“Mom, it was him who made me cut my hair!” The daughter widens her eyes and points at the man whose legs stick out of the snowdrift. I can’t see his face because it’s buried in the snow, but my worry keeps growing. I rush to help—digging up the stranger and helping him get out of the snowy trap.
— “You?..” I look at the main mistake of my life. — “What’s there—Polina? You’re stalking me?”
The hero from not my novel widens his eyes.
— “Mom! It was him who made me get a haircut. He lied and said they’d take me for the part!” The daughter squeals and tries again to bury her own father in the snowdrift with a child’s shovel.
— “Ma-ma???” Vanya looks at the daughter in shock.
— “Stubborn. You did give birth!”