Late autumn. The cold wind stirs dead leaves around the silent, empty cemetery. Three figures stand by a fresh grave. Maria is still, her face pale beneath a bright hat, hands clenched in black gloves. Inside her, only numbness remains.
Nearby, Asya quietly weeps; Lena’s face is hard with anger. A priest murmurs prayers, a man shovels earth onto the coffin. Each thud echoes like a dull ache in Maria’s chest. No tears come—only silence and loss.
Suddenly, Maria’s mind drifts to the past: a small furniture company office where she met Alexey, a kind man with calm eyes who offered comfort when she was pregnant. They dreamed of a daughter—Veronika.
But that hope shattered one night at the hospital. After an emergency cesarean, Maria’s daughter didn’t survive. Alexey vanished, leaving her alone with grief and unanswered questions. When Maria sought the birth certificate, she was shocked to find another woman, Tatyana—Alexey’s wife—listed as the mother of a girl.
Confronting them at the registry office, Maria was dismissed and removed by security. Her friends stood by her side, the seed of suspicion growing. The police ignored her claims. At the hospital, the chief doctor denied any wrongdoing.
Then came Anna, a nurse willing to break silence. She revealed that Maria’s daughter had been switched at birth, her records erased, and a different baby registered under Tatyana’s name.
With Anna’s testimony, an investigation began. Alexey and Tatyana maintained their story until Alexey finally confessed: they had conspired to claim Maria’s child to keep their business and status.
DNA tests confirmed the truth: Veronika was Maria’s daughter. After legal battles, Maria finally held her baby—alive and safe.
As the first snow fell, Maria felt a quiet hope for the first time in months. Her journey was far from over, but she was no longer alone. Veronika was home.
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