Her hand was so small, with that special warmthchildren have, gently and tenderly stroking my face. That gesture... that gentle way of comforting... just like how my mother used to comfort me when she was young. Exactly the same.
Miraculously, my breathing began to steady. My heartbeat gradually returned to normal. Those terrible images started to fade, replaced by this little girl's caring face before me. Her presence seemed to have some kind of magic that could drive away the darkness in my heart.
I stared at her in shock. How was this possible? My PTSD attacks had never subsided this quickly—usually it took hours to fully recover. But she... she'd calmed me down in just minutes, maybe even seconds.
"Better now?" she asked, tilting her head, her little hand still gently patting my cheek. "Your face looks better."
I nodded, my voice still trembling slightly. "Much better. Thank you, Sofia. How... how did you know what to do?"
She smiled happily, that smile pure and radiant. "Mommy taught me! Mommy says I have magic that makes people happy. When kids at kindergarten cry, I hug them and then they stop crying!"
Magic. Maybe she really did have some kind of gift, something inherited from Volkov family bloodline. My mother had this ability too—she could soothe others' pain with her presence. Had Sofia inherited this trait?
I reached out and carefully pulled her into my arms. This was the first time I'd ever hugged a child. Her body was so small, so light, nestling in my arms like a little bird. But that feeling... that warmth, that sense of security, that feeling of finding something long lost... made me not want to let go.
More importantly, that sense of blood connection—I couldn't describe it in words, but it was there, clear and strong. Like some instinct telling me: This is your flesh and blood. This is your daughter.
"Sofia," I said softly, my voice carrying emotions I hadn't even noticed myself, "do you know? You're a very special child. Very special."
"Really?" She looked up at me, those brown eyes sparkling,identical to my mother's eyes. "Mommy says that too! She says I'm her most special baby!"
Mommy. Anna. She was raising this child alone, teaching her how to be kind, how to comfort others. And I... I knew nothing, had done nothing.
"Your mother's right," I said, complex emotions surging in my heart—guilt, regret, and irrepressible longing. "You are the most special baby."
"Alex," Sofia suddenly asked, "why do you live alone? Don't you have family?"
The question stung. "I... my family died a long time ago."
"Oh," her eyes filled with sympathy. "Then you must be very lonely. Just like I said."
"Yes," I admitted. "Very lonely."
"Can I come keep you company often?" she asked innocently. "Then you won't be lonely. Mommy says lonely people need friends."
My heart was deeply touched by those words. This child, this child who might be my daughter, was expressing care in her innocent way. But I knew Anna wouldn't allow it—she was trying to keep Sofia away from me.
"Sofia," I said gently, "didn't your mother say you couldn't be friends with me?"
She bit her lip, looking upset. "Yes... Mommy said no. But I don't know why. You're nice—you helped me get my ball, and now I helped you. We should be friends."
I held her tight, feeling that blood connection. No matter what Anna thought, no matter what reasons she had for hiding the truth, I was certain of one thing—
Sofia was my daughter.
This wasn't rational judgment, but certainty from deep within. Her eyes, her smile, her way of comforting people, and this connection I couldn't explain but knew was real... all told me the truth.
"Your mother's right," I finally said, though every word felt like cutting my own flesh. "You should listen to her. She loves you very much. Everything she does is toprotect you."
"Really?" She looked somewhat disappointed.
"Really," I said. "But Sofia, if you ever need help with anything, you can always come find me. Just like now—you helped me, and I want to help you too. Is that okay?"
Her face bloomed with smiles again. "Okay!"
"Now you should go back," I released her, though reluctantly. "Your mother will worry if she finds you missing."
"Mm-hmm!" She stood up. "Alex, are you sure you're okay?"
