There’s a quiet ache that comes from feeling out of place. It lingers. It shapes you. And for much of my life, I let that feeling drive me forward.
After graduation, I threw myself into my career—marketing. I started small, worked hard, and eventually built my own boutique firm from the ground up. Every success was proof that I could create something meaningful on my own. No shortcuts, no handouts. Just effort, and a lot of late nights.
Three years ago, I hired Mikhail. He was quick-witted, observant, and unafraid to ask the deeper questions. He became one of the few people who really saw me beyond the polished surface.
Then, everything shifted.
I had just moved into a new apartment. With work keeping me busy, my assistant scheduled a cleaning service. I barely noticed the details—until a quiet woman arrived one Monday afternoon. Slim, graying hair, gentle voice. She introduced herself as Tatiana.
The moment she spoke, something stirred. Her voice felt familiar in a way I couldn’t explain. I asked her name again. “Tatiana,” she repeated with a soft smile. I nodded, but inside, I felt the floor shift beneath me.
Continue reading on next page…