“What are you doing?” Marat asks, astonished.
I press Daria even closer to myself.
“I brought you into the house. I trusted you with the most precious thing I have. A daughter! And you decided to steal my child from me?”
“Marat, listen to me!” I whisper. “Your daughter is a copy of me as a child. Look for yourself!”
“I won’t listen to you.” The husband brought in his pregnant mistress. And me—he kicked out into the street.
I ended up in the house of a rich, domineering man who was looking for a nanny for his daughter. But when I saw the girl, I realized that she wasn’t the oligarch’s daughter. This is my daughter!”