“You have a beautiful tie,” I heard my daughter’s bright voice. “And you have cute little bows.” I stumbled mid-step, not believing my ears. “Glava?..” rasped out of my chest. Five years ago Vyacheslav Sizov left me. He trampled me! Destroyed me! I learned to live and trust people again. I thought I would never see him again. But fate has a cruel sense of humor. How else can you explain that my ex is talking to my fiancé’s daughter in our house—my ex, the one who was never supposed to know about her. The daughter…