mine passed away a long time ago,” her husband suddenly replied and burst into laughter. “What do you mean? Ruslan, what are you babbling about? Untie me,” Olga exclaimed in disbelief. “And I’m not Ruslan at all. I’m Sergey. Just an ordinary, wretched, vagrant Sergey,” the man laughed nervously. “Want me to tell you a story? Once upon a time there was a boy named Sergey. Tiny and terribly undernourished because his mother practically starved him while spending all her money on alcohol. He had no father. Well, theoretically he existed, but his mother probably didn’t even know who he was. That boy Sergey was constantly pestered by her lovers, and once one of them forced him to stand all night on a bed of buckwheat groats! Someone must have noticed and taken the boy away from his mother. They gave him to his poor grandmother. And that old lady wasn’t foolish either, but after musing that someone would pay for such a boy, she took him in. Thus, a life of misery with his mother ended, and a hard life with his grandmother began. The boy was always hungry, and the stingy old woman bought him nothing, only occasionally preparing some meager food. In the summer, the boy wandered through other people’s gardens and even tried to catch fish in a pond. There, in the pond, he discovered a sack of puppies—kind people had decided to drown them. And he managed to rescue one. They named him Chernysh, because he was entirely dark. And he secretly took him to the shed. The old lady caught him, but still allowed the dog to live. Only then did the boy’s burdens increase—he had to also forage food for Chernysh. And one day, when the old lady, drunk, fell asleep and forgot the small change on the table, the boy was overjoyed, grabbed the money, ran to a shop, and bought four caramels. He ate one immediately and stashed the other three in his pocket. But the old lady found out and started beating him for stealing money. Then she went into the shed and attacked Chernysh with a shovel. Do you know how loudly he whimpered?” the husband fell silent and wiped away newly forming tears. “I’m so pained,” began Olga, but he slapped her. “What are you pained about? You told me about your grandmother—my grandmother, oh, how wonderfully she loved me! I dreamed all my childhood that mine would be the one to kick the bucket! And then the boy had to go to school, and the old lady claimed that a disabled child would fetch more money. She said that her granddaughter Sergey was completely underdeveloped—could neither read nor write, couldn’t distinguish colors. And they sent the boy to a boarding school for children with special needs. And it was even more fun there than with the old lady. Have you ever had matches placed between your toes until they burned out?” a demonic anger flashed in his eyes, and Olga realized that she wouldn’t leave here alive. “You know, what hurts the most,” he continued, “is that everyone knew, whispered ‘poor little boy,’ but then locked themselves away in their cozy homes, pampering their well-fed offspring as if my misfortunes didn’t affect them at all. No one cared about me.” After the boarding school, I got a job as an orderly in the morgue. There I met another orderly, Aunt Lyuda. She had served time because of her husband, who betrayed her—just like her daughters, who constantly demanded alimony and were even ashamed to greet their own mother. “Together, we found a way to survive—often we would remove gold jewelry from the deceased, mostly teeth or wedding rings. Then, on New Year’s Eve, we would deliver a woman with her child; they’d get into a car accident. Their age suited us perfectly. The police were in a hurry to celebrate the holiday and simply left them with us. We found all the documents, account numbers, even passwords and secret phrases written in a notebook. That’s how Ruslan and Anna Dmitrievna appeared. But soon a relative showed up—he came from abroad to find them. We had to hide. Only pity for my son—now he’s destined for either a boarding school or an orphanage.” The man took a deep breath and silently left the basement. Olga remained alone in complete darkness, understanding that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave alive. She quietly wept, saying farewell to her baby, when suddenly someone’s hand covered her mouth.
“Quiet, it’s Igor. Everyone upstairs is asleep,” he said as he untied her. They quietly left the house and ran to the car. But suddenly Igor abruptly stopped and fell unconscious. Olga slapped his cheeks, but couldn’t revive him. She found his phone and called an ambulance and the police.
The impostors were detained and convicted. Olga testified in court and watched for a long time as her ex-husband and his acquaintance were led away, pondering that if their lives had unfolded differently from the start, perhaps they would never have met in these walls. As Sergey was led away after sentencing, he whispered to her, “Forgive me. Don’t tell our son who his father is. Just say that I’m gone—that I died.”
Lyudmila declared in court that she regretted nothing, because the world belonged to those who had money, and she had merely borrowed someone else’s life to feel human for once.
Igor was operated on—after all, the bullet had reached his heart. He remained in a coma for a long time, and Olga visited him every day, along with her son. One day, while straightening his sheet, she heard a dull groan and the detective’s voice, “Is that you again?” Igor recovered and within a month was getting up from bed, wheeling little Bogdan around in a hospital playpen.
A relative of the deceased entrepreneurs, having found out where his aunt’s and brother’s bodies were hidden, buried them with dignity. He was assisted by Ekaterina, who had caught his eye, and a passionate romance sparked between them. Their son, Kirill, would soon be turning one. They often kept in touch with Olga and invited her to visit abroad.
After Igor emerged from the coma, he once again, just in case, admonished Olga for her carelessness and declared that he would henceforth monitor her every step. And he kept his word—three years have passed since they’ve been together—raising Bogdan, Artem, and little Katyenka. At first, Artem’s mother had schemed and prevented him from communicating with his son, but later, after meeting another suitor, she fled abroad, leaving the child with his father. Katyenka, by the way, is very much like her father—constantly frowning and staring sternly at her mother. And Olga vowed to herself that she would never turn a blind eye to any child’s suffering and would teach her own children to do the same.
