Lada had a difficult life. She grew up in an orphanage, isolated and without many friends. No one came to adopt her, and those who did visit never showed interest. The only person close to her was her nanny, Vera Pavlovna, who tried her best to find a family for Lada.
Before Lada’s graduation, Vera decided to share the story of Lada’s arrival at the orphanage. “You were about a year old when you came here,” Vera said softly, looking at the building. “I remember it well—it was spring, the snow had just melted, and we were cleaning the yard when a police car arrived. Nobody ever found your parents, so you stayed here.”
“Is that all? You don’t know anything about my parents?” Lada asked, confused.
Vera sighed deeply, her voice heavy. “No, nothing. It’s as if you just appeared from nowhere.”
After leaving the orphanage, Lada attended medical school. She was given a small apartment in a new building and started working as a nurse at a regional hospital, balancing work and studies. It was there she met Anton, a therapist who caught her attention right away.
Rumors circulated that Anton had once been involved with Kristina, the hospital’s beautiful endocrinologist, but his feelings for Lada were clear.
“Why would he be with her?” Lera, one of Anton’s admirers, asked. “She’s so thin, and she dresses poorly. Who could even bear to look at her?”
“She’s from an orphanage,” Nastya, another rival, added with a laugh. “Everyone there is strange.”
Lada overheard but acted as if she didn’t understand they were talking about her.
Anton later surprised Lada with an invitation to meet his parents. “We’re having dinner tonight,” he said, “it’s an introduction.” Lada was stunned. If Anton was introducing her to his parents, their relationship was becoming serious.
That evening, Anton took her to meet his parents. His father wasted no time in expressing his disapproval. “You grew up in an orphanage? That’s unfortunate. The lack of parents can severely affect one’s development.”
Anton’s mother, Ida, a former cardiologist, echoed his sentiment. “It’s very concerning. And why didn’t anyone adopt you, if it’s not too personal?”
Lada struggled to hold back tears. “I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice breaking. “It wasn’t up to me.”
Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself, claiming she had coursework to finish, and Anton offered to drive her home, but she declined, preferring a taxi. The cold air seemed to help calm her nerves.
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Anton reassured her. “Don’t mind my parents—they can be difficult, but they mean well.”
Despite his attempt to console her, Lada only wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Afterward, Anton no longer invited her to his parents’ home, and soon after, he proposed. They married a month later when Lada was already two months pregnant.
Lada continued working at the hospital, but when her pregnancy advanced, Anton suggested she quit. Three weeks before her due date, Lada gave birth to twin boys. But when she saw them, she was shocked—they were dark-skinned, as if dipped in chocolate. The doctors were equally surprised, and one tried to calm her.
“Don’t worry, my child was born darker too, but the color faded after a few days,” the doctor explained.
He advised Lada to prepare for the inevitable questions. “If everything’s fine with them, you can’t hide them for long.”
Lada was ready to take a DNA test. “Are these really my children?” Anton demanded when he saw them.
“If this is some sort of joke, it’s not funny,” he added angrily.
“I’ve always been with you! How could I have cheated?” Lada retorted, her voice trembling.
Anton, growing more upset, said, “Your parents were right about you. I stood by you, but now I don’t know who got you pregnant. You’re on your own now.”
Vera Pavlovna took Lada home from the hospital and cared for her and the twins, Igor and Sasha, as if they were her own grandchildren. She barely let Lada help with them, insisting she rest.
“Maybe your ancestors were dark-skinned?” Vera suggested one day. “Sometimes people with dark-skinned ancestors can have light-skinned children.”
Lada looked up from her work and laughed. “My ancestors? Dark-skinned? That’s absurd.”
Vera, growing serious, handed Lada a newspaper and pointed to an article. “This woman has been searching for her daughter. She lost her in a river. Could it be you?”
Lada read the name aloud, “Lidiya Fyodorovna… she lives nearby.”
After a few days, Lada decided to visit Lidiya Fyodorovna. “You look so much like my daughter, Sveta,” Lidiya said when Lada arrived. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
Lidiya showed Lada a photograph, and Lada couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance. “This is Sveta, my daughter,” Lidiya explained. “She was a student who fell in love with a dark-skinned man named Vincent from France. But her parents didn’t approve, and after she had you, they never saw her again. Her body was found in the river.”
“I know she had a daughter,” Lidiya continued, her voice soft with sorrow. “Your grandfather passed away shortly after, and I’ve been paralyzed ever since.”
She handed Lada an old notebook. “This is all that’s left of your parents.”
Lada kept the book close, and for years, she searched for her father. She wrote letters, posted ads, and contacted people in France, hoping to find any trace of him.
Finally, Vincent reached out. “I didn’t start a family, and I’ve always remembered your mother. You look just like her,” he said. “I never knew she was gone until I returned to France. But now that I’ve found you, I feel at peace.”
Vincent offered Lada financial support and encouraged her to start her own business. She decided to open a private medical clinic, which quickly became successful, making her financially secure.
Anton, on the other hand, never contacted her. He never cared for their children, and the divorce was finalized. Lada moved on, leaving her past behind.
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