She thought her daughter was lying until a hidden camera captured the MILLIONAIRE’S WIFE whispering HORRIBLE words by her comatose husbands bedside!
Dust clung to the windows, but the room was spotless, gleaming after a thorough cleaning. The air smelled of yesterdays borscht and something childishpaper, pencils, innocence. Margarita, a 34-year-old woman with tired eyes and a shadow of worry, buttoned her worn coat. Seven-year-old Alyona sat at the table, chin propped on her fist, flipping through a thick book with no pictures.
“Mom, did you know octopuses have three hearts?” she suddenly asked, eyes fixed on the page. “Itd be great if you had three too. One for me, one for work, and one just to rest.”
Margarita smiled. This fragile girl, with eyes too serious for her age, was her anchor in lifes storm. They rarely spoke of her fatherjust a vague “he left and got lost,” a story told once in despair, now their simple truth.
They were all each other had. By day, Margarita cleaned hospital wards, an exhausting, thankless job. At night, when Alyona slept, she translated technical documents, fighting exhaustion as life slipped past.
“Ready, little thinker?” Margarita adjusted Alyonas hat.
“Ready,” Alyona sighed, closing the book. “Mom, ever think about giving Uncle Valera a chance? The plumber? Yeah, he smells like oil, but he fixes everything. And his mustache looks like a cartoon cats!”
Margarita shook her head, stifling a laugh. Lately, Alyona had “interviewed” every man in the neighborhood, but none passed her test for “dad material.”
The hospital greeted them with antiseptic smells and hushed footsteps. In the dim light, Margarita bumped into Sanya, a 23-year-old nurse with a fiery red fringe and dreams of becoming a surgeon.
“Rita, heard about the new patient in Room 5?” she whispered. “Dmitry Sergeyevich, some rich businessman. Coma after a crash. His wife, Marina? Total nightmareall perfume and fake tears.”
Nodding, Margarita led Alyona to their tiny hideouta cramped storage closet with an old couch. But Alyona couldnt focus. The silence pressed in. Pencils forgotten at home, she tiptoed out to find her mom.
Room 5s door was ajar. A womans voice drew her in. Curiosity won. Alyona slipped inside, hiding behind a medical screen. On the bed lay a man tangled in tubes. Beside him stood Marinapolished, poised.
“Sleeping, darling?” she murmured, voice cold. “Soon youll be gone forever. Then Ill be free and very rich.”
Alyonas heart pounded as Marina pulled a syringe from her bag, injecting the IV. Thenlike flipping a switchMarinas face crumpled into fake sobs as she left, playing the grieving widow.
On the bus home, Alyona stared silently out the window, her usual spark gone. She had seen real evilmasked in grief. Margarita sensed it instantly.
“Whats wrong?” she asked once inside.
Shaking, Alyona spilled the story. At first, Margarita dismissed it as a nightmareuntil Alyona described every detail with chilling accuracy.
Doubt vanished. Alyona wasnt lying.
The next day, Margarita unearthed an old action camera from her past and hid it in Room 5, aimed at the bed. That night, when Marina returned, Alyona staged a distractionwhining for water, buying time.
The footage was undeniable. Margarita took it to the head doctor, who turned pale and called the police. Days later, chaos eruptedMarina screamed as officers dragged her away, her plot exposed.
Slowly, Dmitrynow Mikhailrecovered. His first words? “Thank the girl from the hospital.”
A month later, life settled. Margarita and Alyona baked an apple pie, laughing, when the doorbell rang.
Two men stood thereone unfamiliar, the other the once-comatose patient, now alive and smiling.
“Margarita? Im Mikhail. I came to thank you both,” he said, kneeling to Alyona. “Especially you, hero.”
Unfazed, Alyona eyed him. “Are you gonna love my mom? Shes lonely.”
Laughter filled the room.
From then on, Mikhail became part of their livesbringing books, fixing shelves, joining their quiet routines. On a lakeside picnic months later, he confessed:
“Before the crash, I had everything but happiness. Waking upthat was my second chance. And its you.”
Margarita let her walls down. They talked for hours, hands entwined, until he kissed hersoft, promising.
At their small wedding half a year later, Alyona danced in a white dress, grinning. Margaritas old life was gone.
Home was now full of lightevenings under blankets, bedtime stories in turns.
One night, Margarita found Alyona writing.
“Whats this?”
“My essay: How I Saved Mom.”
In crooked letters, it read: *”My mom was sad because she was alone. Then I found her Misha. Now she smiles. I saved her.”*
Margarita hugged her tight. They were a real family now.
And Alyona? She was already wonderingwhod save *her* next? After all, a good person never hurt.
As for Mikhail? Hed aced his first testAlyonas approvalwith flying colors.
A solid A+.
