“You have to help me. I looked at the one I tried for six long years to forget,” he said, and he let out a breath. “Why?” “Because I’m dying, Vasnetsov. You have to take care of Lera.” In front of his mind’s eye appeared a child sitting in the next room. “Maybe you should speak to her father?” he asked quietly. And he heard his own sentence: “You are her father, Vasnetsov.” I had no idea my beloved woman had given me a child—until she came and announced that I have a daughter…