From the moment Anya turned eighteen, her life changed forever—her mother coldly told her to leave, claiming the apartment belonged to her sisters, and accused her of having the same defiant eyes since childhood. Though deeply hurt, Anya wasn’t surprised; she had always felt like an outsider in her own home, watching her mother lavish love on her older sisters, Vika and Yulia, while she was given only scraps of affection, hand-me-downs, and ridicule.
Her only true ally growing up had been her grandfather, who raised her with love and patience and gave her fond memories of summers spent in the countryside, teaching her how to garden, bake, and take care of animals. When he died, her already cold household grew colder, and her sisters mocked her constantly while their mother looked the other way. Forced into independence, Anya became a hospital orderly, relying on grit and hard work to survive. Though life was difficult, at least in the hospital, no one treated her with cruelty. Her dedication led to an opportunity for training as a surgeon, and by twenty-seven, she had made a quiet, isolated life for herself centered around work and service. Visits to her family remained painful, and she often left in tears. One day, after such a visit, her colleague Grisha comforted her, unexpectedly calling her beautiful and reminding her of her worth. Though hesitant, she was touched by his kindness, and when he jokingly proposed marriage, she began to see a future that might include love.
Encouraged, she reached out to Dmitry Alekseevich, a grateful patient whose life she had once saved. He warmly invited her for tea and offered her a place to stay and a job at a private clinic, insisting she deserved peace. Grateful and moved by his generosity, Anya accepted and began living with him. Over time, she and Grisha became close, and when she discovered she was pregnant, she was overjoyed, planning a future with him. Dmitry, in declining health, gifted her a house in the countryside—the very village where her grandfather had lived. He asked one thing: to keep the deed a secret from Grisha. Anya agreed, sensing there was more to his story but not pressing for details.
After Dmitry’s death, she moved in with Grisha, but by the seventh month of pregnancy, their relationship showed cracks. Grisha, who had once promised support, grew distant and stingy, even suggesting she go back to work. A week before their wedding, everything unraveled when a woman named Lena barged into their apartment, announcing she and Grisha were in love and that Anya was no longer needed. Shocked and heartbroken, Anya learned that she was merely a placeholder until Lena became available again. Grisha didn’t defend her; he stood in silence, and Anya realized she had been abandoned once more. She left, heartbroken, but thankful for the house Dmitry had given her.
It was modest and without running water, but it was hers. When she arrived, she found the firewood stacked and neighbors who already knew her, thanks to Dmitry’s introduction. Alone but determined, she began settling in, grateful for the chance to start fresh. One freezing day, while tending the stove, she discovered a hidden box behind the firewood, labeled in familiar handwriting: “Anya, this is for you.” Inside were old photos, money, and a letter that revealed shocking truths—Dmitry was her grandfather’s brother and had been asked to protect her. Her biological mother had been Dmitry’s niece, the woman her current “mother” had always envied and resented. Her real parents had died in an accident, and Anya had survived only because she’d been with her grandfather that day. Dmitry had searched for her for years but only found her by chance at the hospital. He had wanted to tell her everything but ran out of time, so he left her the house and her inheritance. With tears streaming down her face, Anya felt something she had never felt before—peace. She had been loved, she had roots, and she had a future. Lighting the stove, she felt her pain and betrayal burn away. She had a home, a child on the way, and a chance to begin again. She didn’t need to prove her worth to anyone anymore. She would build a life full of love for her son and for herself, and for the first time, Anya finally felt happy.