– Ballet! It is so beautiful…

On Thursdays, Nadya worked as a volunteer at the “Trust” maternity support center. The director of the charitable foundation, which supported the center, was Nadine’s godfather Leonid Rodionovich Kazantsev, an old friend of her dad. In fact, he was almost as close to her: he communicated with her from early childhood, instructed her in the faith, gave gifts and fatherly love. Leonid Rodionovich did not have his own children because he was not married: sometimes he said that not a single woman could compare with his first love, who married someone else, but Nadya did not know whether he was serious or joking.

“Trust” had its own kindergarten, but some mothers finished work later than the group closed, and Nadya helped whenever possible, doing drawings, handicrafts with the kids, or simply playing with them. However, that evening the mother of one girl, Varya, was late – it was already ten o’clock, and Svetlana still did not come for her daughter. An employee of the center called the missing person, but the phone was turned off.

– What to do? – the elderly attendant Katerina Savelyevna, who had to close the classroom and go on rounds, clutched her head.

“Maybe we should just put her to bed?” – Nadya suggested.

Varya was already six, not so little.

– What if something happens at night? Our children are not left alone like this, it’s not supposed to be.

Nadya sighed:

– Well, let me take her with me.

– Oh, dear, if you can, please take it. We have no one here to look after us…

– I just have to go to school tomorrow morning…

– And you bring her to kindergarten, the group opens at seven in the morning.

– Fine.

This, of course, is inconvenient – to run to the other end of the city so early – but Nadya’s Orthodox conscience did not allow her to abandon the child to the mercy of fate.

Varya went with her without objection: she already knew the evening nanny well and calmly accepted the news that her mother was late at work. I had to call a taxi, I couldn’t wait two hours on a bus with my child at such a time… We got there quickly, but everyone at home was already asleep. Nadya gave Varya a glass of warm milk and gingerbread and put her to bed in her bed. That night the girl woke her up crying.

– My tummy… hurts! – she squeaked, clutching her side with her hand.

The bed was wet.

Nadya woke up her mother. They whispered excitedly over the crying child for a long time (maybe not for long, but when a child cries, the minute seems like an eternity) and finally decided to call an ambulance. While they were waiting for the doctors, Nadya carefully changed Varya into dry clothes – she had to put on Ganina’s old panties, which fortunately were lying around on the mezzanine.

The doctors arrived, woke up the others, examined Varya – it turned out there was something wrong with her kidneys – and took her and Nadya to the hospital.

* * *

They got into the ward only after an ultrasound and several more examinations, as well as disputes over documents for the child. Varya was given a painkilling injection, after which she had to literally be dragged in her arms. Four o'clock in the morning also had its effect. But there was no peace in the ward either: a man was arguing with a nurse about a boy huddled on a bed by the window:

– Is there really nothing that can be done? Where is the doctor on duty? And what's that?! – He stared angrily at Nadya with Varya in her arms. – Why aren’t the wards separate for boys and girls? What a disgrace?