“— What an interesting coincidence,” Ksenia remarks. “Savchuk’s daughter has the same spot on her leg. Exactly the same—as your son’s.”
I cover Kir’s leg, take him in my arms, and press him to my chest.
“— You must be mistaken,” I answer, trying to stay calm.
“And you gave birth to Angelina almost at the same time… The difference is only a few days…”
Ksenia continues.
“And our husbands are different too. And our families are different. So please keep your observations and speculations to yourself,” I snap, noticing that Vanya is coming toward us. I wave at him and hurry to leave. I didn’t need these kinds of gossip.