A little girl at the train station sang a song only he knewand the man realized hed found his missing daughter.
*”Could you give me a ride? Ill sing for you!”*
A girl of about ten stood right in front of the carslight, wearing a worn-out coat that had seen better days. A gray scarf covered her up to her eyes, beneath which peeked large blue eyes. God, where do kids like this even come from?
Sergei Viktorovich took a slow drag from his cigarette and gave her a tired look. The day had been rough, and his mood was worse.
*”What? Where do you need to go?”*
*”To the village of Rozhkovo!”* She waved confidently with a hand clad in a tattered wool glove. *”Its not farjust down this road to the right. Ill show you! I dont have money, but I can sing!”*
This day just wouldnt quit. Sergei Viktorovich grimaced.
*”What are you doing here?”* he asked, not even sure why. *”Its getting dark. Cold autumn Alone at the station. Arent you afraid to get into a strangers car? Where are your parents?”*
The girl sighed like an adult.
*”Moms sick. Dads been gone for a long time. Shes always in bed, really weak. I went to the district center for medicine. The bus was late, and I missed my ride back. Now its either walk or sleep here. But I wasnt scared to get in your car! You have kind eyes. And your car is nice!”*
Sergei Viktorovich couldnt help but smile.
*”Howd you even see my eyes? Its already dark.”*
*”Not that dark!”* She shrugged. *”I notice things. Like how youre in a bad mood.”*
Sharp kid
*”Yeah, well. Thats just how I am.”*
*”How can you be in a bad mood with a car like this? And probably money, too? I dont get it”* She burrowed deeper into her scarf.
*”I have some. Not a fortune, but enough. Whats the point when youre alone in the world?”*
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
*”All alone?”* she asked, suddenly serious.
*”Completely. Well, maybe not Doesnt matter. You ask too many questions.”*
*”Heres your coffee!”* Finally, Misha emerged from the station with two steaming cups. *”We can go!”*
*”Took you long enough,”* Sergei Viktorovichs voice had an edge. *”I said immediately!”*
*”Sorry But the place was chaos. Had to wait for hot water, then they made the coffee. Terrible service.”*
*”Fine. Lets go.”*
*”So, can I get that ride?”* The fidgeting girl was still there, her thin boots no match for the autumn chill.
*”Sure. Get in.”*
He opened the door and let her inside.
*”Misha, were making a stopRozhkovo. Then home.”*
*”Got it.”*
Years of working under Sergei Viktorovich had taught Misha not to ask questions. If the boss said it, it would be done. Sergei valued efficiency, loyalty, honesty. Those who slacked didnt last long. Everything had to be just sobusiness, life.
That philosophy had built his empire. Large-scale construction wasnt childs play. He had deputies, but he oversaw much himself. A civil engineer by training, he understood every detail. This wasnt inherited wealthhed worked relentlessly.
Back in college, hed hauled bricks and cement in any weather. Why? His wife, Elka, was pregnant. They rented a roomlandlady warned them: one late payment, they were out.
After graduation, he climbed the ranks fast, then started his own firm. It was grueling, sometimes unbearable. But he pushed forward. He had to provide for Elka and their daughter, Katya.
Sleepless nights, stress, gray hair by thirty-five.
*”Family lifes rough on you,”* Elka would laugh, running fingers through his hair.
*”Tough. But happy,”* hed replyand mean it.
His favorite moment? Coming home, holding Katya, singing her to sleep. Never missed a night, whether she was sick, teething, or just fussy. Hed cradle her, humming the same songabout Princess Katenka, the golden-haired beauty kings and princes traveled the world to glimpse.
*”Whats that song? Did you make it up?”* Elka smiled.
*”I did. For our princess. Shell be the happiest.”*
*”She will Im exhausted. Can you stay with her?”*
*”Go rest.”*
Elka was often tired, sleeping through nights yet waking drained. At first, she blamed the baby, chores. But it never improved. Maybe vitamins? Not drinking enough water? She made excuses, postponing the doctor. Terrified of blood, shed faint at the sight.
When Sergei finally insisted on tests, it was too late. The disease had spread. Doctors said earlier treatment mightve helped. Now? Nothing.
He pulled strings, borrowed, hunted specialists. Useless. Elka faded painfully.
When she died, Katya was fourteen.
Katya adored her mother. Grief twisted her. The obedient girl became a wild teenlate nights, shady crowds, smoking, drinking.
Sergei tried discipline, talks, even locking her in. Nothing worked. His sweet girl was gone. The gentle father turned stern, demanding.
*”Ill go to English, then were seeing a movie!”*
*”English, yes. Movie? No.”*
*”Why?! I promised!”*
*”This is my life! Why wont you listen?!”*
*”While you live under my roof, youll obey!”*
Fights flared daily. Even at university, she never grew upjust taller. Problems grew with her, more anger, demands.
Once, she announced shed found a job.
*”Where? Youre in your third year!”*
*”A store. Cashier.”*
*”What?! Thats absurd! Focus on your degree!”*
*”I dont need your education! I dont need anything from you! Ill work, live free!”*
*”No! Youll graduate! A cashier?! Do you know what your tuition costs?!”*
*”I dont want your money! Thats all you care about!”*
*”Yes, money! It takes work to live well! Do you know how hard Ive worked?!”*
*”What good is it if it didnt save Mom?!”* Katya screamed.
Silence.
*”She was sick. We did everything”*
*”Not enough! You were always working! She was alone! If not for you, shed be alive!”*
*”Dont say that”*
*”I hate you and your money!”*
Stunned, he couldnt believe his own child thought that. Hadnt he tried? But to Katya, it was simple: Dad was absent, Mom suffered, died while she was alone.
No convincing her.
*”If you cared, youd have saved her! But you built houses, made money! I hate you! Never want to see you again!”*
*”Dont you dare! You dont know!”*
She slammed the door. In the morning, while he slept, she was gonejust a note: *”Dont look for me. I want nothing from you.”*
At first, he thought shed cool off and return. But weeks passed. Calls went unanswered. Universityshed dropped out. Then, nothing.
Months later, he searched. Police couldnt help. Maybe she left town. Maybe changed her name. Or worse.
Now he was truly alone. Wifegone. Daughtergone over a stupid fight. His life, shattered.
Business thrived, projects flourished, money flowed. Inside? Empty. Colleagues respected, feared him. A man of iron integrity. Work was all he had left.
He drowned in it. No restmemories of Katya haunted him. He didnt believe her dead. But anything was possible. Yet hope lingered. Told friends shed gone abroad to study.
*”So, can I sing now?”*
Back in the present, the girl sat primly in the car, scarf off, golden hair spilling over her shouldersjust like Katyas.
*”If you want. Ill take you to Rozhkovo either way.”*
*”No, a deals a deal! No money, so Ill sing!”*
*”Right. Forgot. Go ahead.He choked back tears as she sang the familiar lullaby, realizing that after all these years, fate had brought them back togetherhis lost daughter and the grandchild he never knew he had.
