Vasily Sergeyevich had already heard the phone ringing from his pocket for the third time. Finally, he released his subordinates, the staff from the women’s prison, and quickly picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
At first, there was silence, and then the irritated voice of his son’s teacher, Ilona Danilovna, came through.
“Vasily Sergeyevich, this is not the first time I’ve called you!”
He immediately froze, realizing his guilt.
“Sorry, Ilona Danilovna, I was in a meeting and couldn’t answer. Did something happen?”
“Of course something happened, but it’s not a big deal. Kostik has a fever. It’s just a cold, but he can’t stay in the group to avoid infecting the other kids. You need to come pick him up right away. He’s been sitting in the medical office for an hour now.”
“Ilona Danilovna, you see, I’m at work too, I can’t just leave…”
“That’s no longer my problem, Vasily Sergeyevich. If you don’t care about your son sitting alone in the office, then fine,” Ilona Danilovna replied firmly, sometimes crossing the line into rudeness.
Her parents forgave her for this, as with the children, she was completely different – caring, soft, like a mother and mentor to each one. The kids adored the young teacher, often talking about what Ilona Danilovna said or who she praised. Her pupils were like family to her.
Vasily Sergeyevich hurriedly put on his jacket and ran out of the office, shouting to Rita:
“I’m going to the kindergarten for Kostya. He’s sick. I won’t be taking him to work; I’ll figure it out and call.”
He didn’t even hear Rita’s response, just sighed to himself, realizing that he was always rushing, just like when Tamara was still around. It seemed he never stopped, as if he was afraid that thoughts of her would overwhelm him if he slowed down.
Tamara and Rita had been friends, both coming to work at this organization together. Tamara worked in the supply department of the prison.
By the time Vasily was transferred here, Rita already had a child and a husband. A year later, Vasily and Tamara married, and he couldn’t believe his luck. He had been fortunate in life – at ten years old, he was adopted by a good family with loving parents, a rare occurrence for children his age. Thanks to his adoptive mother, who took care of him, Vasily managed to finish school, study, and serve in the army. After several years of work, he was transferred here, where his new life with Tamara began.
When Kostik was born, Vasily Sergeyevich was beside himself with happiness. He joked about it with Tamara, and she, laughing, called him a fool, sending him to hang up the diapers. Life seemed like a fairy tale, until Tamara got sick.
At first, she said it was just a minor ailment, but Vasily noticed how quickly she began to lose weight. He himself made an appointment for her, leaving three-year-old Kostik with his godmother Rita. A few days later, he got a call from the clinic, asking him to come alone, without telling his wife. It was then that he realized the fairy tale was over. The doctor informed him that it was too late, Tamara had only a few months left, not even half a year.
When Vasily returned home, Tamara looked at him and understood everything.
“You were at the doctor’s, right?” she asked calmly.
He nodded, feeling his heart tighten with pain.
“It’s better this way,” she replied, smiling sadly. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So, you knew everything?” he asked, shocked by her calmness.
“No one can know everything,” she said, smiling sadly. “But I feel it. You understand, even from the tests, you can guess what I have. Not much time left,” Tamara whispered, and Vasily, bowing his head, began to cry.
Two months later, she was gone. Just a week before Kostya’s fourth birthday. They celebrated the holiday together, and when Vasily put his orphaned son to bed, tears flowed for the first time since Tamara hadn’t woken up.
The next day, Ilona Danilovna greeted him at the kindergarten. She had probably seen him approaching from the window.
“Vasily Sergeyevich, I understand that it’s hard for you. You’re raising Kostya alone, but responsibility for your son requires attention,” she said sternly.
Vasily involuntarily smiled, despite his heavy state. Ilona Danilovna, though she could be strict, loved the children and was like a mother to them.
When Vasily lifted Kostya in his arms, Kostya asked:
“Dad, where are we going now? Home?”
“I don’t know, son. I can’t take you to work, and I can’t leave you at home either. I don’t even know what to do…”
Vasily looked around, afraid of seeing Ilona Danilovna nearby, and whispered to his son:
“Maybe you can stay home and watch cartoons? I’ll try to come back early.”
Kostya grinned slyly:
“What if my temperature goes up, or I want to play with matches? Kids can’t be left alone!”
Vasily smiled – he was sure Kostya wouldn’t touch the matches, but the thought of a possible fever made him pause.
“You’re right. Looks like I’ll have to take you to work with me and leave you under Aunt Rita’s care.”
Kostya frowned in fear:
“Not Aunt Rita! She’ll immediately send me to her girls, and they’re mean, they make me read!”
Rita had two daughters, the youngest of whom was only six months younger than Kostya, but both constantly tried to boss him around and “teach” him, as if he were their toy.
“Do you have another plan?” Vasily asked with a smirk.
Kostya nodded, freeing his mouth from the scarf:
“Dad, call Aunt Lena.”
“Aunt Lena? Who’s that?” Vasily asked, surprised, not understanding who he meant.
“Dad,” Kostya said seriously, standing at attention, “the prisoner Sokolova.”
Vasily smiled weakly but then frowned. Sokolova had been sentenced not for anything serious but simply found herself in the wrong place with the wrong people, which is why she wasn’t heavily judged and was treated leniently. She was allowed to help the officers—clean, cook, assist in the medical office and the kitchen. Sokolova was often assigned to Vasily, and during all this time, she had never given any cause for complaints, which is why she was involved with the leadership.
However, the idea of leaving his son with her was too unexpected. Vasily couldn’t decide, so he called Rita, knowing that she could give valuable advice. She listened carefully, then replied cautiously:
“It’s an unconventional decision, but Lena is really a good girl. I’ve never seen her do anything wrong. She’s never broken any rules and always behaves decently. Alright, Vasily, bring her over. We’ll talk.”
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Lena was standing at the threshold, her eyes showing slight fear.
“Hello, is something wrong, Vasily Sergeyevich? I just cleaned and cooked everything yesterday.”
“No, everything’s fine, Lena,” Vasily reassured her. “I’ve got a situation…” He hesitated for a moment. “Kostya is sick, but I can’t stay with him at home—there’s an inspection, and I have a ton of work. If I ask you to stay with him…”
She smiled, relaxing a little:
“Of course, don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
Vasily, slightly relieved, nodded and handed her the medicine and the sheet of instructions the kindergarten gave him.
“Here, it says what to do and how to take it. I’ll be in touch, I’ll call.”
“Don’t worry, Vasily Sergeyevich,” Lena smiled, and he thought to himself how much light and kindness she had, which could have been hidden if she had been in another environment.
He had so much work that he had to stay late. He called twice: the first time to check how things were going. Lena answered at first, and then Kostya picked up the phone, excitedly saying that they were playing “bears.”
“Bears? How?” Vasily asked, surprised.
“Well, dad, bears only eat and sleep. They also growl if they don’t like something. So, I’m eating, even though I don’t really want to, especially when I have to take medicine, and I’m sleeping.”
Vasily chuckled, realizing that he never would have thought of such a trick to get his sick son to take his medicine. The second time he called to warn that he would be late.
“Everything’s fine, his temperature went up a bit, but we handled it. Kostya’s fine now, playing,” Lena replied.
“I’ll try to be back in about an hour or an hour and a half.”
Vasily didn’t get home until three hours later. He quietly entered, assuming Kostya was already asleep. From the bedroom came Lena’s soft voice—she was singing a lullaby. Vasily froze, shocked. The melody was familiar; the same lullaby his mother used to sing to him. The song, a mix of Russian and Armenian, was part of his childhood. He stood in the hallway, holding back tears.
When the singing stopped, Lena came out of the room and froze when she saw him.
“Do you know this song?” Vasily asked, surprised.
She smiled sadly:
“My mom used to sing it to me when I was little. I didn’t remember the words, but the melody was always with me. I once decided I had to find this song, it was my only connection to my mom, even though I don’t remember her name. I was brought to the orphanage at three, and I accidentally found this song in an old library, the one hardly anyone ever visited.”
“So you… from the orphanage?” Vasily asked, almost not hearing his own voice.
Lena shrugged:
“Not exactly. I had foster parents, but they returned me after three years. Then I was adopted again, but those parents gave up on me. And so on—several times.”
Vasily took a deep breath.
“Lena, thank you so much,” he said quietly.
“No need, Vasily Sergeyevich. If you ever need anything, I’m always ready to help,” she answered calmly before leaving.
Vasily sat at the kitchen table for a long time, reflecting on what he had heard. His own experience came to mind—he and his sister had been brought to the orphanage after the tragedy, when a fire took everyone except them. He had rejected his sister from the start, blaming her for his misfortunes, though in reality, she was not to blame. They hadn’t seen each other since, and Vasily always avoided thinking about it.
His gaze fell on the phone, and he resolutely dialed Rita’s number.
“Rita, I know it’s late, but can we speed up the thing with Sokolova? I can ask Timofeev to bring the documents in an hour.”
Making himself a huge cup of coffee, Vasily sat over the documents, then went to the window and looked at his reflection. The next day, he filed a report, preparing to explain everything to the authorities when they called him in.
“Vasily Sergeyevich, what’s going on?”
Vasily, knowing an explanation would be needed, took a deep breath.
“I just need time. I’ll see what can be done,” he said quietly, “I’m an orphan too, I know how fate can break someone there.”
Lena’s case was sent for reconsideration after new circumstances came to light. For her, this was a real shock because she had long accepted the idea that fighting against influential people was pointless. One of them had “put her away,” accusing her of embezzling funds to cover up their own schemes. But a month later, not only was Lena’s sentence softened, but her conviction was overturned.
At the gates, Vasily Sergeyevich and Kostya were waiting for her.
“You? Is something wrong?” Lena asked in surprise.
Vasily took a deep breath.
“Yes, Lena, something happened. You see… I owe you an apology. Back at the orphanage, I insisted that no one know that we were family. Forgive me, if you can. If we had kept in touch back then, you wouldn’t have ended up in this situation…”
Lena couldn’t hold back her tears.
“So, it’s true… The nanny didn’t lie to me,” she whispered, wiping her tears. “I don’t need to forgive you, Vasily, because the most important thing is that you and Kostya are here. Everything else doesn’t matter.”
Six months later, Lena joyfully and enthusiastically danced at Vasily and Ilona Danilovna’s wedding, happy that her life, and her brother’s life, had finally found meaning and happiness.