Alexandra sank heavily into a chair in the cramped storeroom of the “Blesk” cleaning company. The day had been packed—three apartments, a country house, and an office. Every step was a struggle: her back ached, her legs buzzed. She was only forty, but it felt like much more. She gave a sad smile to her thoughts and began changing out of her work uniform.
“How’s it going, are you getting used to it?” came the energetic voice of Lyudmila, her colleague, pulling Alexandra back to reality.
“Yeah, it’s fine for now, nothing special—I thought it would be harder.”
“Uh-huh, just wait! You haven’t yet faced real challenges,” Lyudmila said, nodding as if she were an expert on other people’s problems.
“You know, sometimes this happens… A ‘new Russian’ shows up. At first glance, everything looks decent—you think, what could be so special? But no! You arrive at the site and, oh my goodness! It’s like a whole company of soldiers having a week-long party without a break.”
To drive her point home, Lyudmila even gestured wildly with her hands. Alexandra snorted in disbelief:
“Come on, that can’t be true! And you handle that all by yourself?”
“What choice do I have?” Lyudmila spread her arms. “There aren’t enough people, and the owners demand impeccable cleanliness. Reputation is everything to them. So we have to pretend to be professionals. Believe me, you’ll see even more!”
“I suppose they wouldn’t trust me with such serious orders right away. Surely I’d have to undergo a probation period before they let me into the mansions?”
“Basically, yes,” agreed Lyudmila. “But you mustn’t relax. What if some unforeseen emergency happens. Alright, I have to go now—there’s a mountain of work! ” She grabbed her bag and left in a hurry, leaving only the clatter of her high heels behind.
Alexandra watched her go. Where did this woman, in her fifties, get so much energy? Not a minute did she sit still!
Alexandra’s life had not turned out as she had dreamed. Born without a father—her mother raised her alone, working until she dropped—she became pregnant at eighteen, out of foolishness. The young man vanished immediately. Her mother only sighed heavily: “I guess fate for us is this—women have to give birth and then just suffer.”
That’s when Alexandra decided: she wouldn’t suffer! As soon as her daughter turned two, she would find a job and start living on her own. But the years passed, and no decent man appeared. Every time she tentatively tried to start a relationship, the men pulled away as soon as they learned she had a child. They shied away from a single mother like devils from incense. Life was slipping right through her fingers.
One day, in a moment of despair, she asked her mother:
“Mom, who is my father? Was he perhaps rich or famous? Why do we live so poorly?”
Her mother looked at her strangely, paused for a moment, and then replied:
“He was rich, that’s for sure. Famous or not—I don’t know. It was I who decided to have you. He hadn’t planned on having a child.”
Alexandra understood everything. Her mother was right—you can’t impose yourself on someone who doesn’t need you or your child. You just have to manage on your own.
Things didn’t work out with her daughter either. As soon as the little one grew up, she drifted away from her mother. She longed for a different life. She left at the first opportunity, barely calling or visiting. Sometimes she asked for money, but there was no talk of meeting up.
And now her mother was gravely ill. Health problems—her legs were failing. Alexandra felt that she had a lot of work ahead to fund her mother’s treatment. Although she was over forty herself and could live a little for her own sake, that desire, to be honest, had almost disappeared. All her energy went into simply holding on and moving forward.
The loud slam of a door pulled Alexandra out of her reverie. How time flies when you’re lost in memories!
A worried Olga Sergeyevna, the wife of the owner of the cleaning company, burst into the storeroom:
“Alexandra, how great that you haven’t left yet! Listen, we have an urgent job. We don’t have anyone else. Are you free today?”
Alexandra blinked in surprise:
“Yes, Olga Sergeyevna, I was about to go home. What happened?”
“We need to clean an enormous house completely… In short, there’s no time for explanations, let’s get going!”
Alexandra only sighed and, grabbing her bag of things, hurried after her boss.
After passing through several corridors, they entered Olga Sergeyevna’s office. Seated across from her, Alexandra listened as Olga began to speak:
“I understand you’re new here, with little experience. But there’s no choice—you’ll have to go. This is an important client, and a lot depends on this order for the firm. I’m sure you can handle it!”
Alexandra nodded, understanding that refusal was not an option.
“Excellent!” Olga Sergeyevna exclaimed. “Here’s the deal: you need to get this mansion in order. It was the home of our client’s father, who recently passed away. Now everything personal must be removed to prepare the house for sale. I expect there won’t be much dirt—these people are wealthy. But there’s plenty of work.”
“How much time do I have?” Alexandra inquired.
“Four days. The client is already on site. Valentin will drive you there. Come on, hurry up!”
Alexandra raised her eyebrows in surprise. Olga Sergeyevna’s personal driver usually did not transport ordinary cleaning staff. However, the situation was exceptional. She obediently nodded.
“Wait,” her boss cautioned. “Be careful there. In rich houses, there are many temptations. Don’t even think about stealing anything—the consequences would be very serious. And you might never get another job in this field.”
Alexandra was stunned by the turn in the conversation. Anger began to simmer inside her:
“What are you saying, Olga Sergeyevna?! How can you even suggest that?!”
“Alright, don’t get heated,” Olga Sergeyevna murmured placatingly. “I just have to warn you. Besides, the payment is generous. Your mother is sick, isn’t she? You need the money for her treatment, right?”
Alexandra could only nod wearily. Her mother’s condition had indeed worsened, and the cost of medicine was astronomical. Principles had to be set aside here.
“Okay, run to the car! Valentin knows the address; they’re already waiting for you.”
Sure enough, the client awaited Alexandra at the massive gates of a luxurious three-story mansion. A dignified middle-aged man, dressed in a strict black suit with an inscrutable expression, stood there. His sullen gaze sent a slight chill through Alexandra.
“Listen,” the client began bluntly, “while you were on your way, I’ve made up my mind: the house must be completely cleared of all personal items. You have four days instead of two. Leave the dishes and vases as they are. But as for the clothing, photographs, and other trinkets—remove them without hesitation.”
Alexandra almost objected, thinking that among the items there might be valuable pieces or sentimental keepsakes. But she bit her tongue in time. It wasn’t her business. If it was said, then so be it.
Meanwhile, the client continued his instructions:
“After everything is ready, the house will be put up for sale. Its appearance must be impeccable. If you find something truly valuable—jewelry, gold—immediately let me know.”
Alexandra nodded obediently.
“Alright, get to work. I’ll inspect the result in four days,” he snapped, then turned and headed toward his car.
She watched him go thoughtfully and began her work. Walking around the mansion, she decided to start on the second floor. At first glance, the rooms were in perfect condition. The office, apparently the owner’s favorite spot, was especially impressive. Everything shone; items were in their places, and only a thin layer of dust and cobwebs betrayed the long absence of residents.
The bedrooms, however, presented more serious challenges. The closets, seemingly overstuffed like barns, threatened to collapse under the weight of clothes and boxes. With a sigh, she went down to the first floor to get trash bags and prepared herself for a long day’s work.
By nightfall, Valentin came for her, calling out from the hall, but she asked him to wait a little.
“Perhaps that’s enough for today,” she thought, approaching the last closet. “I’ll start unpacking, and finish tomorrow.”
Lifting a chair, she stood on tiptoe to reach the top shelf. And then her eyes fell on a small, very ordinary box.
Curiosity got the better of her. She carefully retrieved the find and, holding her breath, lifted the lid. Inside were old photographs and several documents.
The first picture made her freeze. It showed a young, beautiful mother—a version of her mother Alexandra had never seen before: radiant, smiling. With trembling hands, she began sifting through the other photos. There was a picture of her mother with a man—tall, elegant. She had already seen his portrait downstairs in the hall. And another photo showed herself as a little, chubby baby. This was the photo she had kept at home.
Her mind raced. Why were there family photos here? Who was this man beside her mother? Could he be her father?
Her hands shook so much that she could barely unfold the documents. The first one turned out to be a will, covered in stamps and signatures. Scanning the text, Alexandra gasped and sank back into the chair, drained.
It turned out that the owner of the house—the very man in the photograph—was her father! The will stated that many years ago, against his own will, he had left the woman he loved and his child. All those years he suffered in remorse but dared not interfere in their lives. Sensing his end approaching, he decided to secure the future for his daughter and her mother, leaving them the mansion, a substantial sum of money, and an apartment.
Alexandra’s head spun. Could it really be true? No doubt—the names, the dates all matched. So her father hadn’t simply abandoned them? He had loved them? Then why had he never appeared before? How much could have changed over the years!
A sudden bang and Valentin’s voice brought her out of her stupor:
“Hey, Alexandra, are you almost done? You alive over there?”
“Yes, I’m coming down now!” she replied, hastily stuffing the papers into her bag.
On the way home, she fell silent, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. She didn’t even notice when she got out of the car and climbed the steps. Only when her mother began to speak did she realize where she was:
“Sasha, darling, what’s wrong with you? You seem off. Did something happen?”
Slowly, Alexandra sank onto the sofa next to her mother, took a deep breath, and blurted out:
“Mom, we need to talk. Today, I found out something about my father.”
Her mother froze, her face contorting with worry:
“Oh my, Sasha, what are you saying? So many years have passed… And surely he’s already dead…”
“Exactly, he’s not alive!” Alexandra pulled the photographs and documents from her bag, handing them to her mother.
Her mother put on her glasses and examined the pictures carefully. Recognition, astonishment, and deep pain washed over her face in sequence. Taking the will, she slowly skimmed the text, intermittently wiping away tears. Finally, she put the paper down and softly said:
“Victor and I loved each other madly. We dreamed of being together all our lives. But he wasn’t born into our world… His family was rich and influential.”
She paused, gathering her thoughts:
“When our relationship became known, his parents were furious. It was a disgrace to them. They decided to marry him off to a girl from a respectable family, who already had a child from a previous marriage. And by that time, you were already growing inside me…”
Her mother sniffled, and Alexandra squeezed her hand tightly, barely holding back her own tears.
“When the truth came out, Victor resisted for a long time. He didn’t want that wedding. He knew I was waiting for you alone. But his father set the condition: either the wedding happens, or they’d crush us. What could we do?”
“We spent the whole night talking. We cried, we thought… and we decided that the best option was to part ways. He promised to help, but I refused. I was too proud, too foolish…”
Now her mother stroked Alexandra’s arm, while Alexandra’s trembling shoulders released silent sobs. How unfairly everything had turned out! They had loved each other, wanted a family, but fate had decreed otherwise.
“Mom, you see… He didn’t abandon us. It was just the circumstances. He thought of us his entire life! He wanted to help, even if only at the end. We received everything he could leave us.”
“Oh, Sasha, I just don’t know…” her mother sighed. “So many years have passed. There are probably other heirs out there.”
“But we’ll fight for it!” Alexandra declared firmly. “Tomorrow, I’ll see a lawyer. I’ll get to the bottom of everything. We’ll fight for what’s ours, Mom—for what Dad did for us.”
The legal battles dragged on for nearly six months. The women fought desperately for the inheritance, proving their kinship with the late man. At times, it seemed victory was impossible—other claimants were too powerful and influential.
Then one day, unexpectedly, Olga Sergeyevna sided with them:
“Sasha, forgive me, you old fool! I didn’t understand the whole story at first. But once I looked into it, everything became clear. My husband and I went through a similar situation. Back then, his relatives were also against our marriage. They threatened to strip us of our inheritance, to throw us out of the house. But he stood firm, enduring everything for me. We won back then, despite everything. And you, forty years ago, had it even harder. Don’t worry, Sasha, we’ll make it through! We’ll fight until the end!”
And they did win. The court recognized Alexandra and her mother as the rightful heirs. To their astonishment, they received not only the mansion but also a substantial sum of money, an expensive car, and even an apartment—of which no one had known.
“So that’s our first apartment!” her mother exclaimed upon hearing about it. “We used to rent it from an old lady when I secretly met with Victor. Looks like he later bought it for us…”
“Great, Mom! You know what? Let’s give this apartment to Milka. To your granddaughter, my unruly daughter. It seems she’s turning her life around—she’s found a job. Let her live there and start her own family.”
Her mother agreed happily. A few days later, she called Alexandra and her granddaughter:
“Girls, shall we go to the cemetery today? I want to visit Victor.”
At the beautiful marble monument, her mother sank to her knees, unable to hold back her tears:
“Hello, Vitenka. I’m sorry I came so late…”
“After so many lost years, we never got to say goodbye. But what can you do now? I’ll join you soon. Just wait a little longer…”
Alexandra tried not to listen to her mother’s words. Her heart tightened with unspoken pain. Meanwhile, Milka held her grandmother’s hand tightly, also struggling to stifle her tears.
When her mother, unsteady on her feet, headed out of the cemetery, Alexandra lingered by the tombstone. She couldn’t bring herself to leave. She wanted to stay there for at least a minute, to speak with the person she had never known.
Shaking her head and casting one last look at the monument, she hurried to catch up with her family:
“Well, girls, time to go home? There’s still so much to do ahead!”