A little girl at the train station sang a song only he knewand the man realized he had 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 carskinny, in an old coat that had seen better days. A gray scarf covered her up to her eyes, and beneath it peered big blue eyes. Good Lord, where did kids like this even come from?
Sergey Viktorovich took a slow drag of his cigarette and gave her a tired look. The day had been hard, his mood even worse.
*”What? Where do you need to go?”*
*”To Rozhkovo village!”* She confidently waved her hand in a tattered woolen glove. *”Its not far, right down this road. Ill show you! I dont have money, but Ill sing!”*
Unbelievable. Sergey Viktorovich frowned. What an unbearable day.
*”What are you doing here?”* He asked, not even sure why. *”Its getting dark. Cold autumn And youre alone at the station. Arent you afraid of getting into a strangers car? Where are your parents?”*
The girl sighed like an adult.
*”Moms sick. We havent had a dad for a long time. Shes weak, always in bed. I went to the town for medicine. The bus was late, and I missed mine. Now its either walk or sleep here. But I wasnt afraid to get in your car! You have kind eyes. And your car is nice!”*
Sergey Viktorovich smiled despite himself.
*”How did you even see my eyes? Its dark already.”*
*”Not that dark!”* She shrugged. *”I notice things. Like how youre in a bad mood.”*
Clever kid.
*”Thats right. Im always like this.”*
*”How can you be in a bad mood with a car like this? And money, probably? I dont get it”* She buried herself deeper into her scarf.
*”Theres some. Not a fortune, but enough. Whats the point when youre alone in the world?”* He didnt even realize the words had slipped out.
*”Completely alone?”* The girl asked with sudden seriousness.
*”Completely. Well, maybe not Feels like it, though. Youre a curious one.”*
*”Heres your coffee!”* Misha emerged from the station with two steaming cups. *”We can go!”*
*”Took you long enough, Misha,”* Sergey Viktorovichs voice sharpened. *”I said right away!”*
*”Sorry The place was chaos. Had to wait for hot water, then the coffee Service is awful”*
*”Fine, Misha. Lets go.”*
*”So, will you take me?”* The girl still stood there, shifting from foot to foot. Her thin shoes offered little protection against the autumn chill.
*”Get in.”*
He opened the door and let her inside.
*”Misha, we need to make a stopRozhkovo village. Then home.”*
*”Got it.”*
Misha had learned not to ask unnecessary questions. The boss said, and it would be. Sergey Viktorovich valued thatloyalty, efficiency. He had no patience for slackers. Everything had to be exactly as he ordered, in business and life.
Thats how he built his empire. Large-scale construction wasnt childs play. Though he had deputies, he preferred hands-on control. A civil engineer by training, he knew every process. This wasnt inherited wealthhed worked relentlessly.
Even in college, hed hauled bricks, mixed mortar, braved all weather. Elka was pregnant; rent for their tiny room had to be paid. The landlady had warned: a single late payment, and theyd be out.
After graduation, he climbed fast. Started his own firm. It was grueling, sometimes unbearable. But he pushed forward. He had to provide for Elka and their little daughter, Katya.
Little sleep, constant stressmaybe why he went gray so early. By thirty-five, his hair was snow-white.
*”Family lifes wearing you out,”* Elka teased, ruffling his hair.
*”Hard, but happy,”* hed reply. And he *was* happy.
His favorite momentcoming home, holding Katya, singing her to sleep. He never missed a night, even when she was sick or teething. Hed cradle her, humming the same tuneabout Princess Katya, the golden-haired beauty kings and princes longed to see.
*”Whats that song? Did you make it up?”* Elka would smile.
*”Yes. For Princess Katyusha. So shell be the happiest.”*
*”She will Im exhausted. Can you stay with her? Ill rest.”*
*”Go ahead.”*
Elka was always tired, worn out. Slept through nights, woke up drained. At first, she blamed it on the baby, chores. But time didnt help. Maybe vitamins? Or not enough water? She delayed seeing a doctorfear, maybe. The sight of blood made her faint.
When Sergey finally insisted, it was too late. The disease had spread. Doctors said earlier treatment mightve helped. Now, nothing.
He scrambledfunds, specialists, experimental therapies. Useless. Elka withered away. When she died, Katya was fourteen.
The girl adored her mother. Grief twisted her. The obedient child vanished, replaced by a wild teenlate nights, shady friends, cigarettes, alcohol.
Sergey tried everythingpunishment, lectures, even locking her in. Nothing worked. The sweet, understanding father turned strict. Rules, demands.
*”English class, then movies!”*
*”Class only. No movies.”*
*”Why?! I promised!”*
*”My life! Why wont you listen?!”*
*”As long as you live under my roof, you follow my rules!”*
Fights became daily. Even at university, she didnt maturejust grew taller. Problems grew with her. More aggressive, entitled.
One day, she announced shed found a job.
*”Where? Youre in your third year!”*
*”A store. Cashier.”*
*”What?! Thats foolish! You need your degree!”*
*”I dont want it! I dont want anything from you! Ill work, live my way!”*
*”No! Youll graduate! A cashier?! Do you know how much your spot cost?!”*
*”I dont care! You always talk about money!”*
*”Yes, money! It takes work to live well! Do you know how hard Ive worked for you?!”*
*”What good was it when it didnt save Mom?!”* Katya screamed.
Silence.
*”She was sick. We did everything”*
*”Not enough! You were always working! No one cared for her! If not for you, shed be alive!”*
*”Dont say that”*
*”I hate you and your money!”*
Stunned, Sergey couldnt believe his own daughter thought this. He knew how hard hed tried. But to her, it was simpleDad worked, Mom suffered alone, died.
No convincing her.
*”If you wanted, youd have saved her! You built houses, made money! Whats the point?! I hate you! Never want to see you again!”*
*”Dont you dare! You dont know”*
Katya slammed the door. In the morning, while he slept, she left. A note: *”Dont look for me. I want nothing from you.”*
At first, he thought shed cool off. Then, worry set in. Calls went unanswered. Shed dropped out. Then, nothing.
Months later, he searched. Police couldnt help. Maybe shed left town, changed her name. Or worse.
Now, he was alonewife gone, daughter vanished. His life, hollow.
Business thrived, projects succeeded, money flowed. But insideemptiness. Colleagues respected, even feared him. A man of steel reputation. Work became all he had.
He drowned in it. No time to stopmemories of Katya would surface. No, he refused to believe she was dead. But hope was fading. He told friends shed gone abroad to study.
*”Can I sing now?”*
Sergey Viktorovich snapped backthe girl from the station sat beside him, straight-backed, hands folded. Scarf off now, long golden hair spilling over her shoulders. Just like Katyas.
*”If you want. Ill take you to Rozhkovo anyway.”*
*”No, noAs he looked into his daughters weary eyes and held his granddaughters small hand, Sergey Viktorovich finally understood that love, not time or money, was what he had needed all along.
