In the middle of the night, the phone rang sharply.
Anna jolted and, holding back her anxiety, grabbed the receiver.
She had always been terrified of late-night calls from unknown numbers.
It had only happened twice in her life—when her mother passed away and when her husband died in a car accident.
“Anna Sergeyevna?” a strange voice asked.
Her mind screamed, “Say it’s a mistake, hang up, and go back to sleep.”
But her lips betrayed her, and she answered:
“Yes, I’m listening.”
A chill ran down her spine, and her palms immediately began to sweat.
“Anna Sergeyevna, sorry to bother you. I don’t know your patronymic completely. We brought Maria Petrovna Sokolova to the hospital, and she asked me to inform you about it.”
A ringing sound filled her ears.
Maria Petrovna—Anna’s mother-in-law, the only close family left after all her losses.
“What happened to her? Where is she? I’m coming right now,” Anna blurted out.
“Please calm down. She’s in cardiology, had a heart attack. She’s in intensive care, but you won’t be allowed to see her. The situation is under control, it’s serious but stable. You can come in the morning or call in a couple of hours. Everything will be fine, please don’t worry.”
The connection was cut off, but Anna couldn’t come to her senses.
How could this be?
Maria Petrovna always seemed like a pillar of strength.
It was she who supported Anna after Pavel’s death, even though, logically, it should have been the other way around.
And now—a heart attack… She had never complained about her health.
What could have caused such an attack?
Anna wiped her tears and got up from the bed, determined.
Sleep was definitely out of the question now.
There had to be a doctor on duty at the hospital who could provide more details.
Maybe her mother-in-law needed something—water, clothes.
She frantically packed, remembering Maria Petrovna’s country house, where she spent most of the year.
Anna loved visiting her there.
The yard was always in perfect condition—neat beds, well-kept flower beds.
You could pick something straight off a bush, and it was always incredibly delicious.
In the emergency room, the nurse looked at Anna with disapproval:
“I was pretty sure you’d come anyway. I clearly told you that the patient is in intensive care, and they won’t let you in.”
“And the doctor? Can I speak to the doctor?” Anna insisted.
“Doctors are available during the day.”
Anna stubbornly sat down on a chair:
“I’m not leaving until I talk to a doctor. Besides, she may need something.”
The nurse shook her head:
“She doesn’t need anything right now. Unless… when she was brought in, she kept mumbling deliriously that she hadn’t watered the tomatoes, and they would die.”
After a pause, she added, “Wait here. I’ll ask the doctor if he can talk to you.”
The doctor came but didn’t provide much information.
The nurse had already explained everything correctly.
There was no immediate need for anything—neither today nor tomorrow.
In a few days, she could call the ward, and they would provide more details.
Anna looked at him through her tears:
“Doctor…”
“Don’t worry too much,” he said gently.
“She’s a strong woman; I think she’ll be fine.
Perhaps some event shook her deeply.
Like this, suddenly.
And her heart couldn’t handle it.”
Leaving the hospital, Anna thought about the nurse’s words.
Her mother-in-law was worried about the garden.
That meant she needed to go to the dacha and tidy everything up.
She would take a few days off and take care of the yard.
“I should have thought about this earlier,” Anna scolded herself as she walked home.
“How could I have not helped an elderly person?”
And how could she have done otherwise?
Maria Petrovna was not a stranger to her.
Their relationship had always been warm.
She had genuinely loved her son and accepted Anna right away, and Anna…
Pavel and his mother were incredibly close.
They communicated like friends—joking, laughing.
When Maria Petrovna once got pneumonia, Pavel dropped everything and stayed at the hospital until the doctors said the danger had passed.
His mother, in turn, would panic if her son didn’t pick up the phone.
Though, to be fair, despite all her love, she was never intrusive.
It was already morning rush hour when Anna finally packed her bag.
She sighed with satisfaction and picked up the phone—now she would call her boss, and then she could go.
The dacha was about a half-hour drive away.
She had a car—Pavel had bought it shortly before the accident.
But after his death, Anna hadn’t been able to bring herself to drive it even once.
The country house greeted her silently and sadly.
Anna smiled at it, as though it were alive: “Don’t be sad, everything will be fine.”
As usual, Maria Petrovna’s place was in perfect order.
Anna walked around the yard—everything was weeded, the flowers were beautiful.
Now she would water the potted plants, as they needed watering twice a day, and take care of the rest later, when the sun wasn’t so harsh.
That’s what her mother-in-law had taught her when Anna used to visit her dacha.
“Ana, is that you?”
The young woman turned around.
A neighbor was hurrying toward her.
“Yes, hello.”
“Hello, Ana. What happened to Masha? The other day I went into town for groceries, came back, and she had already been taken away.”
“She had a heart attack. She’s in intensive care now.
But the doctor reassured me that everything will be fine.
He said it was due to some stress.”
“Stress? It’s always quiet and peaceful here.”
“Who called the ambulance?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know. I thought you knew.”
“People have been coming and going lately,” the neighbor added.
“Pensions are being paid the day before.”
Anna sighed.
It seemed that finding out what exactly happened wasn’t going to be easy.
She unpacked her things—planning to stay for a week—and went outside to water the flowers.
When Maria Petrovna got better, she would be happy.
Once, this little house was completely different.
This was where her mother-in-law had been born and lived with her parents.
Later, the family moved to the city, and the house stood empty for a long time.
When Pavel grew up, they renovated it entirely.
Now it was a small but modern and cozy home.
Anna took the watering can, remembering that the flowers needed warm water.
After watering, she decided to replenish her water supply and headed toward the well.
She had just bent down to grab the bucket when she heard:
“Can I help?”
Anna straightened quickly.
The voice belonged to a man.
She turned around—and the world went dark before her eyes.
There stood Pavel.
“What’s wrong with you? Wake up! What’s happening?”
Anna opened her eyes.
A stranger was leaning over her, looking at her face with concern.
“Strange people live here,” he mumbled.
“I show up, and everyone faints. Should I call a doctor?”
Now Anna saw more clearly.
It wasn’t her husband.
Different eyes.
The tooth that was slightly crooked in Pavel’s mouth was missing.
And other small details… a double.
But remarkably similar.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“And why do you look so much like Pavel?”
“Like Pavel?” the man repeated.
“Interesting. Let me help you up.”
Anna stood up, brushed off her clothes:
“Who are you? I’ve never seen you here before. Did you cause Maria Petrovna’s illness?”
“Did I cause that woman’s illness?” he nodded.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t even know her name.
I had no idea she would react like this.
I just wanted to figure something out.
Now I understand I found the right place.”
Anna pointed to the house:
“Come inside, or if the neighbors see you, they might faint too.”
“I look that much like someone?” the man asked in surprise.
“Probably the one I’m looking for.
Why does everyone react like this?”
“You look like my husband.
Maria Petrovna’s son.
He died two years ago.”
The man froze for a moment:
“He’s dead?
It can’t be…
I really hoped to meet him.”
Anna entered the house and silently prepared tea—for herself and the guest.
She sat at the table.
“If you don’t explain everything now, I’ll just lose my mind.”
The guest sighed:
“I only found out about all this recently.
I started digging, studying the archives.
I can tell you what I know so far.
Of course, I planned to clarify things here, but now I’m not so sure.
Looks like asking your mother-in-law will have to wait.”
“We’ll ask her, but later.
Tell me everything.”
“When I turned twenty-seven, my mom finally collapsed.
Everyone knew it was the end.
And right before her death, she confessed:
I wasn’t her real son.
She said that twenty-seven years ago, they brought her to the maternity hospital—her, another woman from the village, and a very young girl, pregnant with twins.
My mom and the other woman arrived at the same time, both pregnancies were extremely difficult, so they brought them in early.
No one expected a good outcome.”
Everything happened as expected: neither the other woman nor my mother could give birth to healthy children.
My mom held on longer, but the other woman barely survived.
She had a boy, and my mom had one too.
Then, a day later, a girl with twins came to their ward.
She was crying, begging them to take her sons because she was alone: the father had disappeared, and she had no relatives.
I don’t know how they managed it, but when the two women left the maternity hospital, they both had babies in their arms, and no one suspected anything.
The girl was given a death certificate for her babies.
That’s the whole story.”
My mom remembered only the name of the village where the woman was from.
The thing is, there are three such villages in our area.
Yours is the third.
And it seems I finally found the place I needed.”
Anna remained silent.
Her face turned pale.
“I don’t understand…
Did Maria Petrovna know about this?”
The man shrugged:
“My mom didn’t have time to tell her.”
“I didn’t want to scare her,” he continued.
“I just planned to ask the locals.”
“I see,” Anna nodded.
“Yes, now a lot makes sense.
But what to do next, I have no idea.
My mother-in-law is in critical condition, having had a heart attack.
I don’t even know how to talk about this.”
“Then we’ll have to wait.
If she remembers me, we’ll figure it out.
If not, I’ll just leave.
I only wanted to meet my brother.”
“And your mom?
Don’t you want to find her?”
The man shook his head:
“No, I don’t want to.”
“You’re wrong,” Anna disagreed.
“Maybe she had serious reasons.
She didn’t just abandon you.
She made sure you lived a normal life.”
That night, the phone rang again.
Anna grabbed the receiver.
“Please, let nothing else go wrong,” she thought.
“Hello?”
“Anechka, it’s Maria Petrovna, dear.
How are you?”
“Maria Petrovna!
How are you feeling?”
“I’m not supposed to talk yet, but I begged the nurse to give me the phone.
Anechka, you need to go back to the dacha.
Pavel’s brother is there, understand?
Don’t let him leave.
I’ll explain everything to you.”
“Maria Petrovna, we’ve already met.
He’s waiting for you.”
Maria Petrovna immediately calmed down:
“That’s good.
That’s right.
I must tell him about his mother.
I’m sorry, Anechka, for not telling you earlier.”
“Did Pavel know?”
“No, he always thought we were family.
And we were.”
Two weeks later, Maria Petrovna was discharged.
Mikhail—Pavel’s brother—met her with Anna.
The mother-in-law hugged him like a son.
They went to the cemetery.
They stopped by Pavel’s grave.
“I asked to bury him here because…,” Maria Petrovna took a step aside.
“And nearby lies your mother.”
Mikhail stepped over the fence.
“I helped her as much as I could,” Maria Petrovna whispered.
“Natasha fought for seven years.
Seven long years.
Then she gave up.
She was a good person, but very unhappy.
Misfortune seemed to chase her throughout her life.”
“Don’t judge her too harshly.
She truly couldn’t cope.
You three would have died.
She came to see me a few times when Pavel was still little.
She said she saw you, but your adoptive mother asked her not to show up again.
Natasha never could build her life.
The guilt ate her up inside.”
They sat on the cemetery for a long time.
Maria Petrovna spoke, and Anna and Mikhail listened carefully.
In the evening, they all returned to the dacha.
Maria Petrovna looked intently at the guest:
“Mishenka, please don’t disappear.”
“Why would I?” he smiled.
“I’ve been thinking for two days about moving here permanently.”
A year later, Maria Petrovna called Anna and looked at her seriously:
“Anechka, do you think I don’t notice what’s going on?”
Anna immediately burst into tears:
“Forgive me, forgive me…
I never thought something like this could happen.”
“What are you asking forgiveness for?
Stop,” her mother-in-law said softly.
“On the contrary, I want to say it’s time for you to stop hiding.
You need to formalize your relationship.”
Anna looked at her in surprise:
“You’re not against it?”
“No, Anechka, I’m only for it.
I really hope you both stay with me.
Forgive my old selfishness.”
And a year later, they had a daughter named Vera.
