“Sir… please take my little sister… she hasnt eaten in so long.” The childs voice cut through the morning street noise, forcing Igor Levshin to turn abruptly.
He stopped as if hitting an invisible wall.
“Sir… I beg you… she’s starving…”
The whisper, laden with pain and despair, pierced through car horns and murmuring passersby.
Igor had been runningno, flyingdriven by the thought that the only thing left in his life was work.
A million-dollar deal was being decided today, and the contracts fate depended on his presence at the meeting.
Since Ritahis love, his purpose, his anchorhad vanished, work was the only thing keeping him alive.
But that voice…
It forced him to stop. Before him stood a boy of about seven, thin, in wrinkled clothes, with hollow eyes and dried tear tracks on his face.
In his arms was a girl wrapped in an old blanket.
She was tiny, whimpering weakly. The boy held her with desperate care, as if he alone stood between her and the world.
Igor hesitated. His mind screamed, *Dont stop.*
But the boys eyes… that *please*… reached something deep inside him, something locked away long ago.
“Wheres your mother?” he asked softly, crouching beside the boy.
“She said shed come back soon… but its been two days. I come every day… just in case,” the boy whispered, trembling like a leaf in the wind.
The boys name was Maksim; his sister, Taisia. Theyd been left behindno note, no explanation.
Only this seven-year-olds fragile hope.
Igor suggested food, the police, or child services.
But at *police*, the boy flinched. “Please dont let them take her. Theyll take her away…”
In that moment, Igor knew he couldnt leave.
At a nearby café, Maksim ate ravenously while Igor carefully fed Taisia from a bottle.
He barely recognized himselfsomething warm cracked the ice around his heart.
He called his office. “Cancel everything. Today and tomorrow. All of it.”
Police arrivedGerasimov and Naumova. Routine questions. Maksim gripped Igors hand.
“You wont leave us, right? Not the orphanage…”
Surprising himself, Igor said, “I wont. I promise.”
Paperwork began at the office. Larisa Petrovna, a seasoned social worker, helped expedite temporary custody.
“Just until we find your mother,” Igor saidmore for himself than the children.
Home was silent on the drive. Maksim held Taisia, whispering to her like both brother and father.
Igors apartmentspacious, soft carpets, sunset viewsfelt like a fairy tale to Maksim.
Igor was lost. Bottles, diapers, bedtimehe fumbled it all.
But Maksim helped, rocking Taisia, singing lullabies, tucking her in with practiced ease.
One sleepless night, as Maksim soothed her, Igor said, “Youre so good with her.”
“I just learned,” the boy replied simply.
Then, Larisa called. “We found their mother. Shes in rehab. If she recovers, she can reclaim them. If not… theyll go into state care. Or you could adopt them.”
Silence. A knot in Igors chest.
That night, Maksim asked quietly, “Will we lose you?”
Igor pulled him close, wordlessly answering: *Youre not alone anymore.*
“Ill never leave you. I promise.”
He called Larisa. “I want full custody.”
Months followedpaperwork, inspections, interviews. Igor didnt back down.
When temporary became permanent, he packed them up, moving to a house with a garden, fresh aira place to grow.
Maksim bloomed. He laughed, built forts, covered the fridge in drawings. Finally, he *lived.*
One bedtime: “Goodnight, Papa.”
Igors heart clenched. “Goodnight, son.”
That spring, the court finalized the adoption. The judges signature was just a formalityIgors heart had decided long ago.
Then Taisia said her first word: *Papa.*
No business triumph had ever felt like this.
Maksim made friends, played soccer, brought kids home.
Igor learned to cook porridge, build Legos, laugh again… to *live* again.
Fatherhood hadnt been his plan. But now, he couldnt imagine life without them.
Yes, it was hard. Yes, unexpected. But it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
