“Uncle, please… take my sister. She’s very hungry

The desperate plea stopped Igor in his tracks. He was late for a critical meeting—millions at stake—but something in the child’s voice cut through his rush.

A thin boy, seven years old, stood clutching a bundled baby. His sister. Alone, abandoned for two days, waiting for a mother who might never return.

Igor hesitated. Then he sat down.

He offered help—food, police, social services—but at the word “orphanage,” the boy flinched.

“Please don’t take us away…”

Something in Igor shifted.

He fed them, canceled meetings, and stayed. At the station, a social worker arranged temporary custody. Just until the mother was found, Igor told himself.

But at home, as Maxim quietly cared for his sister, Igor saw a strength and sadness far beyond the boy’s years. The children began to fill the emptiness Rita had left behind.

Then came the call: their mother was alive, in rehab. The kids would return to her—unless someone stepped in.

Igor did.

Inspections, interviews, home visits—he went through it all. Because Maxim and Taisia were no longer strangers. They were his.

In a house with a garden and morning birdsong, they built a new life.

One night, as Igor tucked Maxim in, the boy whispered, “Good night, Dad.”

And Igor, eyes stinging, replied, “Good night, son.”

Adoption came in spring. Taisia’s first word—“Dad!”—meant more than any business deal ever had.

Igor hadn’t planned to become a father.

But it became the best thing that ever happened to him