“Sir please, take my little sister she hasnt eaten in so long.” The childs voice cut sharply through the morning bustle of the street, forcing Igor Levshin to turn abruptly.
He halted as if hed hit an invisible wall.
“Sir I beg you shes so hungry.”
That fragile whisper, heavy with pain and despair, pierced through the noise of cars and murmurs of passersby.
Igor had been rushingalmost flyingdriven by the belief that only one thing mattered in his life now: work.
Today, a multi-million-dollar deal was being decided, and the contracts fate depended on his presence at the meeting.
Ever since Ritahis love, his purpose, his anchorhad disappeared, he only truly lived when he worked.
But that voice
It forced him to stop. Before him stood a boy of about seven, thin, in wrinkled clothes, with dull eyes and tear stains on his face.
In his arms, he cradled a tiny girl wrapped in an old blanket.
She whimpered faintly. The boy held her like she was the only thing he could protect.
Igor hesitated. His mind screamed, *Dont stop.*
But the boys eyes that *please* touched something deep inside him, something hed locked away long ago.
“Wheres your mother?” he asked gently, kneeling beside the boy.
“She said shed be back soon but shes been gone two days. I come every day just in case she returns.” The boy trembled, his words shaking like leaves in the wind.
His name was Maksim, his little sister Taisia. They were aloneno note, no explanation. Just a fragile hope the boy clung to with everything he had.
Igor suggested food, calling the police, or child services.
But at the word *police*, Maksim flinched. “Please dont take us. If they find out, theyll take her away.”
In that moment, Igor knew he couldnt walk away. He just couldnt.
At a nearby café, Maksim ate ravenously while Igor carefully fed Taisia from a bottle.
He barely recognized himselfsomething warm stirred in his chest, melting the ice around his heart.
He pulled out his phone. “Cancel everything. Today. Tomorrow. All of it.”
Soon, officers Gerasimov and Naumova arrived. Routine questions followed. Maksim gripped Igors hand desperately.
“You wont leave us, will you? You wont send us to an orphanage?”
Surprising himself, Igor answered, “I wont. I promise.”
Paperwork began at the office. Larisa Petrovna, an old acquaintance from child services, stepped in to help.
Temporary custody was arranged quickly.
“Its just until we find your mother,” Igor said, more to reassure himself than the children.
At his apartment, silence filled the car. Maksim held his sister close, whispering to her like both brother and father.
The spacious rooms, soft rugs, and sunset view seemed like a fairy tale to Maksim.
Igor, however, flounderedformula, diapers, bedtimes.
But Maksim helped silently, rocking Taisia to sleep with lullabies, as if hed done it countless times before.
One night, as Taisia fussed, Maksim calmed her with a quiet song.
“Youre so good with her,” Igor murmured, warmth rising in his chest.
“I just learned,” the boy replied softly.
Then Larisa called. “We found their mother. Shes in treatment. If she recovers, theyll return to her. If not theyll go to state care. Or you could adopt them.”
Igors chest tightened.
That night, Maksim whispered, “Will they take us away? Will we lose you?”
Igor pulled him close, holding him wordlessly.
*Never.*
He called Larisa. “I want full custody.”
The process was longinterviews, inspections, visits. But he didnt give up.
When the adoption was finalized, Igor moved them to a house with a garden, fresh air, and space to grow.
Maksim thrived. He laughed, built forts, drew pictures that covered the fridge.
One night, as Igor tucked him in, the boy whispered, “Goodnight, Papa.”
Tears threatened as Igor replied, “Goodnight, son.”
In spring, the adoption was official.
Then Taisia spoke her first word: *Papa.*
No business success could ever compare.
Maksim made friends, played soccer, brought kids home.
Igor learned to make porridge, build Lego, listen, and laugh*really* laugh.
He hadnt planned for this. But now, he couldnt imagine life without them.
Yes, it was hard. Unexpected. But the best thing that ever happened to him.
