The Leskov family had long been unlucky. For many years, they had no children.
Olga Sergeyevna, poor thing, tried everything: dozens of clinics, visits to monasteries, pilgrimages to holy sites—she even bought a trip to Jerusalem.
Her husband Pyotr was always by her side—like a true knight, he accompanied his wife everywhere, but all their efforts were in vain.
Then they decided they could become parents to other children.
With that decision made, the couple began preparing for a trip to a neighboring region—where the orphanage was located.
They wanted to adopt two girls. Filled with hope, they were packing a bag when something unexpected happened: Olga suddenly vomited from the smell of the cutlets she had just packed.
The trip had to be postponed. Instead of going to the orphanage, they went to the clinic.
And there, they received a true surprise—the doctor told them Olga was pregnant! At sixteen weeks!
Pyotr nearly jumped with joy—he was absolutely stunned by the news.
At the registration desk, they were about to call security because he kept accidentally knocking brochures off the tables, like scattering rose petals.
From that day, their lives changed completely. Pyotr became obsessed with taking care of his wife’s health.
He scoured the supermarket, checking product ingredients, buying only organic and eco-friendly foods.
And rightly so! His wife—a teacher with a university degree and twenty years of experience!
A few weeks later brought even more joy—an ultrasound revealed twins!
The pregnancy was difficult, her age taking its toll, and Olga spent most of it on bedrest.
But it was all worth it—at the right moment, two beautiful twin girls were born.
The parents named them after their grandmothers—Katya and Anya.
The girls grew up healthy, calm, and never caused trouble.
From a young age, they were developmentally ahead of their peers. The parents were proud of every achievement.
Despite their similar appearance, the sisters had very different personalities.
Katya was energetic and active, swam competitively, and earned an adult-level rank. People were drawn to her, especially the opposite sex.
Andrey, her boyfriend, won her heart with his sincerity and confidence.
They quickly connected, began dating, and soon announced their engagement to their families.
Anya, on the other hand, was entirely different. A homebody who loved books and nature, she preferred solitude.
She didn’t seek out friends, content with her family and beloved sister.
But she had a deep passion for cooking—from the simplest ingredients, she created true culinary masterpieces. Her sister teased her:
— Tell me, how do you eat so much and still keep that figure?
Another of her big loves was animals.
She constantly brought home injured kittens, birds with broken wings, or frightened hedgehogs. It was like a mobile animal shelter.
But her most faithful companion was Grom—a huge Alabai gifted to her for her birthday three years ago.
The once-fluffy puppy had grown into a massive dog, her loyal guardian and dearest companion.
Though Alabais are serious dogs, Grom didn’t live up to his name.
He didn’t bark aggressively or guard territory—he greeted everyone cheerfully, especially Andrey. Andrey would just laugh:
— Alright, alright, not now, you silly mutt!
The dog wagged his stubby tail and ran back to his mistress—he truly loved visitors.
But today wasn’t for games. Katya and Andrey had submitted their marriage application.
There was much to discuss—with parents, relatives, and even arranging a video call with the groom’s extended family.
A wedding was a grand affair, and everyone wanted to contribute.
Summer had begun, and the wedding was just around the corner.
Andrey spoiled his bride with flowers, gifts, and sweet little trinkets.
Katya prepared for her new life—after the wedding, they planned to move to another city, into a flat gifted by her father-in-law.
The day before some big decisions, the couple and Anya went to a restaurant to discuss the menu and banquet decorations.
No way could they go without their family foodie.
Andrey started the car, but something strange happened—Grom, usually gentle, suddenly lunged at the wheels, scratching the tires, barking wildly as if sensing danger.
Pyotr Alekseyevich came out and tried to lead the dog away, fastening his collar.
Katya smiled at her sister:
— You’ve spoiled him! He won’t take a step without you!
Anya was silent. Something unsettled her. But for her sister’s sake, she chose to ignore the anxiety.
She waved from the window and smiled at Grom as the car slowly pulled away.
Behind them came a long, sorrowful howl. A tear rolled down the dog’s cheek.
Pyotr shivered—he’d never seen a dog cry before…
Andrey drove confidently and skillfully. Katya didn’t feel a shred of fear even as the speedometer needle climbed to 100.
Anya and the bride chatted and laughed in the backseat as if on a casual outing.
Andrey slowed a little—the road curved dangerously ahead.
Summer, good roads—why drive slow? The car easily hugged the curve.
And then suddenly—a logging truck burst onto the road! Its trailer swayed violently, the driver struggling to regain control, but it was too late.
The massive truck crushed the silver sedan, turning it into mangled scrap metal.
Soon, rescuers, police, and ambulances arrived at the scene.
Two bodies lay by the roadside, zipped into black bags.
The remains of the young couple were pulled from the wreckage.
The doctors rushed—sirens wailing—as they tried to save Anya.
But she never woke up.
The logging truck driver, an elderly man, sat by the road, clutching his head, rocking back and forth:
— What have I done… stupid old man… I killed them… killed them…
He had been working nonstop, barely sleeping. He dozed off at the wheel. And everything changed.
Instead of a wedding—there was a funeral. Nothing more tragic could be imagined.
The relatives stood frozen, unable to cry.
Only the sound of soil hitting the coffin lid tore at the heart.
Katya’s mother nearly threw herself into the grave—only barely held back.
Andrey’s father trembled with grief. His wife couldn’t even attend—she had suffered a stroke.
The Leskovs were left with one daughter. But it brought no joy—Anya was in a deep coma, kept alive by machines.
Once a beauty, a scholar, an athlete—now she was like a “vegetable”, unresponsive.
The parents were crushed by grief. Even close relatives were afraid to approach—they were suffering too much.
Hope for her awakening faded. Only one person didn’t give up—Dr. Vitaly Ozerov.
He was different: determined, stubborn, a believer in miracles.
He saw possibilities where others saw dead ends. His colleagues shook their heads:
— Did he fall in love?
He had, in fact—at first sight. With the fragile girl lying there like Sleeping Beauty waiting to be awakened.
Vitaly convened a medical board. Opinions were split: some said it was cruel, others believed there was a chance.
The final say came from an elderly doctor who quietly said:
— Let him try.
Vitaly explained everything to the parents: a new drug, a costly surgery—this was the only way to save Anya.
He spoke with such confidence that Olga Sergeyevna agreed almost instantly.
Pyotr Alekseyevich sold the car, appliances, everything valuable they owned to gather the funds.
— Better to lose things than to lose her, — he said, wiping away a tear.
He patted Grom—sickly and thin now—and added:
— You hang in there too, buddy… You’re her friend, after all…
The operation was performed, but it didn’t bring results. Vitaly tore off his gloves, hiding tears.
He didn’t want anyone to see his weakness—a strong man, crying in the corner. All was in vain…
The parents lost their last hope. The money was gone, and they prepared to turn off the machines.
They walked down the corridor, leaning on each other like two old people who had lost their reason for living.
— I left the pills at home. Don’t scold me… I doubt I’ll return after this, — whispered Pyotr.
— I know. But at least let Grom see her. One shouldn’t die alone…
But Ozerov refused to give up. He was ready to sell everything, borrow, take out loans—just to give Anya a chance.
He waited for the parents to arrive, determined to convince them to keep fighting.
When he entered the room, something incredible was already happening.
Anya lay with her eyes open. Grom was jumping excitedly by her side, squealing with joy.
She whispered:
— Grom… I heard you… Hi…
Everyone froze. The monitors lit up, showing faint but real signs of life.
Vitaly stood frozen in the doorway. Behind him rushed in a nurse, then a guard, and then everyone who had been chasing the dog through the hospital crowded into the room.
Anya began to recover. Grom gained weight, ate like three dogs, and became lively and noisy again.
Olga Sergeyevna didn’t know whether to laugh or cry from joy.
Vitaly took care of the patient—as a doctor and a man hopelessly in love.
He brought her flowers and meals he cooked himself.
One day, Anya tasted his salad and smiled:
— You seriously haven’t opened a restaurant? I’d hire you! Though… maybe I cook better?
— Maybe, — Vitaly laughed. — But you love me anyway.
He proposed. She said yes.
They kissed, and Grom, grinning joyfully, tried to squeeze between them with his wet, happy kisses.
