Lena stood before a crooked little house, clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with an address. The wind tickled her neck, tugging at her light jacket, while inside, she felt as empty as the abandoned homes darkened windows. Twenty years had passed within the orphanage walls, and now she was herealone, with a small suitcase and a handful of money. What came next? She had no idea.
The house looked as if it had been deserted in the last century. The roof sagged, the shutters hung by a thread, and the porch creaked dangerously underfoot. Tears welled up in Lenas eyes. Was this really all she had after two decades without family?
Suddenly, the neighboring gate creaked. An elderly woman in a floral robe stepped onto the narrow path. Spotting Lena, she paused, studied the girl intently, then decisively approached.
“What are you doing standing here?” she asked with concern. “You’ll catch a cold. Its October, and youre barely dressed!”
Lena pulled out a notebook and quickly wrote: *They gave me this house. Im from the orphanage. I dont speak.*
The woman read it and sighed sympathetically.
“Oh, you poor dear! Im Margarita Andreyevna. And you?”
*Lena*, she scribbled clumsily.
“Well, no point freezing out here! Come inside, warm up, have some tea. Tomorrow well check the housemaybe something can be fixed. The men in the village will help.”
Margaritas home smelled of fresh pies and comfort. Yellow curtains, embroidered tablecloths, potted plants on the windowsillseverything radiated warmth, something Lena had never known. A photo of a young man in a police uniform hung on the wall.
“Thats my son, Yevgeny,” the woman noted, following Lenas gaze. “A kind man, barely home though. But you, sweethearthow will you live? Need work?”
Lena nodded and wrote: *Very much. Anything. I can clean, cook, care for people.*
“Listen, I know someoneValentina Petrovna. Very old, needs a caregiver. Familys around but useless. More interested in what they can take. Fancy trying? Ill give you the address.”
Valentinas house was large but neglected. Peeling paint, an overgrown garden, junk scattered in the yard. A tired, irritable woman in her forties opened the door.
“You the caregiver?” she asked, eyeing Lena. “Im Olga, the granddaughter. Thats Artyom, my husband.”
The man in the armchair, beer in hand, barely glanced up from the TV. The smell of alcohol clung to him.
“Lots of work,” Olga continued, lighting a cigarette. “Grannys bedriddenfeeding, washing, cleaning. Shes cranky, might snap at you. Pays three thousand a month, foods whatevers around. Deal?”
Lena wrote: *Deal. Im mute, but I understand and work carefully.*
“Mute?” Olga exchanged a look with her husband. “Even better. No chatter, no complaints. Come on, meet her.”
Valentina lay in a dim, curtained room reeking of medicine and must. Her frail body bore exhaustion; her eyes held pain and loneliness. Lenas heart clenched at the sorrow.
“Granny, this is Lena. Shell take care of you, Olga announced loudly. Artyom and I are away for the week. Figure it out.”
The old woman studied Lena. Something flickered in her gazehope?
*Your name?* Lena wrote.
“Valentina Petrovna… And yours?”
*Lena. Ill take good care of you.*
For the first time that day, the shadow of a smile touched the old womans lips.
“Right, were off,” Olga said, heading out. “Foods in the fridge, meds nearby. Call only if its urgent.”
Once they left, Lena got to work. The place was a messdust, dirty dishes, filthy floors. But Valentinas condition worried her most. Helping her wash, Lena noticed bruises on her armsclearly not from falls.
*How did this happen?*
“I fall often,” the old woman whispered, avoiding her eyes. “Weak now…”
Lena didnt believe her but stayed silent. She aired the room, changed the sheets, washed and dressed Valentina gently. She made soup and fed her patiently.
“Havent eaten this well in ages,” the old woman murmured, near tears. “Thank you, dear.”
Within a month, Valentina improved. Lena cooked fresh meals, read aloud, helped her move, placed flowers by the window, played old shows. Valentina even dusted off photo albums, sharing stories of her youth.
“Lena, youre like sunlight,” she said. “I wouldnt have survived without you. Its been so long since I felt cared for.”
The house transformed tooclean, cozy. Lena scrubbed everything, hung fresh curtains, filled it with warmth.
But when Olga and Artyom visited, the mood soured. They scowled at Valentinas improved state, griped about “wasted” food and medicine.
“Why so much food?” Olga grumbled. “Shell live either way.”
After one visit, Lena found fresh bruises. Valentina wept, refusing to eat.
*What happened?*
“Nothing, dear… Just old age,” she lied, hiding tears. “No one needs me anymore.”
Lena knew she had to act. The next day, she went to an electronics store, explaining with notes and gestures.
“A hidden camera?” the clerk guessed. “Why?”
*To protect someone who cant defend themselves.*
Mikhailthe young clerkstudied her. His smile was kind, his sympathy genuine.
“Got it. This ones compact, good quality. And” He hesitated. “Take it. Feels important. Just be careful.”
Lena hid the camera in Valentinas room. When she checked the footage, horror seized her.
Onscreen, Artyom shook Valentina violently.
“Wheres the money? Hand over your pension! We need a car!”
“Son, Ive nothing left, its all on medicine…”
“Liar!” Olga screeched. “Youre hiding it! And this house should be ours!”
Artyom slapped Valentina. She collapsed, sobbing in pain and humiliation.
“Next time, we bring the papers,” Olga said coldly. “Sign themor its the nursing home. Theyll teach you manners.”
Lena trembled with rage and grief. She ran to Valentina.
*Why endure this? We must report them! This is a crime!*
“Wholl protect me, dear?” Valentina whispered, gripping Lenas hand. “Im old, sick. Theyre young, strong. Whod believe me? And where would I go?”
*I believe you. And others will too.*
Lena sprinted to Margaritas.
*Is Yevgeny home?* she wrote, breathless.
“He iswhats wrong?” Margarita fretted, seeing her panic.
Lena showed the footage. Yevgeny, a resolute 35-year-old officer, watched and stood immediately.
“This is criminalassault, threats, extortion. We go now, before they flee.”
“Mom, call an ambulance for Valentina,” he said, grabbing his uniform. “We need her injuries documented.”
Chaos erupted at the house. Olga and Artyom screamed it was staged, but the video was undeniable.
“Its edited! Wed never hurt her!”
“Forensics will confirm,” Yevgeny said calmly, cuffing them. “Youre detained for assault and extortion.”
Lena stood by Valentina, holding her hand.
Valentina was hospitalized. Doctors found broken ribs, bruisesevidence of prolonged abuse.
“Without you,” a doctor said, “itd have been too late. At her age, these injuries can kill.”
Lena stayed alone in the big house until Margarita offered, “Live with me till Valentina recovers. Youre a hero, girl. Few wouldve acted.”
Two weeks later, Valentina returned homeweak, but her eyes held light.
“Lena, you saved me,” she said, hugging her. “How can I thank you?”
*Just get better and live peacefully.*
“Know what?” Valentina squeezed her hand. “Im leaving you the house. Its yours. Youve earned it more than my family.”
Lena tried refusing, but Valentina insisted.
“Youve earned it. For now, live herecare for me not as a client, but as a granddaughter. A real one.”
Life improved daily. Olga and Artyom got probation, banned from contacting Valentina. They vanished.
Mikhail visited oftenhe was Margaritas grandson, admiring Lenas bravery.
“Lena,” he said one day in the garden, “have you tried voice therapy? MaybeShe leaned into the warmth of his hand, whispering her first full sentence with quiet certainty, “I love youand Ill never let silence win again.”
