— Anna froze at the bathroom door. Her mother-in-law’s voice was quiet, but every word pierced her like a nail.
Tamara Stepanovna stood in front of the mirror, talking on the phone without turning around:
— From the orphanage, can you imagine? She has no one. She hooked Andryusha and got pregnant on purpose. I checked — no twins in the family. Probably not his. But he’s weak, he fell for it.
Anna instinctively pressed her hands to her belly. Eight months pregnant. The dress pressed against her ribs, her legs throbbed as if on fire, and she wanted nothing more than to sink to the floor.
Her mother-in-law turned and saw her. Her face didn’t change. She put down the phone.
— Feeling unwell? Go on, rest a bit. Just don’t sit at the table, you’ll spoil the guests’ appetite. Shall I call a taxi?
Anna nodded. She left. Music blared in the hall, Andrey sat with a flushed face, a small glass in his hand, shouting a toast. He didn’t look up as she passed.
The taxi arrived in ten minutes. Anna sat in the back seat, and only then realized she was crying.
Labor started at night, suddenly, with a blow to her back that took her breath away. Anna called the ambulance herself, dialing Andrey’s number with trembling hands. No answer.
She called her mother-in-law.
— Tamara Stepanovna, contractions have started. Andrey isn’t answering.
— He’s on a business trip. Important negotiations. Don’t bother him, Anna. Did you call the ambulance? Good, then go. We’ll come later.
They didn’t come.
The delivery room was cold, smelling of chlorine and something metallic. The doctor worked silently. The nurse stared into the corner. When they placed the two children on Anna’s chest — a boy and a girl, wet, warm, crying — she realized no one else was there.
For the first three days, the phone remained silent. On the fourth day, Anna called herself.
— Andrey, we’ll be discharged soon.
Pause. Long. Then her mother-in-law’s voice in the background:
— Don’t you dare go there. Hear me? The documents aren’t ready, the DNA test isn’t done. Let her stay there until it’s proven.
— Anna, — her husband’s voice was weak, drunk. — My mother says the papers aren’t ready. Stay there a while, okay? I’ll come later.
— When later?
— I don’t know. Once we figure it out.
He hung up.
Klavdiya worked in the hospital cafeteria but stopped by Anna’s room every day. She brought a thermos of broth, cookies, napkins.
— All alone?
— Alone.
— Where’s your husband?
— I don’t know.
Klavdiya was silent. Then she pulled diapers from her bag.
— Here. My old ones. Washed, but intact. Take them.
When Anna was discharged, Klavdiya brought her brother as well.
Stepan was tall, slightly hunched, limping on his left leg. He spoke little. He carried the bags, then the baby baskets, holding them carefully against his chest.
— Where do you live?
— One room. In a communal apartment.
— Got it.
They rode in silence. Stepan didn’t ask questions. At the entrance, he carried the baskets to the third floor without complaint. He placed them in the room and looked around.
— The radiators are only warm. Get a heater.
— I will. Thank you.
He nodded and left.
A week later, Andrey came. Sober, angry, phone in hand.
— My mother saw the footage.
Anna was rocking the little girl. The boy slept in the corner.
— What footage?
— From the maternity ward camera. The guard sent it to her; she asked him to watch. A man is with you carrying the babies. Who is he?
Anna froze.
— The woman’s brother who fed me. You didn’t come. He helped.
— Helped? He brought you from the hospital like a husband. And what about me? Am I a fool?
— You didn’t come, Andrey. Your mother forbade it.
— She didn’t forbid it! She said to wait until the tests are ready.
— What tests? These are your children.
Andrey stepped forward, raised his hand, but stopped. He looked at the infants.
— My mother says to file for divorce. She says you orchestrated this, I ruined your life.
Anna looked at him. Red eyes, shaking hands, the old shirt.
— Then file.
She turned and left, slamming the door.
Tamara Stepanovna was leading a parent meeting at school number seventeen. She loved these events — standing by the board, speaking, feeling everyone’s attention.
— Today we’ll talk about moral values, — she turned on the projector. — Here’s an example of why it’s important to monitor the company our children keep.
She tried to open the presentation but accidentally clicked the wrong folder. On the screen appeared a video. The maternity ward steps. Stepan comes out with two baskets. Anna beside him, pale, with bags. He helps her sit, carefully setting down the baskets.
The room froze.
Tamara Stepanovna hurriedly began:
— This is my daughter-in-law. She gave birth and immediately ran away with a strange man. Our Andrey didn’t even know…
— Stop.
A voice from the third row. Boris, the owner of a car fleet. His daughter studied at this school. He stood and walked to the screen.
— That man… I know him. It’s Stepan Kovalyov.
— You’re mistaken, — Tamara Stepanovna tried to turn off the projector.
— No. Four years ago he saved my son. A car accident, the car caught fire. Stepan rescued the child, got injured himself. I searched for him, but he disappeared. And now you claim he’s a lover?
The room buzzed. Someone started filming on their phone.
— You don’t understand, it’s complicated, — Tamara Stepanovna turned pale.
— I understand. You just defamed a hero. Witnesses, video. Where do we find him?
Tamara Stepanovna grabbed the tablet and ran out.
Boris came to Anna the next day. He brought a stroller, bags, boxes of formula.
— Where’s Stepan Kovalyov? I need his address.
Anna gave it. Boris left without explanation.
That evening, Stepan called.
— Anna, what happened?
— I don’t know. Did someone come to you?
— Someone came. Boris. He said I saved his son. Offered me a job as shift manager at the car fleet. Normal, with a salary. He says he owes me.
— Then take it.
— I limp, Anna. I’m backup. Who needs me?
— You’re needed. Take it, Stepan.
Long pause.
— Okay. I accepted. Thank you.
The video from the meeting spread across the city in two days. Neighbors stopped greeting Tamara Stepanovna. In the store, the cashier deliberately turned away. On the bus, someone loudly said: “That’s the one who smeared the hero.”
Andrey started drinking. Lost his job — the boss saw the video, recognized the name. Said: “I don’t want to get involved with your family.”
A month later, he came to Anna. With flowers, apologetic, sober.
— Forgive me. I was a fool. My mother brainwashed me. Let’s try again.
Anna stood in the doorway. Behind her, Stepan was putting books on the shelf. Lately, he often came — helping with renovations, bringing groceries, sitting with the children.
— No, Andrey.
— But these are my children!
— Your children were in the hospital for a week. You didn’t go to them. Your mother forbade you to take them, and you obeyed. Forty years old, still doing what your mother says.
— I’ll change!
— Too late. I filed for divorce. Go.
Andrey looked at Stepan.
— Because of him?
— Not because of him. Because of you. Because you’re not a man. Go, Andrey. And never come back.
He left. Didn’t return.
Six months later, Tamara Stepanovna walked down the street and saw them. Anna pushing the stroller, Stepan walking beside her. Holding her hand. The children babbled, Anna laughed.
Her mother-in-law stopped. She wanted to call out, stepped forward.
Anna looked up, saw her — and walked past. Didn’t slow down. Stepan turned and quietly said:
— In vain. Completely in vain.
Tamara Stepanovna stood alone on the empty street. Andrey sat at home, drinking, not working. Neighbors didn’t greet. The phone was silent.
She realized she had lost everything. Her son, grandchildren, reputation. And she alone was to blame.
Anna walked on, without looking back. Stepan squeezed her hand.
— Don’t you regret it?
— No. Not a bit.
Ahead, a crosswalk, green light, spring breeze. The children laughed in unison — and it was the purest sound in the world.
