Never Let Go: A Story Her stepdad never mistreated them. At least, he never skimped on bread, never scolded about school, only got angry when Anya came home late. “I promised your mum I’d look after you!” he’d shout at Anya’s timid protests that she was, technically, an adult. “I know better than you what you can and can’t do! Just because you’ve got a certificate, doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want! Get a proper job first if you intend to act grown-up!” Later, when he’d calmed down, he spoke more quietly. “He’ll drop you, I’m telling you. Haven’t you seen the guy who picks you up? Flashy car, pretty face—why would someone like that want an ordinary girl like you, Anya? You’ll be crying soon, mark my words.” But Anya didn’t believe her stepdad. Yes, Oleg was handsome and in his third year at university, albeit a private one. She would’ve gladly studied on a paid course herself, but couldn’t afford it. She hadn’t gotten in through exams, didn’t like college, so she handed out flyers, delivered newspapers, and mainly prepared for next year’s exams. That’s how she met Oleg—he took all her flyers and said with a smile, “Tell you what, I’ll take all your leaflets if you come to the café with us?” On a whim, she agreed. She didn’t throw the rest away—she shoved them in her bag and tossed them in the rubbish chute on the way back from the café. Oleg introduced her to his friends, treated her to pizza and ice cream. She and her sister only had treats like these on birthdays—money was scarce, and her stepdad wouldn’t let them touch their pensions, insisting they save it for a rainy day. His salary was fine, but he spent half fixing his car and the other half gambling. Anya didn’t complain—at least he hadn’t kicked her and Alyona out. The flat was his; they’d had to sell her mum’s when she got sick. Sure, she longed for chocolate, pizza, fizzy drinks, but if they did get something, Anya always gave it to her younger sister. Even at the café, she’d asked Oleg if she could take a piece of pizza home for Alyona. Surprised, he ended up buying her a whole pizza and a big chocolate bar for takeaway. Her stepdad was wrong to think Oleg would hurt her. He was kind, and with him Anya felt her own inadequacy all the more—she studied harder, took a real job as a cashier, earned enough to buy decent jeans and even get a professional haircut, so that Oleg would be proud of her. When he invited her to his family’s cottage, she knew what would happen, but wasn’t scared—she wasn’t a kid. He loved her, didn’t he? She loved him. She worried her stepdad wouldn’t let her go, but he started coming home late himself, sometimes not at all. Anya knew where he was—at Aunt Lyuba’s, a nurse on their estate, whom he’d been flirting with. Lyuba hadn’t wanted to get involved with a man with two girls from his first marriage, but in the end, she relented. It helped Anya—they weren’t supervised. Alyona cried at first when she had to sleep alone, but Anya bought her chocolate, crisps, and pop, which helped smooth things over. It was late when Anya realised she was pregnant; her periods were always irregular, and she didn’t track much. The other cashier, Veronica, joked, “What are you glowing for—is there a baby in there?” They laughed, but that night Anya took a test. Two lines. At first she couldn’t believe it. Oleg wasn’t happy. He said it was bad timing and handed her money for the doctor. Anya cried all night, but went anyway. Sixteen weeks; it was too late. It must’ve happened at the cottage. She’d thought you couldn’t get pregnant your first time. She managed to hide it from her stepdad for a while, but the bump grew fast. She had to confess. He shouted even louder. “So where’s your boyfriend? Is he going to marry you?” Anya looked down. She hadn’t seen Oleg in a month—he’d vanished as soon as he realised she’d have to keep the baby. Her stepdad sighed. “I warned you, Anya…” He didn’t speak straight away, probably consulted with Lyuba. “Well, you’ll have to give the baby up at the hospital. I can’t afford another mouth. Thing is… I’m getting married, Anya. Lyuba’s pregnant too. Twins. Three babies in one house? That’s madness.” “She’s going to live here?” Anya asked, stunned. “Where else? She’s my wife now.” He wasn’t joking. Every day he repeated it, threatening to kick both Anya and Alyona out if the baby came home with them. Anya knew those words were Lyuba’s, but it didn’t matter—she couldn’t give up her child. Lyuba said, “Don’t worry, babies like that are adopted quickly, and they’ll love her as their own.” Anya cried, phoned Oleg, tried to think where they’d all live, but couldn’t. Then one day, Veronica pointed at a couple shopping together. “They’re still in black after all these years. Devoting a whole life to grief—I don’t get it. Should’ve had another child. Or adopted.” Anya saw the pair often—kind, polite, if a bit sad. She hadn’t known why. “Their daughter died—you remember that coach crash with the school trip? Driver fell asleep. He died, and so did their daughter. Such good people—he’s a doctor, she teaches English. I used to live next door. People brought them angel figurines. Their daughter bought one on the trip, held it in her hand when she died. They just managed to recover it. Someone brought the mother an angel, then others did too. I thought it would make things worse, but it seems to help.” Anya had seen a film where a woman gave her baby to a couple who couldn’t have children. She knew this couple probably could have, or didn’t want one, but she kept thinking about them. Eight months along, still working, she didn’t want to lose her job, and the couple turned up at her till. The man joked, “Miss, aren’t you due any day? You’ll deliver there at the checkout!” No one had ever asked how she felt—her back ached, she had heartburn, swollen feet. His kindness brought tears—she was constantly emotional lately. A few days later, after her shift, the man caught up with her and offered to carry her shopping. She was embarrassed but grateful; he was a good man. She saw an angel figurine in a shop window—on summer sale, apparently unpopular. On impulse, Anya bought it, got their address from Veronica, and went. At the door, nerves nearly made her turn back—hadn’t it been too long for them to receive angels anymore? The woman recognised her, eyebrows raised. Anya silently handed her the angel, bracing for a slammed door or angry words. Neither came. Smiling, the woman invited her in for tea. Over tea, she shared her story, which Anya had already heard—yet it hurt more, sounded harsher from her own lips. “Why didn’t you have another?” Anya finally whispered. “Tough birth. I had a hysterectomy. I couldn’t have any more.” Awkward now—how could she ask about adoption? “We thought about it,” the woman said, as if reading her mind. “We even trained as adopters. But at the last moment, I couldn’t go through with it. I asked my daughter for a sign. Nothing happened.” Just then, a crash from another room startled them. They went to see—Anya worried it’d be a dark shrine with candles and photos. But there was just one photo, light, bright room, shelves full of angel figurines. One lay shattered on the floor. The woman gathered the pieces. “That’s her figurine,” she said softly. Anya’s cheeks burned. If this wasn’t a sign, what was? Anya gave birth right on time. By then Lyuba lived with them and had her twins early. They already had two white baby cots at home; no one bought one for Anya’s child. Only Alyona whispered, “Can’t we hide her somehow? So they don’t know she’s here? I’ll help.” Anya nearly cried, but held back in front of her sister. She’d planned her note carefully. She wrote that she couldn’t keep her baby, assured she was healthy, reminded about the shattered angel. She included all her saved pension money, hoping it would help—these were good people. Discharged in the morning, she was scared to abandon her baby in broad daylight. She sat in the shopping centre for hours, aching, dizzy, but her baby came first. As dusk fell, she slipped into the couple’s block, timing it as someone left with a dog. She had a carrier—Veronica brought it for her, no questions asked. She left the bundle safely in front of the door, tucked in the note and money, about to ring and run when the door opened. The man, their bereaved father, saw her. “What are you doing there?” Anya jumped. He noticed the carrier. “What’s this?” She burst into tears and told everything—about Oleg, her stepdad, Lyuba’s twins, the pressure to give up her baby. He listened intently, then said, “Galya’s asleep—I won’t wake her. We’ll talk in the morning. Come on, you can sleep in the lounge.” She slept among angel figurines, clutching her daughter tightly. When she woke, her arms were empty—her daughter gone. Panic rose; she couldn’t let her go. She leapt up to search, but Galina entered, holding the baby gently. “Here you go,” she smiled. “Time to feed—she needed rocking, I wanted you to rest.” As Anya fed her daughter, she couldn’t meet Galina’s eyes. What had her husband told her? Had they already decided to adopt? “How old is your sister?” Galina suddenly asked. “Twelve,” Anya answered, surprised. “Think she’d agree to move in with us?” Anya stared, baffled. “What?” “My husband explained everything. No place to live, your stepdad throwing you out. I thought, if Alyona stays, they’ll make a housemaid out of her. She should come too.” “What do you mean, ‘too’?” Anya stammered. Galina nodded at the glued angel figurine beside the photo—restored but recognisable. “I think it was a sign. We should help you,” she said simply. “We’ve room—both of you move here. I’ll help you with your little girl. Don’t even think about giving her up. You can’t separate a mother and baby.” Overwhelmed with joy and shame, Anya blushed, hiding her face in her baby’s blanket. “So, would you like that?” Anya nodded, tears soaking the soft fabric as Galina smiled…

Her stepfather was never cruel. At least, he never begrudged them a meal or scolded her about school. Only when Anna came home late did he sometimes shout.

I promised your mother Id keep an eye on you! hed bellow in answer to Annas uncertain protests about being an adult now. I know better than you whats right and wrong! Just because youve finished your A-Levels, you think you can do whatever you like? Get yourself a proper job before you start acting all grown up!

After cooling off, he’d be more reasonable.

Hell dump you, you know, hed say calmly. Did you see the lad who drives you around? Flash car, smooth talker. Why would a posh boy like him want a simple girl like you, Anna? Youll only end up crying, just wait.

Anna didnt believe him. Yes, Oliver was handsome and in his third year at university, paying his own way, and she would’ve liked to study like that too. She hadnt made the cut for her chosen course, disliked college, so she spent her days handing out flyers and delivering newspapers, mostly preparing for exams next year. Thats how she met Olivershe gave him a flyer, and he, instead of taking just one, kept collecting more and then said:

Look, how about thisyou give me all the flyers, and come with us to the café?

She didnt know what came over her, but she agreed. Shed learned not to dump flyers nearby, so she stuffed them in her rucksack and dropped them into the bin on her way home after the café.

At the café, Oliver introduced her to his mates, treated her to pizza and ice cream. She and her sister only had such treats on birthdays; they didnt have money to spare, and their stepfather said their benefits were to be saved for tough times, in case anything happened to him.

He actually earned decent money, but half of it went into fixing his eternally breaking car, and the other half he spent on bets. Anna didnt complainat least he hadnt thrown her and Emily out; their flat belonged to him, since her mothers was sold when she fell ill. Sure, Anna longed for chocolate, pizza, and cans of fizzy pop, but if she ever got her hands on something nice, she gave it to her little sister. At the café, Anna even asked if she could take a piece of pizza home for Emily. Oliver looked at her in surprise, then ended up buying her an entire pizza and a big hazelnut chocolate bar for her to take home.

Her stepfather neednt have worried: Oliver was kind. Anna felt her own inadequacy in his presence and threw herself into exam prep, got herself a proper job as a cashier at the supermarket. The pay let her buy decent jeans and get her hair professionally done, so Oliver could be proud of her.

When he invited her to his familys country cottage, Anna understood what was likely to happenand she wasnt scared. She was nearly eighteen, he loved her, and she loved him. She only fretted about her stepfathers reaction, but he had started staying out later himself, sometimes not even coming home. Anna knew where he wasat Aunt Lindas, the nurse from their street. Hed been giving her that awkward smile for ages, and although Linda had no wish to fuss over a widowed father of two girls, shed been married and divorced herself, and finally gave in to his clumsy wooing.

It worked in Annas favourthough Emily cried at the idea of sleeping alone, Anna bought her chocolate, crisps, and lemonade, so she came round.

It wasnt until late that Anna realised she was pregnant. Her periods had always been irregular, and nobody had ever taught her to keep track. It was the other cashier, Veronica, who joked:

Youre glowingor are you hiding a little secret?

They laughed, but Anna bought a test that evening. When she saw the double lines, she couldn’t believe itimpossible! Oliver was far from happy. He said it was a bad time, pressed money into her hand for a doctor, and disappeared. Anna wept the night through, but it was too latesixteen weeks. The cottage weekend had been it She thought you couldnt get pregnant the first time.

She managed to hide her growing belly for a while, but soon it was obvious. She had to confess.

Her stepfathers shouting was frightening.

Wheres this boyfriend now, then? Planning to marry you?

Anna lowered her eyes. She hadnt seen Oliver for a monthsince shed told him shed have to keep the baby, hed vanished.

I warned you, Anna

It took him a while to say anything. Most likely hed discussed it with Aunt Linda.

Well, if its come to thisyoull have to give the baby up at the hospital. I cant afford another mouth to feed. Im getting married; Lindas expecting twins. Three newborns under one roof is too much.

Shell be living here? Anna asked, surprised.

Where else would she? Shes my wife now.

He wasnt joking. He day after day threatened to kick Anna and Emily out if she brought the baby home. Anna knew these werent truly his wordsthis was Lindas influence. But none of that matteredshe couldnt leave her child.

Dont fret, said Linda. Babies like yours get adopted quickly. Shell be loved as one of their own.

Anna cried, called Oliver, tried to think of a way for the three of them to live together with the baby, but no solution came. Then, one day, Veronica remarked about a couple:

Look at themstill in black, after all these years. Mourning their daughter forever Why not adopt?

Anna had often seen this couplepolite, gentle faces, always tinged with sadness. She never knew why.

Their daughter died, said Veronica. Remember that car crash with the school coach? They lost her. Hes a doctor, she teaches English. I knew them when I was marriedlovely people. Everyone took round angel figurines; their daughter had bought onea statueon her trip and held it when she died. They managed to retrieve it. It became a tradition, bringing angel statues. I thought itd make things worse, but somehow it helped.

Anna had seen a film where a young mother gave her baby to a couple who couldn’t have children. She kept thinking about that couplethough she knew they could have another child if they wanted, and perhaps didnt even want one anymore. Still, she couldnt shake the idea. By the eighth month, still working so she wouldnt lose her job, they appeared at her till. The husband asked,

Love, shouldnt you be on maternity leave? Youll end up giving birth right here.

Anna was strugglingher back ached, heartburn tormented her, feet swollen by days end. Yet nobody ever asked about her, not even her GP, who only nagged. This small gesture touched her deeplyshe teared up instantly, something that was happening more and more.

A few days later, after her shift, that husband spotted her carrying groceries and offered to help. Anna felt awkward but gratefuland thought what a decent man he was.

In a shop window, Anna saw an angel statue, on summer clearance, and acting on impulse, bought it. She asked Veronica for their address and went round.

She hesitated as she rang the bellwas it inappropriate, after so many years? Did anyone even bring them angels now?

A gentle woman answered the door, eyebrows raised in recognition. Anna hastily shoved the figurine into her hands, head bowedexpecting, at best, a door slammed in her face; at worst, an angry rebuke.

Neither happened. The woman smiled, took the little angel, and said,

Come in. Would you like some tea?

Over tea, she quietly told Anna her storyfamiliar, yet so much rawer and more painful from her own lips.

Why didnt you have another child? Anna whispered.

My last labour was hard, the woman replied, and they had to perform a hysterectomy. So, it wasnt possible.

Anna felt herself overstepwhat right did she have, prying into someones life? She wanted to ask about adoption, but couldnt find the courage.

We did try, said the woman, as though hearing her thoughts. We even went through adoption training. But at the last minute I couldnt. I asked my daughter for a sign. Nothing happened.

Just then, a clatter sounded from the other room, as if a glass had shattered. The woman flinched, and Anna peered in. Shed thought the flat might be like a shrinedark, candles, photos. But it wasnt. There was just one photo, a sunlit room, no candles, but dozens of angel figurines. On the floor, one lay broken. The woman knelt, picking up the porcelain pieces, and said, voice odd,

Thats her figurine.

Annas cheeks flamed. Wasnt this the sign shed asked for?

Her daughter was born on time. By then, Linda was fully moved in and had her twins early. Their cribs were readybright white ones, with coconut mattresses. No one planned to buy anything for Annas babyshe was meant to leave her at the hospital. Only Emily would ask at bedtime, quietly,

Couldnt we hide her? So they dont know your babys here? Ill help.

Those words made Anna want to sob, but she held herself together for Emilys sake.

Anna planned out the noteexplaining she couldnt keep her baby, assuring them she was healthy, and mentioning the fallen angel as a sign. She tucked all her saved benefits into an envelopethat should be enough; they were good people.

Discharge was in the morning, but leaving a baby in broad daylight was terrifying. Anna spent all day sitting in the shopping centre, even though she ached and felt faint. But her daughter needed loving parents.

When evening fell, and the city began to darken, Anna slipped into the building as a man with his dog left for a walk.

She carried her daughter in a baby carrier, bought with her own money after asking Veronica for help at discharge. Veronica didnt ask questions. Anna placed the carrier where the door wouldnt knock it, slid the envelope under the blanket, and was about to ring and run when the door opened.

The manfather of the lost girlstood on the threshold.

What are you doing here?”

Anna jumped with fright.

Then he noticed the carrier.

Whats this?

Tears came unbidden, and Anna spilled everything: Oliver leaving her, her stepfather already stretched providing for her and Emily, now marrying Linda and facing twins; Lindas plan to have Anna sign away her baby at the hospital.

He listened closely, then said,

My wifes sleepingI wont wake her. Well talk in the morning. Come on, Ill make your bed in the lounge.

Sleeping amongst all those angels felt odd, but Anna dozed quickly, clutching her daughter.

She woke, reaching for her babyand realised she couldn’t let her go. No matter what. She wanted to run, grab her back, never let her go

She bolted up, but before she could move, the wife entered, carrying her daughter.

Here you go, she smiled. Time for feeding. Id rocked her for you, but shell soon need her mum.

While feeding, Anna couldnt look up. What had her husband said? Had they already decided to adopt her child? How to tell them she was changing her mind?

How old is your sister? the woman asked, suddenly.

Twelve, Anna replied, surprised.

Do you think shed want to move in here with us?

Such a strange questionAnna looked up, bemused.

Sorry?

My husband told me everything. About your situation. I thoughtif your sister stays back, theyll treat her like a servant. She can live here too.

What do you mean: too? Anna stammered.

The woman nodded to the re-glued angel figurine on the shelf, strange but recognisable.

I thought that must be a sign. That we should help you, she said gently. Theres plenty of room. Come live here. Ill help with your little one. And dont be sillyyou mustnt split up mother and child.

Anna felt a rush of happinessand burning shameher cheeks reddened again.

Sowill you?

Anna nodded, hiding her face in her daughter’s blanket so the woman wouldnt see her tears.

Life rarely goes to plan, but sometimes kindness arrives from the most unexpected places. Anna learnt that letting pride or fear decide your future is never wise; sometimes, the bravest choice is to accept help and believe in new beginnings.