A little girl at the 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 carslim, wrapped in an old coat that had seen better days. A gray scarf covered her up to her eyes, but beneath it peered big blue eyes. God, where do children like this even come from?
Sergey Viktorovich took a slow drag of his cigarette and gave her a tired look. It had been a hard day, and his mood was even worse.
*”What? Where do you need a ride to?”*
*”To Rozhkovo village!”* she said confidently, waving a hand in a tattered woolen glove. *”Its not far, just down this road to the right. Ill show you! I dont have money but I can sing!”*
Well, damn… Sergey Viktorovich winced. What an unbearable day.
*”What are you even doing out here?”* he asked, not even sure why. *”Its getting dark. Cold autumn Youre alone at the station. Arent you afraid to get in a strangers car? Where are your parents?”*
The girl sighed like an adult.
*”Moms sick. We lost Dad a long time ago. Shes weak, lying down most of the time. I went to the district center for medicine. The bus was late, and I missed mine. Now I either walk or sleep here. But I wasnt scared to get in your car! You have kind eyes. And your car is nice!”*
Sergey Viktorovich couldnt help but smile.
*”Howd you even see my eyes? Its already dark.”*
*”Not that dark!”* The girl shrugged. *”I notice things. Like how youre in a bad mood.”*
Smart kid.
*”Yeah. Always am.”*
*”How can you be in a bad mood with a car like this? And probably money, too? I dont get it…”* She buried herself deeper in the scarf.
*”Theres some. Not a fortune, but enough. Doesnt mean much when youre all alone in the world.”* The words slipped out before he realized.
*”Completely alone?”* she asked, suddenly serious.
*”Completely. Well, not really Just feels that way. You ask too many questions.”*
*”Heres your coffee!”* Misha finally emerged from the station with two steaming cups. *”We can go!”*
*”Took you long enough, Mish,”* Sergeys voice sharpened. *”I said immediately!”*
*”Sorry The place was chaos. Had to wait for hot water, then they made the coffee. Terrible service…”*
*”Fine. Lets go.”*
*”So, will you give me a ride?”* The girl was still there, shifting from foot to foot. Her thin shoes were no match for the autumn chill.
*”Get in.”*
He opened the door and let her inside.
*”Mish, were stopping by Rozhkovo first. Then home.”*
*”Got it.”*
Years of working for the boss had taught Misha not to ask questions. If the boss said it, it happened. Sergey Viktorovich valued thatloyalty, efficiency, honesty. Those who slacked were gone instantly. Everything went his way, in business and life.
Thats how hed built his empire. Large-scale construction was serious work. Though he had deputies, he preferred keeping a close eye on things. A trained engineer, he understood every detail. This wasnt inherited wealthhed worked relentlessly.
Even in college, hed hauled bricks at construction sites, rain or shine. What choice did he have? Elka was pregnant, rent for their communal room was due. The landlady had warned: one day late, and theyd be on the street.
After graduation, he climbed the ranks at a local firm before starting his own business. It was grueling. Sometimes unbearable. But he pushed forward. He had to provide for Elka and their little girl, Katya.
Sleepless nights, stress, worry Maybe thats why his hair turned snow-white by thirty-five.
*”Lifes tough on you,”* Elka used to laugh, running her hand through his hair.
*”Tough. But happy,”* hed sayand meant it.
His favorite moment? Coming home, holding Katya, singing her to sleep. He never slept when she was sick, teething, or fussy. Hed cradle her, humming the same songabout Princess Katya, the most beautiful golden-haired princess, desired by kings and princes worldwide.
*”Whats that strange song? Did you make it up?”* Elka would smile.
*”Yeah. About Princess Katyusha. How shell be the happiest.”*
*”She will be Im exhausted. Can you stay with her?”*
*”Go rest.”*
Elka was always tired, drained. Shed sleep through the night, wake up weak. At first, she blamed the baby and chores. But it never improved. Vitamins? Dehydration? She postponed doctor visits, afraid of blood, fainting at the sight.
When Sergey finally insisted on tests, it was too late. The illness had spread. Doctors were powerless. Earlier treatment mightve helped. Now? Nothing.
He begged, borrowed, sought specialistsall useless. Elka faded before his eyes, dying in agony.
Katya was fourteen.
Shed adored her mother. The loss broke her. The obedient girl became a rebellious teenwild nights, shady friends, alcohol, cigarettes
Sergey tried disciplinetalks, punishments, locking her in. Nothing worked. His gentle patience hardened into strict authority.
*”Ill go to English class, then well watch a movie!”*
*”English only. No movies.”*
*”Why?! I promised!”*
*”This is my life! Why dont you listen?!”*
*”As long as you live here, you follow my rules!”*
Fights became daily. Even at university, she didnt mature. Just grew tallerwith bigger problems. More demands, more anger.
One day, she announced shed found a job.
*”Where? Youre in your third year!”*
*”A store. Cashier.”*
*”What?! Thats absurd! You need an education!”*
*”I dont need yours! I dont need anything from you! Ill work, live my lifefree of you!”*
*”No! Youll graduate! A cashier?! Do you know what your spot cost?!”*
*”I dont care! Stop throwing money in my face!”*
*”Yes, money! It takes work to live well! Do you know how hard I fought for you?!”*
*”What good is your money if it didnt save Mom?!”* Katya screamed.
Silence.
*”She was sick. We did everything…”*
*”Not enough! You were always working! She was alone! You killed her!”*
*”Dont say that…”*
*”I hate you! And your money!”*
Stunned, Sergey couldnt believe his daughters words. Hed tried so hard. But to young Katya, it was simple: Dad was never there, Mom suffered, died, left her alone.
No reasoning with her.
*”If you cared, youd have saved her! But you built houses, made money! I hate you! Never want to see you again!”*
*”Stop! You dont know what youre saying!”*
She slammed the door. By morning, while he slept, she was gonepacked, vanished. A note: *”Dont look for me. I want nothing from you.”*
He assumed shed cool off. But weeks passed. Calls went unanswered. Shed dropped out. Then her trail vanished.
Months later, he searched. Police couldnt help. Maybe she left town. Changed her name. Or worse.
Now Sergey was truly alone. Wife gone. Daughter lost. Lifeshattered.
Business thrived. Projects succeeded. But inside? Emptiness. Employees respected (and feared) hima man of iron integrity. Work became his only refuge. He drowned himself in it, terrified of stillness, memories.
Yet he refused to believe Katya was dead. Told friends shed gone abroad to study.
*”Can I sing now?”*
Sergey snapped back to realitythe station girl beside him. Posture straight, hands folded. The scarf was off now, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. Just like Katyas.
*”Go ahead. Ill take you without the song.”*
*”No, a deals a deal! I dont have moneythis is my thanks!”*
*”Right.They embracedfather, daughter, and granddaughterknowing that after years of pain, they were finally home.
