Alice was returning home late in the evening, hurrying along a deserted, dark street. She had spent nearly the entire day in the library, absorbed in writing her term paper, which was due the following week. So wrapped up was she in her studies that she hadn’t noticed how quickly time had flown by. Now she was just a short distance from the entrance to her apartment building when she suddenly heard someone’s footsteps behind her. A wave of panic washed over her.
A chill ran down her spine, and her heart began to beat faster. Alice tried to pull her phone from her pocket to call someone or at least send a message, but at that moment, a rough male voice sounded behind her:
“Hey, where are you rushing off to? Maybe I’ll walk you home?”
His speech was slow and slurred—it was immediately clear he was intoxicated. Realizing this made Alice’s fear intensify dramatically. Instinctively, she tried to quicken her pace, hoping to lose the stranger, but he suddenly grabbed her arm.
“Where are you hurrying off to?” he asked, his voice growing more insistent, his tone more commanding. “What a sweet girl… Why don’t we get to know each other better?”
When the man yanked on Alice’s hood and tried to pull her toward him, she screamed as loud as she could. She fought back fiercely, trying to free herself from his grip, but her efforts were futile. At that moment, fate took a different turn: a homeless man happened to be passing by, noticed what was happening, and rushed to help. Without a second’s hesitation, he grabbed a bottle lying nearby and struck the attacker over the head with all his might. The assailant immediately lost consciousness and fell to the ground. Alice stood trembling uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.
“Let’s get out of here before this guy comes to,” her rescuer warned, and she obediently followed him.
As they left the dark, deserted street behind, the surroundings grew lighter and more crowded. Only upon reaching a safer area could Alice finally breathe a sigh of relief. She walked beside her rescuer, still in shock. From time to time, she glanced at the man—a man of about fifty, dressed in old, worn clothes, with disheveled hair. His appearance spoke for itself: life had clearly treated him cruelly. Seeing him up close, Alice felt a deep sense of compassion.
“Would you like to come in? I can offer you a hot meal,” she suddenly suggested, surprising even herself, when they reached her building.
A grateful smile lit up the man’s face.
“Of course, I’d be happy to! And don’t worry, I’m not planning on stealing anything,” he added, as if reading her thoughts.
“No, not at all! I’m just concerned about your well-being,” Alice replied, taking out her keys.
“I understand. Not every girl would take the risk of inviting a homeless man home,” he said with a shrug. “But I really am harmless. I just haven’t had a proper meal in a very long time.”
Alice showed him into her apartment and asked him to wash his hands before dinner. Her rescuer quickly complied and returned to the living room. But instead of sitting down at the table, he froze by a chest of drawers when his gaze landed on a photograph. It was an old family photo of a young Alice sitting between her mother and father. The man suddenly turned pale, and his hands began to tremble. He carefully picked up the picture and studied it for a long while, running his fingers over it.
“Why are you looking at that photo so closely?” Alice asked in surprise, coming closer.
“I… I remember everything,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Alice asked, confused.
“That man in the photo…” He pointed a shaking finger at the man beside little Alice. “That’s me. I’m your father.”
Alice shook her head in bewilderment.
“You’re mistaken. That’s my father.”
“Where is he now?” the man asked tensely.
“I don’t know…” Alice admitted, lowering her eyes.
Over dinner, as they sat at the table, Alice told him her story:
“I can hardly remember my father. This photo is the only thing that connects me to him. Mom always said he was a sailor on long voyages and that one day he’d come back. Over time, I realized it was a painful topic for her, so I stopped asking.”
Nikolai pushed his empty plate aside and said thoughtfully, “All these years, it felt like I was wandering through a fog. I’d see men returning home to their families after a hard day and envy them. I used to have that life too. On that fateful day that changed everything, I was rushing home from work, just like they were. I had a wonderful family: a loving, caring wife, and a little daughter, Alice. She had just turned three when fate decided to tear us apart forever. That night, I was attacked by robbers—they must have known I’d just gotten my paycheck and a bonus. They robbed me and beat me until I lost consciousness. By some miracle, I ended up in a hospital where the doctors saved my life. But along with my life, I lost my memory. When I came to, I didn’t remember my name or who I was. I had no papers on me. I ended up on the street, with no money and no roof over my head. At first, I tried to find work, but over time, I gave up. People avoided me like I was a leper. And so I wandered for years, sleeping in basements and by heating pipes, eating what I could find in dumpsters. All the while, my family was here… Seeing this photograph was like a reboot for my memory. A light went on in my head after all those years of darkness. Alice, do you believe me? Do you believe what I’m saying?”
Alice froze, speechless. She stared at Nikolai, eyes wide, trying to take in what he had just told her. Then he stood up suddenly, rolled up his sleeve, and showed her a heart-shaped birthmark on his wrist.
“Your mother always called it ‘the angels’ kiss.’ She was especially fond of it, and when you were born with the very same mark, she was overjoyed. She saw it as a special bond between us.”
With trembling hands, Alice rolled up her own sleeve and saw the identical birthmark on her wrist. Tears poured from her eyes, and she threw herself, sobbing, into Nikolai’s arms. Laughing and crying at the same time, she refused to let him leave. She set up a temporary bed for him on the couch in the living room. Her mother was due back in the morning, after a two-week visit to her sister.
Alice spent the entire night wide awake, thinking about everything she’d heard and touching the birthmark on her wrist. She had found the father she had longed for all her life, and she would never let him disappear again. Nikolai had to stay close, so they could make up for all the lost years.
When the first rays of dawn broke through the windows, Alice headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. To her surprise, Nikolai was already there. A stack of delicious-looking pancakes with sour cream stood on the table.
“Homeless folks aren’t used to lazing around in bed,” he said with a gentle smile, noticing her surprise. “I used to love cooking. You always asked me to make these exact pancakes. You refused to eat the ones your mom made and insisted that I be the one to cook them.”
Overjoyed, Alice sat at the table and started eating, savoring each bite. Soon, they heard the sound of the front door opening.
“Alice, I’m home!” Vera called out happily.
Alice asked her father to stay in the kitchen, then ran to greet her mother.
“Hi, Mom! How was the trip?” she asked, hugging her.
“I’m a bit tired, but all right overall. Anything tasty around?” Vera replied, heading to the kitchen.
Alice followed her. Vera froze in the doorway upon seeing Nikolai by the window. Shocked, she dropped her bag.
“Vera… Welcome home,” Nikolai said softly, taking a step forward.
At first, her mother’s face showed only shock, but then recognition dawned. Alice’s heart soared. She ran to her mother and gently took her hand.
“Dad’s back with us, at home.”
But instead of happiness, rage twisted Vera’s face. She strode up to Nikolai and gave him such a strong slap that it echoed through the apartment.
“Where have you been all these years?” she demanded, her voice trembling with anger. “You decided to come back only now?”
“Vera…” Nikolai mumbled, taken aback. “I can explain everything…”
Then Alice and her father told her the whole truth: about that fateful night many years ago when he was beaten until he lost his memory, how he ended up living on the streets, and about the events of the previous evening that had brought them together again. Vera listened quietly, eyes downcast, as though lost in deep thought. After a few minutes, she sat down, drank some cold water, and broke the silence:
“All these years, I believed you were a traitor. I thought you left us for another woman. I called hospitals and morgues, went to the police…but found nothing. Eventually, I decided you simply didn’t want to be with us. I waited day after day, hoping the door would open and you’d walk in as if nothing had happened. I never managed to forget you or build a new life. But now I need time to take this all in. I’ve lived without you for so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be a family.”
Vera left the kitchen and locked herself in the bedroom. Nikolai reassured his anxious daughter, explaining that her mother just needed time to process everything. He said goodbye to Alice, promising never again to vanish from their lives, and headed home.
However, not far from his building, he was surrounded by a group of young men, among them the same individual who had harassed Alice the night before. The cold January air crackled with tension. After a brief but brutal fight, Nikolai ended up sprawled in the snow next to a dumpster, his body covered in blood. Every movement brought searing pain. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Lying there, he thought about his life—so full of hardships and loneliness. But now that he had found his family, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing them again.
“I must survive,” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and surrendering to fate.
“Dad! Can you hear me?” Alice’s familiar voice suddenly rang out.
With tremendous effort, Nikolai opened his eyes and saw his daughter leaning over him. Pain coursed through his body, but a wave of relief washed over him at the realization that he was alive.
“Dad, we were so worried about you. We almost lost you again,” Alice said, holding his hand. “I’m not letting you leave us this time. You’ll be living with us from now on.”
At that moment, Vera entered the hospital room. She walked slowly to the bed and, without saying a word, leaned down to kiss her husband. That simple act spoke more than any words ever could.
Alice explained to her father that she’d felt uneasy all evening, worried about letting him go out in such cold weather. She called her boyfriend, and together they started looking for him. They found Nikolai near the dumpster and rushed him to the hospital.
After he was discharged, Nikolai returned to the home he once knew, to live with his family again. He had learned one crucial truth: no matter how much time passes, the truth will always find its way into the light.