— Aliska! — a loud, hoarse voice of the stepfather sounded from deep inside the apartment.
“Awake,” the girl thought heavily. “Here it comes again…”
Quickly looking around, she grabbed a hoodie, threw it over her shoulders, and ran out of the house into the yard.
— Ali, where are you going? — came the weak voice of her grandmother. — Not for long, grandma!
At the entrance, two neighbors watched the girl anxiously: — Is he causing trouble again?
Alisa just waved back without malice. Maybe she could wait out his morning irritability somewhere on the street.
She slowly walked along the sidewalk leading to the nearby store, occasionally kicking small stones. The same thought kept playing over and over in her head:
“If only mom were alive… He wouldn’t treat me like this.”
Alisa’s mother, Anna, had passed away a year ago. A drunk driver had dozed off at the wheel, and his car crashed at full speed into a public transport stop. Alisa’s mother and three other people died on the spot. Several passengers were seriously injured. The culprit only woke up when rescuers surrounded him.
After the funeral, the question arose: who would take care of the girl? Her grandfather and grandmother decisively refused.
— We are too old to raise a teenager, — the grandmother said. — Modern kids are not easy at all. And our health is not what it used to be… — Please say something, — the woman pleaded, addressing her husband. — We won’t manage. Let her stay with Dima, he adopted her anyway.
Dmitry, Anna’s husband, had indeed officially adopted Alisa after her birth. But he never considered her his real daughter. He didn’t hurt her, just ignored her. At first, the little girl called him “dad,” but one day he said sternly:
— I’m not your dad. Call me Uncle Dima, got it?
Alisa wanted to ask her mother who her real father was, but her mother only joked off the question. After her mother’s death, Dmitry began drinking more often.
When the girl turned seven, the start of school was inevitable.
— More than half my salary goes to you, — the stepfather grumbled, throwing a new backpack stuffed with textbooks, notebooks, and stationery on the bed. — Now it’s time to help. You’ll cook yourself, cleaning is your job too. Basically, the household is on you.
“Well, of course, who else but me,” Alisa thought, but silently nodded to avoid conflict.
Then Dmitry began sending her to the store for groceries, having arranged with the cashier not to ask too many questions. At first, Alisa was ashamed, but over time she got used to it. She also got used to how the cashier sometimes slipped her something tasty — out of kindness.
And now again she was walking the familiar path to the store, crossing the parking lot. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an object. It looked like a mobile phone.
Looking back, Alisa approached and picked it up from the ground.
— Wow! — she was surprised. — And it’s not even scratched!
She pressed the power button — a miracle! The phone turned on, and the screen was not locked. The girl sat down on a bench near the store and opened the contact list. Most were company names with abbreviations LLC or JSC, then surnames. Finally, she found: “Wife.” She dialed the number.
After a few rings, someone answered.
— Hello, good afternoon! I found your husband’s phone, — Alisa said calmly. — Hello. How did you know who to call? — It wasn’t locked. That’s how I found you, — the girl explained. — Okay. Where are you now? I’ll come for him. — Sure, just don’t check anything else, okay?! — Alisa was a little offended. — Alright, alright. I’m already coming.
She gave the address and hung up. As soon as the phone went dark, it vibrated. On the screen appeared: “Shnobel.” Alisa involuntarily laughed. She remembered such a boy from kindergarten with a big nose, whom the stepfather called “nose bug Shnobel.”
— Hello, — she answered. — This is my phone! I’m calling through a friend now. — Ah, from Shnobel? — Exactly! So you said the wife is coming? — She’s almost here. Coming now. — Wait, what’s your name? — Alisa. — Okay, Alisa. Don’t give her the phone. I’ll be there soon. Where can I find you?
The girl started to explain but was interrupted:
— I know where you are. I was there an hour ago, you probably dropped it while getting into the car. Wait!
The call ended. Alisa hid the phone under her hoodie and started waiting. After a while, a red foreign car pulled up, and a beautiful woman got out. Alisa even froze in admiration. The woman looked around and headed toward her.
— Hi, are you the one who called me? — No, she stepped aside. Said she’d be back in a minute. — What an impatient person! — the woman grumbled irritably. — I’m in a hurry anyway! — I wonder, where to? — came a mocking male voice from behind us.
Turning around, the woman saw a tall man with dark hair. His face was serious, eyes lively and slightly mocking.
— Not here for money from my card? — he continued. — You probably rushed here like a rocket when you heard the phone wasn’t locked? — Well, well! — she tried to joke, but it was clear the man hit the mark.
He sat next to Alisa.
— Hi! Thanks for finding my phone. You’re a very decent girl. Tell your mom about this — let her be proud of you. — I don’t have a mom, — Alisa whispered, lowering her eyes.
She unzipped her hoodie and took out the phone. The man reached out his hand but suddenly froze. His gaze fell on the pendant on her neck — a small maple leaf in resin with a ladybug at the base.
The woman’s face tensed when she saw the expression on his face. He closed his eyes as if trying to escape memories, and opening them again, every muscle on his face seemed to protest what he saw.
— Where did you get this pendant? — he asked coldly, carefully picking it up with two fingers. The touch caused him painful reaction, and he quickly let go of the jewelry. Alisa jumped back in fear.
— My mom gave it to me when she was alive… Okay, I have to go home.
She jumped off the bench and ran away. But the man called after her:
— Wait! My name is Roman Maksimovich. How can I thank you? — Nothing is needed. Goodbye.
Alisa walked away, thinking: “Why did he react so strangely to my pendant?”
She remembered how her mom put it on her neck when the girl was five:
— Foxling, may it bring you happiness like it did me. — What kind of happiness did it bring you? — You, silly! You are my happiness!
And Anna twirled her daughter around the room, laughing and kissing her cheeks.
Alisa walked on, unaware that Roman was following her — carefully, at a safe distance. He had sent his wife home and now felt an inexplicable pull to this girl.
When Alisa passed by grandmothers sitting on a bench and disappeared into the entrance, Roman approached them:
— Good evening, excuse me. Can you tell me which apartment the girl who just went inside lives in?
— Who are you? — one asked suspiciously. — Just wanted to return the money. She dropped a thousand at the store, and I didn’t manage to return it immediately. Look, here’s the bill.
— Ah, then it’s a different matter! — the grandmothers softened. — Poor Aliska, with such a stepfather… He must have bothered her again today. Go up, give her the money.
And they told him everything they knew about the girl’s family. At that moment, the sound of breaking dishes and a drunken shout came from above…
— Aliska, you brat! Where have you been?! — the hoarse, irritated voice of the stepfather rang out from the corridor. — I’ll break your ears!
Roman literally flew up to the right floor in seconds and began knocking on the door. In a moment, it opened by itself. Dmitry stood in the doorway — gaunt, with red eyes, smelling of alcohol.
— Who’s this? What do you want? — he growled, sizing Roman up.
Roman didn’t even answer. He simply pushed the man aside and went inside. Looking into the room, he saw Alisa curled up in the corner of the sofa. She looked up at him — and met a gaze full of warmth and care. Without a word, she stood, took his hand, and walked toward the exit.
But Dmitry intercepted them at the very doorstep.
— Where are you going?! — he tried to growl, but his voice broke into a cough.
Roman calmly placed his palm on his forehead, pressed lightly — and Dmitry, losing balance, slowly sank to the floor.
— Did you kill him? — Alisa whispered fearfully, casting a worried glance at the motionless stepfather. — What are you talking about! You can’t kill a man like that so easily, — Roman smiled softly. — He’ll sleep it off and get up. Did he hurt you?
The girl shook her head. No, Dmitry was not a villain. He was just a man who couldn’t handle his pain. Her mother’s best friend, Larisa, often asked the same question.
— Alisa, my girl, — she said after the funeral. — Here’s my number. If he starts bothering you — call me immediately. Don’t stay home one minute longer than necessary!
Later, Larisa came several times herself until one day Dmitry met her drunk:
— Are you trying to rent an apartment here?! We can handle things ourselves! Get out!
Since then, the woman waited for Alisa only outside.
Roman’s and his wife’s house amazed Alisa. It wasn’t huge, but inside there was everything: light, coziness, beauty like in a magazine. She had never seen such a place before.
Irina met them in casual clothes but even in them seemed somehow unattainably beautiful. Her voice sounded gentle, but her eyes had no warmth.
— Hello again, — she said, escorting Alisa to the room. — This will be your temporary home.
The word “temporary” stabbed her heart. “And then what? Orphanage?” flashed in her thoughts. But Alisa decided she would run away at the first opportunity.
The room was bigger than her entire previous apartment. There was a bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers, computer, TV, and a large full-length mirror. The girl sat on the windowsill looking outside when someone gently knocked on the door.
— May I come in? — asked Roman. — Of course.
He entered, closed the door, and looked at her seriously:
— I need to know more about your mom. What was her name? What did she do? Did she have friends? Maybe someone who remembers her well?
His face was focused, almost reverent. Alisa told him everything she knew and gave Larisa’s phone number. Roman listened carefully, nodding from time to time. At one point, she thought his eyes glistened, but she brushed the thought away.
— Thank you, — he said, stroking her head. — Make yourself comfortable. When dinner is ready, I’ll call you. Everything here is yours.
Alisa watched some TV, explored the room, then decided to inspect the house. Approaching the kitchen, she overheard a conversation between Roman and Irina. The woman was clearly unhappy.
— Why did you bring her here? Now you’ll save everyone? And what if the stepfather calls the police? What then? — Come on! We’re just helping a child. You should see where she lives. Nobody can live there. — The stepfather is not the father. Are you sure you want to get involved? — I don’t want to. But I’m already involved. And I can’t turn away. — Then let her pay you for the phone and leave. Nothing else! — Sometimes I wonder why I even married you? — Because I’m smart, beautiful, and practical. Someone has to think for both of us, — Irina replied dryly.
Roman just shook his head and changed the subject to food:
— I’ll go feed Alisa.
Hearing her name, the girl dashed back to the room and sat in front of the TV, pretending she had been there the whole time. One thing was clear: Irina was no friend. She needed to be careful with her.
After dinner, Alisa returned to her room and pondered. At home, she always knew what to expect from the stepfather. But here… she felt like a stranger.
Meanwhile, Roman dialed Larisa’s number and wrote:
“Larisa, it’s about Alisa and her mother. Need to talk. Half an hour at the cafe?”
The reply came almost immediately. They agreed to meet.
At the cafe, Roman immediately recognized Larisa — she sat by the window, and her eyes showed no irritation or suspicion. Only calm and interest.
— Are you Larisa? Roman. I’m the one who wrote to you, — he introduced himself, approaching the table.
The woman looked at him as if measuring him against memories and smiled:
— Hello. How can I help?
He sat opposite, a little nervous, and began:
— You knew Anna well? — We were close. Very close. — Then I’ll tell you a story. And you tell me if you knew about it.
Larisa got comfortable to listen carefully.
— Eight years ago, I met a girl… It was love at first sight. I met her in a field where locals gathered hay. I worked in a workshop making things from epoxy resin. And she stood among the grass — tall, flexible, with long hair. Her name was Anya.
I came to her every day. We walked, talked… I didn’t rush anything. And when she decided — it happened.
Then she disappeared. No one could explain where. Maybe her parents took her away, or she went to a monastery — nonsense. But before that, I gave her a pendant. A maple leaf she found on the road. I sealed it with resin, added a ladybug, and made a cord. She was happy like a child.
And today I saw this pendant on Alisa’s neck. I know her mother died. But maybe she has a real father? Maybe it’s worth finding him?
Roman paused, waiting for a reaction. Larisa looked at him, and her expression changed. As if a sudden realization lit up her thoughts.
— Now I’ll tell you, — she began, taking his hand in hers. — Anya and I became friends when she was already married to Dmitry and raising little Alisa. We quickly became close friends — maybe because we were both lonely. She had a husband, I had no one.
One day, she didn’t go to her mother’s birthday. Relatives started calling and reproaching. Anya turned off the phone and came to me. She sat in the kitchen crying.
— They want me to smile at them! — she said. — But I can’t. Mom destroyed my life. Dad always indulged her. But I loved another man. Loved him painfully. He was older but so caring and kind. He came to me almost every day. Gave me a pendant… a maple leaf found on the road…
She showed it to me. I immediately understood — it was a unique thing made with soul.
Then she went to check if Alisa was asleep and continued:
— He wanted us to be together. But I didn’t dare. Mom was categorically against it. She said he wasn’t from our circle. That he was just a village craftsman. That he meant nothing. But he meant everything to me…
“When I found out I was pregnant by him, I was so happy I almost went crazy,” Larisa continued. — But when I told mom, she was furious. She said: ‘Father will be furious! Your poor lover is a disgrace to the family. And now a child — it’s a catastrophe!’ She demanded I abort. I refused.
Then she suggested I marry the son of the family’s rich friends. So no one would guess the child wasn’t his. I didn’t know how to resist but tried. Said I’d find a way to tell him about our daughter.”
— If you do that, you’ll never see her again, — her mother said firmly then. — And if you marry Dmitry, he’ll adopt the child. No one will ever know she’s not real. His father is a person of influence; everything can be arranged.
Anya returned home already married, with a child in her arms. She never named Alisa’s father. But I know: she loved him until her last day. It’s a pity fate was so cruel to her…
Larisa looked at Roman, waiting for his reaction. The room was tense. He sat motionless as if something inside him began to collapse and rebuild.
— Wait… — he finally said, voice trembling. — So… Alisa is my daughter?!
At that moment Roman’s phone beeped. The screen showed: Wife. He sighed, digesting what he heard, but quickly answered:
— What?.. How is it — missing?! I took her from home when that guy was yelling at her and chasing her for vodka! We had dinner, she watched TV… And now she’s gone?
Roman jumped to his feet.
— Maybe she just left? — he asked, trying not to panic. — I don’t know… But if she didn’t come back to you, maybe she’s here, at my place, — Larisa decisively headed to the exit, motioning Roman to follow.
They quickly went outside. Larisa looked around the parking lot.
— You have a car? — Yes, but probably faster on foot.
The woman pulled him along. A few minutes later, they entered the entrance of her building. On the stair landing, sitting on the windowsill with legs dangling, was Alisa.
— My girl! — Larisa exclaimed and hugged the girl.
Alisa burst into tears, burying her face in her stomach:
— Aunt Larisa, I don’t know what to do!
Larisa soothingly stroked her head, whispering that everything would work out. Then gently nudged the suddenly silent girl toward her apartment. Only after entering did Alisa notice Roman.
She looked questioningly at Larisa. The woman just nodded.
All three entered the cozy cool hallway. Roman immediately realized: the woman lived alone. The place had a feminine atmosphere — neatness, order, no signs of male presence.
Larisa was silent. It wasn’t her choice to speak or not. Let Roman decide: to tell the truth or not. She knew only one thing — the girl deserved a real father.
— Alisa, — Roman finally spoke, — I need to tell you something important. Something that will change not only my life but yours too.
— You’ll send me to an orphanage anyway? — the girl’s lips trembled, her eyes filled with tears.
— God, no! — Larisa exclaimed, barely holding back her emotions.
Roman gathered his courage and said:
— I’m your father. Your real father. I didn’t know you were born. I only found out now… when I saw the pendant I gave your mom many years ago.
Alisa froze. Larisa turned away to hide her tears. The room was filled with tension, full of pain and hope at the same time.
Again, the phone rang. On the screen flashed the word “Wife.”
— Well? Found her? — came the angry voice of Irina. — If yes, then hurry up and send her back. And really, how dare she behave like that!
— Irina, — Roman said firmly, — Alisa is my daughter. Please choose your words carefully.
— What?! What are you talking about?! Are you crazy?! Drop everything and come home immediately!
— Either you drop that tone, or we will learn to communicate differently, — he answered coldly and hung up.
— Looks like I was dumped, — he said, almost cheerfully, looking at Larisa and Alisa. — Maybe tomorrow we’ll order a cake and celebrate? Today is better to rest a little. So, daughter, shall we go home?
Alisa still couldn’t grasp what had happened. It was unusual for her to hear the word “dad.” But she liked this man. She liked him ever since that very store. Even earlier — when he called from Shnobel’s friend’s phone.
Later Roman met Dmitry.
— Listen, why don’t you sign the custody refusal yourself, so we don’t delay the process? — he asked. — Besides, you never really considered her your own anyway. And you could return to a normal life. You’re a good mechanic, why not start over?
Dmitry was silent for a long time, then took a pen, signed the document shortly, and handed it back.
— It was hell… — he said quietly before leaving. — Especially after I realized: she loves him, not me. Maybe now it will be easier for me too…
They shook hands. Later Roman learned Dmitry had indeed found himself again. Returned to work, met a kind woman, and they had twins.
A few weeks later, Roman managed to officially establish paternity — connections and persistence helped. Before that, he talked with Alisa:
— Now that you know the whole truth, you can choose yourself: do you want to take my surname and patronymic or keep the old ones? It’s your choice.
After thinking for a bit, the girl smiled and said:
— I want to take your surname.
A few months later, Roman divorced Irina. And some time after, he proposed to Larisa. She agreed.
And now — in one cozy house, where one woman once lived alone, sat a small family at the table. The sun shone outside the window, and it seemed that for the first time in many years, it had truly become warm.
