At night, the bride dragged an unconscious woman across the floor, but when she heard my one question, the smile vanished from her face

Exactly at twelve minutes past midnight, such a crash rang out in the corridor of my mansion that it seemed as though the whole house had split in two. I jumped out of bed and for several seconds listened, holding my breath, to the crystal pendants of the chandelier trembling. Then I heard a woman’s scream.

It was not Victoria’s voice.

I put on a robe and went into the corridor. My grandmother’s old mirror had shattered on the floor. Red stains showed on its silver frame, and among the shards of glass lay Maria Bondarenko, the cleaner of our house, who had faithfully served the family for almost three years.

Victoria had seized her by the wrists and was dragging her across the floor.

A small pearl clasp was attached to the shoulder of her black dress. The clasp flashed coldly with every movement, as though it did not belong to this scene at all.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Victoria raised her head. For a moment I saw such coldness in her eyes that I no longer recognized my fiancée in the woman standing before me.

Then she regained her usual, gentle smile.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve taken care of everything.”

“What does ‘everything’ mean?”

“Maria was drunk. She attacked me, stumbled, and crashed into the mirror. I was simply taking her to her room so that the whole city would not learn about this in the morning.”

Maria’s hands were smeared with blood. A deep wound showed on her forehead, and two fingers were bent unnaturally. But what frightened me most was the pocket of her work apron: a small copper key pendant protruded from it, shaped like a house and covered with red enamel. Maria always carried it with her and said that she had received it as a gift from her son Nazar on his birthday.

But I knew that Maria never drank.

“Call an ambulance,” I said.

Victoria squeezed my arm.

“An ambulance? Danilo, think. Journalists will see the car. Tomorrow they will write everywhere that a servant was injured in your house.”

“I don’t care about journalists now.”

“I’m protecting your reputation.”

“I’m protecting a human life.”

Maria’s eyes opened slightly. There was such despair in her gaze, as though she was trying with her last strength to reach me.

“She… everything… about Nazar…” she whispered.

Victoria immediately bent down.

“She’s delirious.”

“Who knows about Nazar?” I asked.

Victoria’s smile froze.

The ambulance arrived. I went to the hospital with Maria, still dressed in my robe and wearing soft house slippers. At two-thirty in the morning, the doctor told me that she had a severe concussion, two broken fingers, and several deep wounds, though her life was no longer in danger.

When I was allowed to enter the ward, I took hold of the door handle. Just then my phone rang.

Victoria’s number was glowing on the screen.

I did not answer.

I opened the door. Maria lay on the bed, her head wrapped in a white bandage. When she saw me, she opened her eyes and immediately whispered:

“Mr. Shevchuk, you should not have come here.”

“I should have come. Tell me, who is Nazar?”

She closed her eyes, as though even saying this one name was enough to bring misfortune back.

“He is my son. He is seven years old.”

“And why is Victoria afraid of him?”

Maria slowly turned her head toward me.

“Because Nazar’s father… is Andrei.”

My younger brother had disappeared six years earlier. Fragments of a boat had been found, but his body never had. The family thought he had drowned.

“Andrei is dead,” I managed to say.

Maria looked directly into my eyes.

“No. He staged his death.”

After these words, footsteps sounded by the ward window. The handle slowly went down, and the door opened inward…

It was not a woman in a police uniform who appeared in the doorway, but our family lawyer, Irakli Meladze. He held a black leather bag in his hand, and his face carried such tension, as though someone in the hospital corridor were waiting to kill him.

“Danilo, you must leave here immediately,” he told me.

“Not yet. Maria told me something about Andrei.”

Irakli saw Maria and lost color.

“She woke up?”

“You knew she was alive?” I asked.

“I knew they were hiding something. This is something else.”

Maria raised a weak hand.

“Nazar… is with the neighbor. If Victoria reaches him, everything will be over.”

“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Behind the old railway station, in the yellow building. Apartment five.”

Irakli went to the door and looked into the corridor.

“Victoria’s people have already been here. I saw two men near the intensive-care unit.”

Cold ran down my neck. For the first time I understood that this was no longer a family scandal. Someone wanted Maria silenced and wanted to find the child.

“You go to Nazar,” Irakli told me. “I’ll arrange Maria’s protection.”

“No. We’ll take both of them together.”

Maria shook her head.

“I can’t go. If you leave the hospital, they will start following me. You must find the file.”

“Which file?”

She pointed to a small bag hidden under the bed. The bag was dark green, and the same house-shaped copper pendant I had noticed in the corridor hung by its lock.

“This lock will open what your father hid,” Maria said. “Andrei returned because of it.”

In the bag I found an old basement plan, three photographs, and a small voice recorder. In the photograph, a young Andrei stood together with Victoria, although the date of the photograph was six years earlier, after his disappearance. In the second photograph they stood beside the greenhouse behind our house. The third was of Nazar.

The child was holding the same house-shaped pendant.

“Nazar received this from his father,” Maria said. “I realized Andrei was alive precisely because of it.”

I turned on the recording. At first there was only the sound of wind and an iron door. Then Andrei’s voice sounded, tired but clear.

“Victoria, when Danilo signs, the factory will be mine. Father arranged everything so that we need only the elder son’s consent.”

Victoria answered:

“And if he becomes suspicious?”

“Then Maria will disappear. The child too. And you will play the role of the widow.”

The recording ended there. My fingers squeezed the device so hard that the plastic creaked.

“This is not enough,” Irakli said. “We need firm confirmation that Andrei really is Nazar’s father and that the recording is genuine.”

Maria tried to sit up from the bed.

“The confirmation exists. In Father’s old office, behind the wall clock. But only one person can enter there.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Andrei.”

At that moment my phone came alive again. It was an unknown number. I did not end the call. At last I answered.

“Brother,” said a voice I had heard only in dreams for six years.

Andrei.

“Nazar is with me,” he said. “If you want me to return him alive, come alone to the old greenhouse in an hour. And do not bring Irakli.”

“If you harm the child…”

“You’re still threatening me? Your family always thought you were the strongest.”

The call ended.

Maria was crying, while Irakli looked at the last paper remaining in the bag. Only one sentence was written on it: “Trust will cost you more than you think.”

Before going to the greenhouse, Irakli gripped my arm.

“Danilo, don’t go there alone.”

“My brother has a child.”

“That is exactly why this may be a trap.”

The first faint light of dawn entered through the window. I put the old key pendant into my pocket and left the hospital. At the end of the street stood a black car whose windows were fogged.

When I approached the car, the rear door opened. Victoria was sitting inside, holding Nazar’s small red backpack.

“Get in, Danilo,” she said. “Before your brother does something to the child, you must learn who started all this…”

I did not sit beside Victoria. I left the car door open and stepped back several paces.

“Where is Nazar?”

“Alive.”

“Tell me the address.”

“First you must listen to me.”

She wore a silver ring on her fingers, and the weak morning light fell on its stone. Suddenly I realized that she was speaking calmly only because she thought control was still in her hands.

“Andrei did not die six years ago,” she said. “Your father took away his share. Andrei staged his escape, and I helped him.”

“And my engagement?”

“It was necessary to get close to you. Without your signature, the factory could not pass into his name.”

The words struck me as though each of them were piercing my bones. For two years I had watched her choose my shirts, speak to me at my mother’s grave, and convince me that the past should no longer hurt me.

It had all been an act.

“Maria did not fall by accident,” I said.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed.

“She stole what belongs to us.”

“The child?”

“The truth.”

At that moment Irakli received the message I had quietly sent from my phone. He told me the police were already on the way, though they still did not know Nazar’s exact location. I got into the car only so that Victoria would take me to the destination.

The old greenhouse stood outside the city, in an abandoned garden. Half the glass was broken, and inside there was the smell of dampness and rotting leaves. It was six in the morning when we opened the door.

Andrei was standing there.

The first thing I noticed was the long scar above his left eyebrow. The second was Nazar, sitting on a chair in the corner and clutching the red backpack to his chest.

“Father, is this the man?” the child asked.

Andrei looked toward him.

“This is your uncle.”

Nazar lowered his head. The house-shaped pendant hung around his neck.

Victoria told me:

“Now we will go to the office. You will sign, and the child will be free.”

I took the voice recorder from my pocket.

“Listen to this first.”

I turned it on. For several seconds the greenhouse was filled only with the sound of wind. Then Victoria’s voice, standing there, sounded: “If Maria resists us, the mirror is the easiest way. Danilo will believe everything was an accident.”

Victoria’s face changed.

Andrei looked toward her.

“When did you record this?”

“Maria hid a small recorder in the kitchen clock,” I said. “But that is not all.”

Irakli stepped into the greenhouse through the door together with police officers. Andrei tried to escape, but they blocked his way. Nazar jumped up crying.

“Father, where are we going?”

Andrei lost his confidence for the first time.

“Nowhere. I was trying to protect you.”

“No,” I said. “You were protecting your own revenge.”

In the greenhouse the police opened the bag. Inside they found forged contracts, copies of Father’s signature, photographs of Maria, and a disposable phone. The final confirmation was found in the office: in a secret compartment hidden behind the old clock lay a letter in which Father wrote that he had never received information about Andrei’s murder and had temporarily transferred his share to Danilo.

Irakli read the document aloud.

Andrei stood frozen.

“Father knew I was alive,” he muttered.

“He knew,” I said. “But he expected you to return one day in remorse.”

“He never trusted me.”

“Because you were trying to sell Father’s business.”

Victoria suddenly noticed some small black device in his hand and said quietly:

“You realized it too late, Danilo. Another person works for us in your house.”

After these words, the police officer’s radio squealed. The dispatcher said that Maria had disappeared from the hospital, while the guards had been found unconscious on the floor.

Andrei raised his head and smiled for the first time.

“She is still with us,” he said. “And if Maria opens the last file, you will not be able to save Nazar’s life…”