"Wait," she interrupted, pulling out her phone. "I have a better idea."
She dialed a number.
"Hello, Uncle Miga? It's Katya... Yes, it's been too long... Listen, is your newspaper still hiring? I have a friend—she's an excellent journalist... Perfect, thank you so much!"
She hung up and smiled at me. "It's settled. The Morning Post inManhattan. It's small, but legitimate. The pay isn't much, but it'll be enough for you and the baby."
I stared at her in amazement. "Katya..."
"Don't thank me yet," she said seriously. "Anna, meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. Now let me return the favor."
Tears spilled down my cheeks once more.
But this time they weren't from despair—they were from gratitude.
A week later, I stood on the platform at Penn Station.
It was well past midnight, only a handful of other passengers waiting in the dim yellow light that cast long shadows across the concrete.
I gripped the handle of my cheap suitcase—everything I owned crammed inside. A few changes of clothes, some books, and that old camera.
Yekaterina stood beside me, her eyes red-rimmed as she fought back tears.
"Call me as soon as you get there."
"I will."
"Take care of yourself. And the baby."
"I promise."
"If you need anything—money, help, anything at all—you call me immediately. Don't try to handle everything alone."
"I won't."
The train pulled into the station with a thunderous roar that cut off our conversation.
We held each other for what felt like forever, neither wanting to be the first to let go.
Finally, Yekaterina pulled back gently. "You need to board. Don't miss it."
I nodded, shouldering my bag and pulling my suitcase toward the train car.
At the door, I turned for one last look.
She stood on the platform waving, tears finally spilling over.
I waved back, then steppedaboard.
I found my seat, wrestled my suitcase into the overhead compartment, and settled by the window. Outside, Yekaterina was still there, watching my car.
The train lurched into motion.
I pressed my face to the glass, watching the platform slide away, watching Yekaterina's figure grow smaller and smaller until she vanished entirely into the night.
I leaned back in my seat and watched the city lights streak past the window.
New York.
