“Sir… please take my little sister… she hasnt eaten in so long.” The voice sliced through the morning street noise, forcing Igor Levshin to turn sharply.
He stopped as if he’d hit an invisible wall.
“Sir… I beg you… shes so hungry.”
The childs whisper, heavy with pain and despair, cut through the car horns and murmur of passersby.
Igor had been runningno, flyingdriven by the sense that only one thing mattered in his life now: work.
A million-dollar deal was being settled today, and the contracts fate depended on his presence at the meeting.
Ever since Ritahis love, his purpose, his rockvanished, he only truly lived while working.
But that voice…
It forced him to stop. Before him stood a boy around seven, thin, in wrinkled clothes, with dull eyes and tear stains on his face.
In his arms, he cradled a little girl wrapped in an old blanket.
She was tiny, whimpering faintly. The boy held her carefully, as if he alone could shield her.
Igor hesitated. His mind screamed, *Dont stop.*
But the boys eyes… that *”please”*… touched something locked deep inside him.
“Wheres your mother?” he asked softly, kneeling beside the boy.
“She said shed be back soon… but its been two days. I come every day… just in case.”
The boy trembled, his words shaking with him like leaves in the wind.
His name was Maksim; his little sister, Taisia. Left alone. No note, no explanation.
Just a fragile hope this seven-year-old clung to with all his might.
Igor suggested getting food, calling the police, or child services.
But at *”police,”* the boy flinched.
“No… please. If they find out, theyll take her.”
In that moment, Igor knew he couldnt walk away.
At a nearby café, Maksim ate like he hadnt in days, while Igor carefully fed Taisia from a bottle.
He barely recognized himselfsomething warm cracked the ice in his chest.
He pulled out his phone.
“Cancel everything. Today, tomorrow. All of it.”
Soon, officers Gerasimov and Naumova arrived. Routine questions.
Maksim gripped Igors hand desperately.
“You wont leave us, right? You wont let them take us?”
Surprising even himself, Igor answered, “No. I promise.”
Paperwork began. Larisa Petrovna, an old acquaintance from child services, helped expedite temporary custody.
“Its just until we find your mother,” Igor said, more to calm himself than them.
The apartment greeted them with soft carpets and wide windows overlooking the city at dusk.
Maksim stared, as if it were a fairy tale. Igor felt lostbottles, diapers, schedules were foreign.
But Maksim helped silently, rocking Taisia, singing lullabies, always watchful, as if expecting abandonment again.
One night, Taisia fussed. Maksim held her, humming softly until she slept.
“Youre so good with her,” Igor said.
“I just learned,” the boy replied, matter-of-fact.
Then the call came. Larisa:
“We found their mother. Shes alivegetting treatment. If she recovers, theyll go back. If not… you could adopt them.”
Igors chest tightened.
That night, Maksim whispered, “Will they take us away?”
Igor pulled him close, wordless. *Youre not alone anymore.*
He called Larisa. “I want full custody.”
The process was longinterviews, inspections, hearings. But Igor didnt quit.
When temporary became permanent, he moved them to a house with a garden and fresh air.
Maksim thrivedlaughing, building forts, his drawings covering the fridge. Finally, he lived.
One bedtime, he murmured, “Goodnight, Papa.”
Igors heart clenched. “Goodnight, son.”
By spring, the adoption was official.
Then Taisia said her first word: *”Papa.”*
No business success could compare.
Maksim made friends, brought them home. Igor learned to cook porridge, build Legos, laugh again… to *live.*
He hadnt planned this. But now, life without them was unthinkable.
Yes, it was hard. Unexpected. But the best thing that ever happened to him.
