“If your former boss allowed you to bring children to the workplace, it doesn’t mean I’ll allow the same,” says Andrei’s words like thunder from a clear sky. “Whose daughter is she?” He points at his own child, whom he abandoned six years ago. “You chose not a family, but a career.” “My daughter,” I say proudly, lifting my chin as I stare straight at the former. “And yes—my former boss was a sensible person, unlike you, Andrei Vitalyevich.” He freezes for a second, then looks at my Sasha, and back at me. He tilts his head and asks with his lips only: “From whom?” I grab my girl in my arms and want to leave already, when she turns to Andrei: “You’re my dad, right?”