The on-duty doctor, exhausted after a long working day, stretched until his joints cracked and, yawning, slowly walked toward the window. Outside, large, soft flakes of the season’s first snow were falling — slow, as if they lingered in the air before touching the ground. The world outside seemed different — quiet and somewhat magical — but inside the hospital, the usual bustle reigned, thoroughly real and unvarnished.
The doctor lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and nervously, then turned to Viktor — his assistant, a young but already weary order nurse:
“What are we going to do? She’s already completely cold. What’s the point in fussing over this… stray? Call the morgue attendants. It’s over. Too late.”
Viktor silently approached the stretcher. His hands moved almost automatically — he placed his palm on the woman’s wrist, trying to find a pulse. It was barely perceptible — weak, rare, like the last tick of a clock before it stops. Pushing aside a wet strand of hair from the stranger’s face, he froze. Something in her features seemed familiar, as if he had seen that face somewhere before, but his memory stubbornly remained silent.
“Yulia?” — flashed through his mind, but he immediately brushed off the thought as a ridiculous hallucination. Yulia… She had a round, slightly childish face with cute dimples on her cheeks that appeared when she smiled. But here lay a gaunt, dirty woman whose age was impossible to determine. Years, suffering, and deprivation seemed to have erased everything that could have been recognizable.
While Viktor stood in thought, the doctor had already called the morgue attendants. They came quickly, efficiently, without unnecessary words. They transferred the body to their stretcher, carefully covered it with a sheet, and wheeled it down the corridor, where the echo of their footsteps sounded like dull shuffling.
“Vitya,” the doctor called out to him, noticing some forgotten papers on the floor. “This drowned woman has documents left behind. Take them to the morgue, then you can go rest. Today was a hard day.”
Vitya took the slightly damp documents and slowly went down the stairs. On the landing between floors, a bright light bulb shone, almost blinding after the dim corridor. He unfolded the accompanying sheet: “Saar Yuliya Gennadyevna, born 1994.” In the file was a passport — water had partially blurred the pages, but one laminated page remained intact: data and photograph were clearly visible.
At that moment, Viktor’s hands began to tremble.
They were born in the same year, in the same month. They lived in neighboring apartments, opposite each other. They went to the same kindergarten group and considered themselves part of one family. From early childhood, the boy and girl were sure they were relatives, just living in different rooms of a big house.
Yulia was surprised when a baby named Tima appeared in their building, and she was told he was her brother.
“What brother?” — she wondered. “And then who is Vitya to me?”
For some reason, the parents laughed:
“Vitya is a neighbor. You can explain to your friends at kindergarten later.”
A similar story happened in Viktor’s family when his little sister Tanya was born.
“Vitya, as the elder, will have to protect and take care of her,” said his father.
“And who will protect Yulia?” asked the boy.
Dad smiled:
“I think you can protect both Yulia and Tanya. You’re a good boy. But don’t forget — Yulia is just a neighbor, and Tanya is your own sister.”
The word “neighbor” shook little Vitya’s world for a long time. He thought it only applied to grandmothers on the first floor, not to someone he saw every day, played with, shared his treasures with, and trusted more than anyone else.
When it was time to study, they were separated into different classes. This caused a real scandal among the children.
“I won’t go to school!” — Yulia shouted. “They put me next to some fat boy who pulls out food and chews during lessons! I want to sit with Vitya!”
“I won’t go to school anymore!” — Vitya declared. “There are so many girls in the class! At least swap one for Yulia!”
Seeing the children’s despair, the parents appealed to the administration. They were transferred to the same class and seated at the same desk, on the condition that they wouldn’t talk during lessons. So they spent all of elementary school afraid they would be separated again.
Adolescence brought new trials. Yulia got admirers — boys from senior classes who waited for her near the school, trying to “steal” her from the ever-present security guard. Vitya fought them off with his backpack, books, anything he could grab. He defended her like a knight.
But one day, after class, Yulia said:
“Listen, don’t walk me home anymore.”
“Why?” — Vitya was surprised.
“It will be better for you. Aren’t you tired of fighting?”
Vitya grumbled something and went home. But he hid behind a corner and saw Yulia run out of school, wave to some boys in the crowd, and walk accompanied by tall, broad-shouldered Robert — the captain of the school basketball team.
Stunned, Vitya clenched his fist between his teeth and stood there until the laughing couple disappeared around the corner.
Since then, they became almost enemies. Soon Yulia married that very Robert and left with him to another region. Her mother, who remained friends with Vitya’s mother, often told about the young family’s travels, competitions abroad, and her daughter’s happy life.
Vitya listened half-heartedly, considering Yulia a traitor. Although somewhere in the deepest corners of his soul, he still dreamed that she would come to her senses, leave the athlete, and become his wife.
He himself entered medical school in the sports medicine department. He always admired the work of doctors at boxing matches and dreamed of treating athletes right in the ring. But fate had other plans. In his last year, tragedy struck the family — his father suddenly died. His mother fell ill from grief, and the care of her and younger sister Tanya fell on Vitya’s shoulders.
He had to take an academic leave and get a job as an order nurse at the emergency hospital. The newcomer was assigned to intensive care, where they often had to resuscitate the dying and treat wounds.
“Not a ring, of course, but still a noble cause,” thought Viktor, bringing the next victim out of pain shock.
Now, holding the passport with the photo in his hands, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Before him was not just a woman found in the river. It was Yulia. The very Yulia he once loved, protected, endured, and forgave.
Viktor ran down the corridor, catching up with the attendants. When he saw them about to shove the stretcher into the freezer, something inside him burst out.
“Guys, stop!” — he shouted, drowning out the noise. “A mistake happened. Let’s take her to intensive care.”
“What? The doctor clearly wrote — hypothermia with fatal outcome.”
“Wait!” — Viktor shouted, his voice trembling but determined. “She’s not just a patient. It’s… It’s Yulia. It’s my Yulia. We can’t give up. We won’t give her up for anything.”
He turned the stretcher around and dragged it to the elevator, feeling his hands shake with tension and fear of losing her again.
“Viktor Nikolaevich, then it’s under your responsibility,” said the senior attendant.
“Of course!” — Vitya shouted without looking back.
There were only two patients in intensive care — an elderly woman with a heart attack and a young girl with a traumatic brain injury. Viktor carefully transferred Yulia to the free spot. She became light as a teenager, exhausted, bluish from hypothermia.
The order nurse took a dry towel and scissors. He cut her long, wet hair as short as possible, wrapped her head with the towel, and set up an IV with a tonic solution. All movements were precise, dictated not only by professionalism but also by inner despair — he could not afford to lose her again.
Her condition was severe but stable. Body temperature had fallen below the critical mark, pulse barely reached forty beats per minute.
Vitya looked at Yulia and couldn’t believe it was her. Thin bluish skin, gaunt face — nothing indicated the happy life her mother told about.
“Vitek, what’s going on here?” — he heard the displeased voice of the duty doctor.
“Pavel Sergeyevich, the patient is still alive. Look for yourself,” he pointed to the monitor.
“Wait, I don’t get it. She was taken to the morgue!”
“I caught them and turned the stretcher around.”
“Do you want to get me in trouble? Failure to provide assistance or dereliction of duty — is that what you’re aiming for?” — the doctor was outraged.
“I had no ill intent! It’s just… this girl is my cousin,” Viktor lowered his head.
The doctor was stunned. He could not imagine that such an unpresentable patient could be a relative of his colleague.
“Why didn’t you keep an eye on her? How did she get into this state?”
“I don’t know,” Viktor admitted. “I’m waiting for her to come to.”
“Since she’s dear to you, I’ll put a good drip on her,” the doctor said briskly, rubbing his palms and going for a new vial.
Vitya replaced the solution and warmly thanked the chief.
“Thank you, Pavel Sergeyevich! I owe you.”
“No problem. After all, I am a doctor.”
Viktor waited for the drip to finish, removed the needle, sat down on a chair by the bed, and closed his eyes. Thousands of guesses spun in his head.
Suddenly, the words of his father came to mind: “I think you can protect both Yulia and Tanya.”
“Well, Dad, I had to…” — he whispered and dozed off.
Near dawn, a moan woke him. Yulia was breathing heavily and repeating:
“Why…”
“Yul, Yulia,” — he called softly.
She opened her eyes slightly and, apparently not recognizing him, barely whispered:
“Why did you save me? I don’t want to live…”
“It’s me, Vitya. Calm down, you’re okay.”
She looked at him and started crying:
“Vitya… I don’t want to…”
He gave her a sedative injection and sat down beside her again. “What do her words mean? Did she try to end her life?”
After his shift, Viktor asked the replacement nurse to pay special attention to the patient. Arriving home, the first thing he did was ring the door opposite.
“Anna Petrovna, have you talked to Yulia recently?”
“No, just the day before yesterday. She said they were going abroad and wouldn’t call. Why?”
“A patient came to us who looks a lot like her. But since Yulia is abroad…”
“Wait, Vitenka!” — the woman grabbed his sleeve. “Something is troubling me. Her voice on the phone was strange. I asked what was wrong, and she said, ‘Don’t worry, it’s just a slight cold.’ But I had a long aftertaste, like she lied. You can’t fool a mother’s heart!”
Vitya calmed her as best he could and went home.
In the evening, the replacement nurse called:
“Vitya! Your sister tried to climb out the window! We barely held her back. I’m afraid she’ll be transferred to psychiatry.”
Viktor immediately rushed to the hospital. Yulia lay under the IV but, seeing him, turned away toward the window.
“Well, shall we talk?” — he sat on a chair.
She was silent.
“Your mom said you’re going abroad.”
“Mom… well, yes, of course. She’s sure I’m fine. Her daughter can’t be otherwise,” Yulia suddenly spoke. “But I lied all this time! I never went anywhere with Robert because he didn’t take me. Said I was annoying.”
Her voice trembled:
“I sat alone in a strange city, bored. No profession, no education. The only way was to trade at the market. Got a job as a saleswoman. When my husband found out — he flew into a rage, beat me to bruises. ‘I don’t need my wife working as a trader!’”
Yulia spoke without stopping:
“And I told him, ‘Better a trader than sitting in a cage all day!’ Only after the wedding did he get completely wild. Got a mistress and blamed me for everything. That the team is failing, that they lose competitions. I left him. But I kept telling my parents that everything was great.”
“Where did you live?”
“In a hostel with migrants. Ate whatever, almost ruined my stomach. They kicked me out of the food stalls — saying my appearance was unpresentable. Went to sell souvenirs; the income was very low. Money was mostly enough for medicine.”
Yulia covered her face with her hands:
“The further it went, the scarier it got. Then I thought — I can’t anymore. I’ll go home, confess, repent. They won’t throw me out! Getting here was a whole other story — I don’t even want to remember. Walking through my hometown, thinking: ‘Finally home!’ And just then, mom calls. Again, I couldn’t admit it, kept saying we’re at the airport, flying…”
“And then?”
“I see our teacher standing on the sidewalk, listening to my nonsense and looking at me with such bewilderment, even disgust. I quickly said goodbye to mom and ran. I ran, but felt so ashamed, so disgusted! Who needs me, such a lying scum? Mom? Brother Dima? They’ll drop dead when they see what kind of relative showed up!”
Vitya listened silently.
“I ran to the bridge and almost jumped into the river running. You know what’s the worst? The water was burning cold! It froze me, but I didn’t drown! I hoped the water would fill my clothes and pull me down. But it didn’t! I was chattering my teeth, don’t know how long I struggled until I passed out.”
Vitya wiped sweat from his forehead:
“Eh, Yulka! What have you done to yourself? And for whom? For a loser basketball player?”
“Don’t remind me of him!” — she asked.
“I talked to your mom yesterday. She feels you’re hiding something, worried. Shall I call her, let her come?”
Yulia first shook her head, then cried:
“Maybe… let her see me here under the IV rather than in that puffy jacket.”
An hour later, Anna Petrovna was with her daughter. She hugged her, stroked her short hair, and said:
“Don’t, mommy, please don’t…”
After two weeks of intensive nutrition, walks, and vitamins, Yulia noticeably improved. Dimples reappeared on her cheeks, lips gained a healthy pink color. Passing by her ward, one of the doctors even whistled:
“What beauties we have!”
But Pavel Sergeyevich immediately shut him down:
“Sorry, but I lied. Yulia is not my sister but my fiancée. So move along.”
“Eh,” sighed the doctor, “what a disobedient youth these days! Everyone does things their own way!”
Walking down the corridor with the bouquet Viktor gave her for discharge, Yulia smiled generously at doctors, nurses, attendants. She thanked everyone and said goodbye.
The morgue workers smoking by the exit respectfully bowed when they saw her, then exchanged puzzled glances.
She was going home and for the first time in years truly wanted to live. Not just live, but love and be loved. Because today, Viktor had just asked her to be his wife.