Gleb Bulatov appeared on the threshold of my apartment to claim rights to my daughter, whom I gave birth to two years ago for a well-off couple. Back then everyone refused the girl, and I was left without the promised fee, holding a baby abandoned to the mercy of fate. I had to go through a lot, but I held on; I grew attached to the little one, and I love her with all my heart, and now I won’t allow anyone to take her from me. Only—besides the child, whom this man seems to have every right to, something else binds us, something I’d rather forget.