The boss bursts into the accounting department and burns me with a furious look.
— To the office. Right now!
I get up and, with cotton-soft legs, head out into the corridor. My whole body is trembling—I already understand how this will end.
The moment I cross the threshold, he pins me against the wall and, barely restraining himself, says:
— You hid the children from me. For this you’ll have to answer. They will live with me! — His words tear everything inside me apart. — They are my sons. My heirs. I have no one else and there will be no one else.
— I won’t give them up, — I breathe out with trembling lips. — You won’t take them from me.
— You simply don’t understand what I’m capable of, — he says coldly, keeping his gaze fixed.
She: at forty-two I gave birth to twins and for the first time felt true happiness. My boys are the meaning of my life, and I won’t give them to anyone.
He: after a recent accident, I accepted the fact that I won’t have children. But at fifty I find out that I do have two sons, who were being hidden from me for five years. And now I’m taking them—I can’t be stopped.