Young and talented surgeon Ivan Sergeyevich Murashin, who had already established himself as one of the most promising specialists in his clinic, had long been accustomed to the instability and unpredictability of his work schedule. For him, night calls had become almost a second name — they meant one thing: he was being called back to the hospital, where every minute was priceless. He had just finished his 24-hour shift when he had to get ready again, postponing rest because somewhere nearby, someone needed his help.
Ivan lay in bed, but sleep was already slipping away as soon as the phone started ringing. He opened his eyes, slowly sat up, struggling to hold back a yawn, and rubbed his face, trying to wake up. The call wasn’t random — it was the duty nurse, Oksana Vitalyevna. The young doctor took the receiver, trying to sound energetic, although his body still begged for rest:
— Hello, good evening, Oksana Vitalyevna. Yes, I’m listening. No, I wasn’t sleeping, — he smiled, trying to ease the tension, — I’m on my way now. Already en route.
His car stood outside, as always — not in the garage. This had become something of a ritual since he started working in the emergency department. Because at any time, even late at night, he could be called out, and he had to be ready. No time to get ready, no time for doubts — only an instant reaction and full concentration.
— Vanya, you’re leaving again? — his mother, 52-year-old Vera Dmitrievna Murashina, came out of the bedroom. Her voice carried a slight worry, but there was a familiarity and understanding in it. She had long accepted that her son had chosen the difficult path of a surgeon.
— Yes, Mom, urgent surgery. I have to assist Karpakov. Most likely, I won’t be back until morning — it’s a complicated case, — he answered, trying to speak calmly, although inside he was already preparing for the upcoming battle for someone’s life.
— How can I sleep now? — sighed Vera Dmitrievna, coming closer. — Vanya, you know I will always wait for you, and it’s hard for me not to know how everything went with you.
— Mom, don’t say that. You shouldn’t lose sleep because of me. I chose this profession consciously, and night calls are part of my life. I don’t want you to suffer because of it.
— Son, let me decide when to suffer, okay? — the woman replied softly but firmly, remembering how many times in the past she stood by the window waiting for her son to come home.
— Deal, — Ivan nodded, hugged his mother, kissed her on the cheek, and quickly headed to the door. Within minutes, his car was already leaving the yard, carrying him into a night full of unknowns.
At the emergency hospital, preparations for the operation began. The surgical team had gathered and was ready to start. When Ivan entered the operating room, he was met by the head of the department, 60-year-old Igor Ilyich Karpakov — an experienced surgeon who tolerated no delays and forgave no mistakes.
— Vanya, why so late? — he asked sternly, not hiding his irritation.
— Igor Ilyich, just fifteen minutes, I drove as fast as I could, — the young doctor excused himself.
— Male, around 55-60 years old, multiple lacerated wounds, heavy blood loss. Rescuers brought him by helicopter. Most likely, attacked by an animal, — Karpakov said without unnecessary words, going straight to the point.
— What attacked him? — Ivan asked, feeling anxiety rising inside.
— Bear, — the senior surgeon replied briefly, and the doctors headed to the operating table.
As soon as Ivan saw the patient, his heart stopped. The man’s appearance was emaciated, covered with abrasions and dirt, but in this tortured body, he recognized someone familiar. It was his father — Sergey Alekseyevich Murashin, who had disappeared thirteen years ago. Time had changed his face but not the essence — this was the man whom he and his mother had long considered dead.
But there was no time for emotions. The operation began, and Ivan switched to the part of himself he had learned to use in the toughest situations — a cold, collected, professional mechanism capable of maintaining control even in chaos. His soul seemed frozen, and his thoughts lined up in strict order. He knew that if he let himself weaken now, it could cost the patient his life.
The operation lasted several hours. When everything was done, and the patient was transferred to the intensive care unit, Ivan left the operating room with a heavy heart and his phone in hand. He called his mother. She answered almost immediately, her voice trembling with excitement.
— Son, how did it go?
— Everything is fine, Mom. The operation was successful. The patient is in serious but stable condition.
— Thank God… — she exhaled with relief, but added — Why does your voice sound so strange? Are you crying?
— Mom, I’ll tell you something now, but you have to promise not to panic. It’s good news, but very unexpected.
— Speak already, don’t torture me! — Vera Dmitrievna begged.
— No, better I’ll come home and tell you everything in person. Please wait for me.
— No, son. You intrigued me — now tell me!
— Alright… Today’s patient is alive. We did everything possible. The organs are intact, there will be scars, but he will survive. And… this person… he’s someone you know. He’s ours.
— It can’t be… — Vera Dmitrievna whispered, — You mean… is it him?
— Yes, Mom. It’s Dad. He’s alive.
The woman covered her face with her hands, trying to hold back tears. She couldn’t believe her ears. So many years of waiting, so much pain, and here — he had returned.
— I’m coming now, — she said, already getting ready.
But before leaving the house, she called her son again:
— Listen carefully. Don’t tell anyone that he’s alive. Especially Uncle Andrey. Promise me.
— Why? — Ivan didn’t understand.
— I’ll explain at home. Just promise.
Twenty minutes later, Vera Dmitrievna rushed into the hospital, ignoring the administrator’s protests. She was stopped by a tall, elegant woman — Elizaveta Mikhailovna Savelieva, a cardiologist who knew the Murashin family well.
— Vera Dmitrievna, Vanya is resting now. Come with me; I’ll take you to him.
— Lizochka, hello, I need to see Vanya. It’s urgent.
Elizaveta nodded understandingly and led the woman through the hospital corridors. Ten minutes later, mother and son stood by the intensive care viewing window. Sergey Alekseyevich lay with closed eyes, and Vera, unable to contain her emotions, pressed her forehead to the glass.
Ivan was silent. He knew that his mother was experiencing a storm of memories. And then, as if in response to her silent request, thoughts rushed back to the past, to the day when it all began…
1988.
Fifteen-year-old Vera Nefedova, daughter of a famous professor, for the first time went downtown without parental supervision. It was an important step in her young life. Together with her friend Emma Tselinskaya, they were heading to the May Day demonstration and then planned to visit the amusement park and an ice cream cafe.
Vera was raised strictly but with love. She loved classical music, attended the opera, read Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. Emma was quite the opposite — free-spirited, daring, interested in fashion and Western culture. They were friends despite their differences because Vera was generous, and Emma was charismatic.
At the demonstration, they met two boys — 17-year-old cousins Sergey Murashin and Andrey Khaynetsky. Sergey was quiet, thoughtful, with kind eyes. Andrey was more decisive, self-confident. Vera felt something special with Sergey. They had something more than just acquaintance. It was love, which later turned into a family, a life, loss, and now, a return.
— Well, Vera, I beg you, — Emma pleaded. — Are you my friend or not? If you refuse, it’s over between us.
— Break friendship over some boys? — Vera’s eyes widened in surprise. She thought Emma was joking.
— Not just any, but the best. More precisely, one is Sergey, he’s mine, and the other is Andrey — yours. Agreed? — whispered Tselinskaya.
— I don’t need anyone. Take them both, — Vera laughed. — Honestly, none of them interest me. Em, let’s just go together? We were going to the amusement park and cafe anyway. Why do we need those two?
— But what if I fell in love at first sight? — Emma squinted. — Then you won’t even support me?
Vera sighed heavily. Of course, she agreed. But otherwise, she would never have gone on a date with those boys.
During the meeting, Emma literally fluttered around Sergey, but it was clear he was not very pleased. Whenever he could, he glanced at tall, somewhat angular Vera. But the plump, pretty Emma was clearly not to his liking.
Tselinskaya noticed this but was angry not at Sergey but at Vera, who honestly followed the rules and walked beside Andrey. Andrey himself was indifferent to both girls and was unhappy all evening.
This acquaintance marked the beginning of discord between close friends. Emma didn’t talk to Vera for a week, and Vera didn’t understand why. It turned out she was jealous. At first, Nefedova tried to reconcile, but then gave up: “If she doesn’t want to — so be it.”
Only then did Vera feel relief. She realized that her relationship with Emma was becoming unbearable. Her friend was always dissatisfied, constantly manipulative, making claims, and accepting no one’s opinion but her own.
Vera relaxed and began to do what she liked. Previously, she had to adjust to Emma, now she didn’t care. Summer came, and Vera regretted missing the theater season. But it was nothing — the Nefedov family usually spent summer at their country house, and now they had left the city too.
Vera’s mother died when she was still little. She was raised by her father — 60-year-old Dmitry Yuryevich, a doctor and professor — and her maternal grandmother — 75-year-old Zoya Makarovna Sayapina. It was the grandmother, who worked for many years as a director at the Pioneer House, who instilled a love of art and theater in her granddaughter.
Her father raised her between surgeries and meetings, practically relying entirely on his mother-in-law. Their shared grief after Natalia’s death, Vera’s mother, bound them. After her passing, Zoya moved in with her son-in-law and took care of her granddaughter. That’s how they lived: the professor never remarried, focusing entirely on work and his daughter.
In autumn, returning from the country house, Vera unexpectedly got a call from Emma:
— Hi, girlfriend! You forgot about me completely. No calls all summer.
— I was at the country house, you know, — Vera answered calmly.
— Maybe we should meet? I have news that will blow you away!
— What for? — Vera asked doubtfully. She didn’t want to renew relations, especially after all the offenses. She was already used to being alone, without constant reproaches and dissatisfaction.
— Come on, — Emma laughed. — What’s past is past… I’m coming soon, put the kettle on.
Actually, Tselinskaya had long wanted to reconcile. First, she had started dating Sergey — or so she thought. Only the first kiss remained to push him toward. For example, by wearing a blue dress with roses. But it hung in Vera’s wardrobe, and she was out of town.
Now Emma had not only no one to borrow clothes from but also no shoulder to cry on. Only Vera always listened, understood, and felt. A true friend.
Tselinskaya immediately announced she was dating Sergey and invited her friend to the cinema in the evening:
— Let’s go; all our people will be there. Sergey will come with his brother. By the way, Andrey mentioned you several times. I think he likes you, — she winked playfully.
— Emma, I don’t need him. What do I need him for? We have nothing in common, — Vera was surprised.
— What do you mean nothing? Date! You’re in tenth grade, and you still don’t have a boyfriend. All the girls at school date someone, and you only sit in the library.
— So what? Date the first stranger? I don’t need that, and besides — I don’t care that other girls date. I’m not a follower, — Vera was upset.
— Don’t pretend you’re special and look down on others…
Barely starting to reconcile, the friends almost quarreled again but stopped in time. Neither suspected that the next conflict would be the last in their friendship.
A crowd gathered near the cinema — tickets to the premiere were scarce. The girls were lost but soon the boys called them. As soon as Sergey and Andrey approached, for the younger Murashin the whole world turned upside down. It was her — the girl from his dreams. The very Vera he had seen in spring and since then could not forget.
It was for her that he agreed to be friends with Emma, hoping to see Vera again. And now he would not miss his chance.
— Vera, can I talk to you for a minute? We need to talk, — Sergey said, taking her hand and leading her aside. Andrey and Emma exchanged looks.
— Where is he taking her? — Tselinskaya wondered.
— To the registry office, — Andrey smirked but seeing Emma’s face, he fell silent. — I see you really don’t love your friend, huh?
— None of your business, — Emma snapped.
— Mine or not — but now you will hate her even more. He loves her. And that’s another thing that can bring us closer.
— What are you talking about? — Tselinskaya frowned.
— Sergey chose between you two, and the choice wasn’t in your favor, beauty. Meet me tomorrow at noon at the “Minutka” cafe. We’ll discuss the plan. In short: I’ll do everything to spite Sergey. Take the girl, marry her — even if I don’t love her. The main thing is to hurt him.
— But he’s your brother. Why do you hate him?
— Because Mom used to bring scraps from the Murashin’s table. Because I wore clothes from his shoulders. Because all our life we were poor relatives, pitied by others. You know how humiliating that pity is?
Emma looked at Andrey wide-eyed. At that moment, she suddenly realized: they were cut from the same cloth. They shared one feeling — jealousy and a desire for revenge…
— Will you help me? — Emma asked quietly.
— No, we’ll help each other. That’s more accurate, — Andrey smiled and sharply tugged her hand, warning that Sergey and Vera were already returning.
Emma immediately noticed Sergey was embarrassed, and Vera’s cheeks were burning. She realized her friend felt awkward, and Murashin clearly had no intention of stopping. What could embarrass Vera so much? Most likely, words of admiration and compliments. Emma’s heart pounded fiercely with rage and resentment.
She barely watched the movie that evening. Throughout the session, she glanced at Sergey, then at Vera. Their looks spoke louder than words. Without waiting for tomorrow’s meeting at the cafe, on the way home, Emma whispered to Andrey:
— I agree.
In autumn, near Professor Nefedov’s house, one could often see a Jawa motorcycle on which a medical student, a family friend and longtime acquaintance — Sergey Murashin — arrived.
The professor liked him, and grandmother Zoya Makarovna simply adored the young man. She saw perfectly how Sergey loved Vera, but Vera stubbornly pretended that nothing serious was between them.
After school, Vera enrolled in the university’s directing faculty, and Emma hoped: “Now Vera will definitely leave our company.” Guess where Emma herself went? Of course, she chose the pharmaceutical faculty to be closer to her beloved Sergey.
She wanted to enter the medical faculty but didn’t have enough points. She had to settle for pharmacology. Medicine was deeply unpleasant to her, but for Sergey, she was ready to endure even daily chemistry lectures.
At the same time, Vera remained a constant pain for Emma. Her hatred grew daily, but she had to pretend they were still best friends. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be allowed into the Nefedov home at all. Especially annoying was old Zoya Makarovna — a very perceptive woman:
— You shouldn’t bring her here, Vera, — the grandmother said sternly once. — If I were you, I wouldn’t let Emma anywhere near. Why does she keep hanging around here? She interferes with you and Sergey being together.
— Grandma, stop… — blushed the granddaughter. — We don’t want to be together! Sergey just comes to Dad. He’s going to work as his assistant after university.
— He’s going to become your husband, and only then an assistant, — sighed Zoya Makarovna. — A good guy, Verushka. Loving. Don’t lose him. And that one, his brother Andrey, and your “best friend” — chase them away.
— Why are they mortal enemies? — Vera was surprised. — Emma and I have been friends since childhood. Yes, we had quarrels, but that happens with those who’ve been together long.
— You’re still a child, Verunya. Listen to me. I don’t have much time left, and your father lives for science. If anyone can be your support and protection in life — it’s only Sergey.
Soon Vera herself began to understand how right her grandmother was. It happened just before New Year 1992. For a whole year, she and Sergey were happy and in love, so they decided to celebrate solemnly — at the “Happy Chance” restaurant at ten p.m., among friends and classmates.
Sergey called his fiancée and came to the entrance by taxi at five to ten. He waited about twenty minutes, but Vera didn’t come out. Sending off the taxi, he decided to go up to her and found the girl unconscious on the stairs.
It turned out that as soon as she left the apartment, someone pushed her hard in the back. The attacker had unscrewed the light bulb in the stairwell, so it was dark. From a severe bruise and pain shock, Vera lost consciousness.
Sergey found her — a doctor who immediately called an ambulance. He spent the whole New Year’s night in the hospital while Vera was operated on.
Their friends celebrated without them. No one knew why the couple didn’t come. Even Vera’s close friend — Emma, who arrived late and rushed into the restaurant disheveled — claimed she knew nothing.
Andrey looked at her suspiciously:
— You really don’t know where Sergey and Vera are?
— I told you — I don’t know! — Emma answered irritably.
— She said… — Andrey sneered. — You lie more often than you breathe. Maybe you at least comb your hair? You look like you just got out of a fight — all messed up.
— I just lost my hairpin. Leave me alone, — Emma elbowed him, and he pinched her back.
That’s how their relationship was from the start — full of hatred and dependence. Their common dislike of Sergey and Vera united them more than they could imagine.
The next day, Andrey learned what happened. His cousin told him everything as soon as it became known that the operation was successful and Vera would spend some time in a cast.
— Seriously? Who could do that? Pushing someone down the stairs deliberately is a criminal case. You can get a sentence for that.
— Yes, if the culprit is found. But Vera has no idea who it was. Although I managed to find a woman’s hairpin on the stairs. Though, of course, it doesn’t mean the culprit dropped it. Someone from the residents could have lost it, — Sergey said thoughtfully.
Andrey was silent. He remembered the evening when Emma arrived disheveled, confused, and admitted she lost a hairpin…
For almost six months, Vera recovered from a severe fracture. All this time Sergey didn’t leave her side, and the girl was again convinced: Murashin was the one person she was ready to go through everything with.
The wedding took place in August 1994, and already in September Sergey entered residency. His dream was to become a cardiac surgeon, and he became one, though the path was still long. But on the wedding day, a new tragedy almost happened: Vera lost the baby. She was two months pregnant, but no one except close ones knew about it.
The celebration took place in a restaurant, and the next day, the young company went out of town. They settled in the forest by the lake — barbecue, songs by the guitar, warm September air. Nature seemed unwilling to part with summer.
The water in the lake was so warm that the guests decided to swim. Since some came without swimsuits, they agreed to swim in turns: girls on one side of the lake, men on the other. Vera and Emma planned to swim first, while others set the table.
About twenty minutes later, a sharp cry was heard:
— Help!
It was Vera calling. Sergey and several others rushed to the water and saw the young bride struggling in the lake. Emma herself was hopping on one leg on the shore — she had a cramp. The friend could have helped but couldn’t even stand.
Vera was saved, but the fright and stress were too strong — a miscarriage occurred. For a long time after that, the woman was depressed. Sergey did not leave her side, friends were around — Emma and Andrey included.
One day, returning home after visiting the Murashins, Andrey decided to talk to Tselinskaya:
— You’re a bitch, Emka. A real, hardened scoundrel. I’m even starting to be afraid of you myself.
— Why is that? — she sneered.
— You think I don’t know who pushed Vera down the stairs? I know. And I can tell how one insensitive person watched her friend almost drown and didn’t try to help.
— Then better keep quiet, — Emma hissed, — or I can tell a lot too. For example, how you want to take everything Sergey owns. I don’t think he’ll like that.
— Then you’re a bastard, — Andrey grabbed his head, — but know this: nothing will work out for you.
— Why?
— Because you’re too emotional and stupid. Revenge is a dish best served cold. You act impulsively. If you want to succeed — plan, calculate every step. But you — emotions first, reason later.
— Maybe you’ll teach me? — Emma looked at her accomplice with interest.
— Useless, — Khaynetsky shook his head. — Only if you obey absolutely. Otherwise — you’ll be left with nothing again.
— I will obey, — she assured him. — Go ahead, speak.
— Marry me, — he said calmly.
Emma snorted and pushed him away:
— Are you crazy? I don’t love you!
— And I don’t love you either, — the man laughed. — But it’s necessary for the cause. Listen: you’re Vera’s best friend, and I’m Sergey’s brother. If we become family, we’ll always be close. At family celebrations, in business… Sergey won’t get around us. We can work together, help each other. It will be the perfect union.
— What business? — Tselinskaya was surprised.
— Haven’t you heard? Dmitry Yuryevich Nefedov and his son Sergey are going to open a private clinic. Vera is involved too — as an administrator or director. So why not be part of it? We just need to officially join the family. Then — everything will be in our hands.
Emma thought. It was indeed a brilliant move. To be near Sergey, you need to work with him. And how can a pharmacist and cardiac surgeon be close? Only within one project. The perfect option would be a family business. She would be near. Comforting, supporting, closer than anyone else. Especially when Vera is no longer here…
Tselinskaya was sure — sooner or later, something would happen to her “friend.” And then Sergey would be with her. Therefore, when Andrey repeated the proposal — she said “yes.”
The wedding took place. It seemed the happiest was Vera:
— Oh, Emma, now we’ll always be near! Now we’re family since our husbands are cousins, and our children will be third cousins. I hope they’ll be as close as we are.
— Yeah… — smiled Tselinskaya. She didn’t want children but most wished Sergey and Vera would have none.
In 1994, sons were born to the Murashin and Khaynetsky families: Ivan and Boris. Ivan was older by two months. Emma immediately hated her son — Boris. He was strikingly like his father: red hair, close-set eyes, and a hooked nose.
But Andrey was happy. When he first saw the baby in the maternity ward, he cried:
— Hello, little one. My joy, the heir of the Khaynetskys, — he said proudly. — What a handsome boy, right, Emma?
— Yes, handsome, all you, — the woman replied dryly, lying in bed. — Heir to the name. Now he’ll wear Murashin’s old clothes.
Her words sounded like a bad joke. At that moment, she saw her husband’s face go pale with rage.
Andrey jumped up instantly, ran to his wife, and grabbed her by the hair:
— Shut up. If you say that again — you won’t live to see tomorrow. Got it?
Emma saw real rage in her husband’s eyes for the first time. She realized he was serious. He could keep any promise. From that day, she became more careful with words, but inside grew the certainty: Andrey wanted not only to take everything from Sergey — he wanted to get rid of him.
Emma thought for a long time about warning Murashin but finally changed her mind. The more she watched Sergey and Vera’s happiness, the stronger her hatred consumed her.
How painful it was to envy. Ivan grew up a healthy, strong child, while Boris was weak from birth; the Khaynetsky family almost lived in the hospital. Love between Vera and Sergey only grew stronger with years, and Andrey treated his wife like a thing. He openly met with mistresses, and if Emma dared object — he could hit her.
“Why do I deserve such a life?” — Emma often thought, — “Am I not worthy of happiness? Why does Vera get everything from childhood — beautiful dresses, a rich family, and I only hand-me-downs…” — she cried into her pillow. — “Why does her husband love and worship her, and I live with someone who despises me? I want you to disappear, Vera. So that you have nothing left, so that you know what it’s like to be like me.”
Thus, in thoughts, she cursed her former best friend. Over time, her hatred for the Murashins became so strong that Emma herself became ill. But Vera was there again — helping, caring, visiting the hospital, coming to the house, washing, cooking, picking Boris up from kindergarten. Emma accepted help but simultaneously hated Vera for her own helplessness. Hatred had long become a disease, but Tselinskaya had not yet realized it.
In 2000, Sergey Murashin opened a private clinic, becoming its CEO. Twenty percent of shares belonged to his father-in-law Dmitry Yuryevich Nefedov, which after his death passed to Vera. Emma only gritted her teeth: “Again, everything to her, and nothing to me!”
The Khaynetskys worked in the clinic but were only hired employees.
— When will you finally finish with them? — Emma shouted in a ringing voice to her husband.
— Shut up and don’t meddle where you’re not asked, — Andrey was angry. — It’s my business how to act. You take on too much.
Each year it became clearer: Andrey had no intention to take revenge. Why would he? He managed a department, earned well, the family had a country house, a city apartment, several cars. He got all that thanks to his brother. Maybe he even forgot the humiliations of childhood, when their mother compared him to Sergey, and Andrey himself had to wear other people’s clothes.
But Emma could not come to terms. For her, it was personal. After all, she was supposed to be Sergey’s wife. She was supposed to own this fortune. Instead — an eternal shadow, an eternal second plan. She began to devise her own revenge plan. But it turned out unnecessary.
In 2007, a group of friends went rafting on mountain rivers. Sergey and Andrey were in one two-person raft. The boat overturned, the current swept the men away. Andrey managed to grab stones and get ashore, and he was saved. Sergey was never found.
After one and a half days, the rescue service arrived, but it was too late. Murashin disappeared without a trace.
Then began what Emma didn’t expect. It turned out Sergey had made a will years ago, according to which all movable and immovable property went to his wife and son. Only the clinic was excluded from the inheritance — it went to Andrey Khaynetsky.
The whole clinic was shocked. No one liked Andrey, they said it openly: “If you weren’t Murashin’s brother, you’d never work here.” The same applied to his wife — Emma, who held the position of financial director.
— Is this you? — Emma asked her husband. — Are you crazy? Ask such a question again — you’ll be sent to a psych ward, got it? — Andrey’s eyes flashed angrily.
But Emma felt: it was him. Only him. And somehow, despite the fear, she felt freedom. After Sergey’s disappearance, it was as if chains were lifted from her. And when she thought about how Vera now suffered, she laughed — hysterically, uncontrollably. This joy was sick, but she didn’t want to control it.
Vera was indeed devastated. Left alone with a thirteen-year-old son. Raising him, building a new life — she had no strength. Without Sergey, her world stopped.
Now Andrey managed the clinic, and Vera silently kept her 20% shares, refusing any offers to sell. Once Khaynetsky lost patience:
— Vera, I offer a good price. You’re an artist, you don’t understand business. Why do you need these shares?
— I’ll pass them to my son or Sergey when he returns, — she answered quietly.
— Where will he return from — the riverbed? Five years have passed. He won’t come back. You’re out of your mind!
— He will return, — Vera said calmly. — He will return and deal with the forged will you made.
— What did you say?! I forged the will?! How dare you?! — Andrey’s face turned purple. It looked like he might have a stroke.
— As a lawful spouse and heir, — she repeated calmly.
Vera was wrong. Sergey returned not after five but thirteen years. During that time, Ivan grew into a top-class surgeon, already performing complex operations himself. Vera never remarried. She still loved and waited for Sergey — the one nobody had seen dead.
She didn’t even agree to move out with Sergey: — No, son, don’t ask. Dad will come back and come here first. And if there are strangers — this won’t be our home.
Ivan agreed. Although it was inconvenient to get to work, he stayed living with his mother out of town, refusing the city apartment.
He also didn’t want to work at his uncle’s clinic founded by his father, although the Khaynetskys tried to persuade him. But Vera was against it.
Communication with the Khaynetskys ended after one incident. After another proposal to buy shares, Andrey sighed and said:
— Fine, you don’t want to sell shares. Maybe then marry me?
Vera froze. Her eyes widened. She barely pulled herself together:
— Are you serious? You’re my husband’s brother, husband of my “best friend,” you want to leave her and marry me?
— Best friend? — Andrey laughed. — She tried to kill you twice and once happily watched you almost drown. Emma always loved Sergey and hated you. But I love you, Vera. From the very first day. I always wanted to take him away.
Vera covered her ears with her palms. She didn’t want to hear, but Khaynetsky shouted at the top of his lungs.
When he finally stopped, they both saw Emma at the door. The woman turned pale as a wall. She heard everything.
— Cursed are you both, — she said coldly and left, slamming the door.
Vera followed and never spoke to the Khaynetskys again. That conversation nearly killed her spiritually. But Emma and Andrey seemed long accustomed to such situations.
If anyone thinks they divorced — they’re mistaken. They still live together, playing the role of the ideal family, but each lives his own life.
Their son grew cynical and heartless. Boris went over others’ heads to achieve goals. Having graduated from the management university, he works in his father’s clinic’s management apparatus. He says he always wanted to command, and healing people is not his calling because he simply doesn’t love people.
Boris Khaynetsky was a bold and rude young man. With his parents, he didn’t mince words, saying to their faces what others were afraid even to think:
— Dad, do you know why Uncle Seryozha was a genius and you remained a bad doctor? Because you don’t love people. You’d kill faster than heal. You should be a pathologist, — he mocked.
Andrey just grimaced in response:
— Shut up, pup, — and without pretension, with a slight smirk, added a blow below the belt.
It wasn’t just a slap — it was a reminder: Boris wasn’t better than his father. Especially now that Liza Savelieva preferred her third cousin — Ivan Murashin. Even with the opportunity to work at the “House of Health” clinic, the girl went after her beloved to the ambulance service.
— Mom, Dad woke up, — Ivan said quietly, touching his mother’s shoulder, who had fallen asleep on a couch near her husband’s bed.
Vera Dmitrievna woke up, smiled, and whispered:
— I dreamed he was calling me…
— He didn’t call anyone. Just opened his eyes. I was already with him. Of course, he might not recognize me — thirteen years have passed. And you, Mom, hardly changed. Just like in old photos, — her son smiled gently.
— Don’t flatter me, Vanya, — she smiled weakly, grabbing her son’s hand to get up.
— I’m telling the truth! You’re the most beautiful and young, — Ivan offended.
Sergey Alekseyevich really looked much better. His face had softened, slightly reddened, although in the morning it had been deathly pale. Vera looked at her beloved husband and barely held back tears. Sergey frowned, knitted his brows as if trying to remember or understand: “Who are you?”
Murashina understood — he didn’t remember her.
On the way home, Ivan told his mother an important detail: his father had an old scar on the back of his head, long-standing, possibly more than ten years old.
— What does that mean, son? — Vera asked anxiously.
— It may mean he hit himself. Either on sharp stones or… — Ivan hesitated.
— Speak, Vanya, don’t hide, — the woman asked impatiently.
— Or he was hit by the edge of an oar, — he finally said, looking intently at his mother.
Vera paled. She immediately understood what her son meant.
— So Dad should remember everything that happened thirteen years ago. Andrey must be punished.
Ivan continued:
— Father lived in a mountain village. Shepherds found him. He lost his memory, didn’t know his name or surname. They called him Vasily. His nickname in the village was “Forgetful.” He built himself a house, helped locals, worked here and there. People even helped him arrange a small house. He worked in the fields, hunted, fished.
One day, during a hunt, a bear attacked him. Villagers tried to help themselves but, realizing they couldn’t cope, called the ambulance. From there — an Emergency Ministry helicopter. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived.
— What can we do for Dad? — Vera asked.
— One local said Vasily remembered nothing from his past life except one name — Vera. Every time he said it, his heart painfully contracted.
Murashina covered her face with her hands and cried. Ivan stopped the car and hugged his mother:
— Don’t cry, Mommy. He will get better. We’ll bring him home. He will remember. It takes time. He must re-enter the life where you were.
— Can we show him our photos?
— Of course. And the office you kept, and the car in the garage. He will remember, Mom.
After talking with her son, Vera calmed down a bit. She believed again — everything was possible. As soon as Sergey’s condition allowed, the family took him home.
The first days he spent much time in his office. Once he came out and handed his son a medical instrument:
— Is this a stethoscope?
The joy was immense — as if a child spoke his first word. Vera hoped memories would flow faster now. But that didn’t happen. Sergey recalled separate moments, terms, instruments, but not his family, not Vera, not his son, not his brother.
The Khaynetskys were not informed of Sergey’s return. The Murashins patiently waited for his memory to come back.
And then one day, six months after returning, Vera was going down the stairs with a tray in her hands. Suddenly she stepped on the edge of a long robe, stumbled, cups clattered down, and she began to fall.
Sergey immediately jumped up from the sofa and shouted “Vera!” and rushed to her. He didn’t manage to hold her, and they both tumbled down the stairs.
— Vera, why are you like this? — he said painfully. — I was so scared… Almost like then… before New Year. When you were pushed down the stairs. I waited for you in the taxi, and then…
They sat on the floor, stunned and touched.
— You remembered? Seryozha, you remembered?! — Vera cried.
Sergey hugged her. They sat like that for a long time, recalling the years of youth until Ivan came home.
Much time passed, trials and appeals were held, many proofs and witnesses were gathered. But finally, the Murashins achieved justice: Sergey’s documents were restored, and the clinic was returned to him.
Andrey Yakovlevich Khaynetsky was convicted. Emma Borisovna and her son Boris were fired from the clinic by Sergey. Where they are now — none of the Murashins know. And, frankly, they don’t care anymore.
Now they are concerned with something else: preparing for the wedding of their only son, the arrival of grandchildren. For Vera and Sergey, this is the beginning of new, long-awaited happiness. Full, bright, and just.