One day, a young thief slipped in through the window of a hospital room.
Valentin carefully parked his car in the only available spot near the children’s hospital.
Unfortunately, the place was unusually crowded that day – all parking zones were packed.
Coming to the hospital had become part of his daily routine: finish work, grab a coffee from his favorite café, then rush to see his daughter – to spend at least a few moments with her.
She had been hospitalized for several months now.
The doctors couldn’t clearly explain what was wrong with the child.
Valentin had taken her to the best specialists, but all they could say was:
“The brain operates independently and controls everything else.”
It drove him mad.
“You hide your helplessness behind fancy words!”
One day, he lost it. The doctors shrugged and looked away.
“It’s the result of severe psychological stress,” one of them explained.
“The brain creates barriers we can’t control.”
“I don’t understand! My little girl is fading before my eyes, and you’re telling me she can’t be cured?! I have money. I’ll give it all! I’ll do anything for Michelle!”
The doctor sighed.
“Money can’t help here.”
“Then what can?! Tell me! I’ll find it, I’ll buy it, I’ll do whatever it takes!”
“You can’t buy it… Honestly, I don’t even know how to explain it… Something special needs to happen. Or maybe something needs not to happen, to let the body — the brain — recalibrate.”
“You want me to visit a witch doctor?”
The old man looked at him seriously.
“If that’s what you decide, I won’t try to stop you. I repeat — standard treatments are powerless. We can only create calm, positivity, and support the body with medicine.”
Then, lowering his voice, he added:
“If I were you, I’d leave her here. She’s already been brought back twice by ambulance. When she falls into these episodes, we might not get to her in time during transport. Here, under constant watch, we can intervene immediately.”
Valentin buried his face in his hands.
He was terrified of losing his wife — the fear lingered in him constantly — and now, his daughter too? Michelle adored her mother. And he… adored them both.
He had to set his grief aside and focus on his daughter’s survival. She, too, was named Michelle.
Surprisingly, the little girl accepted the idea of staying in the hospital calmly.
She stroked his cheek and whispered:
“Don’t worry so much, Papa. I won’t cry, and you can go to work without staying home with me all the time.”
Valentin didn’t know whether to be proud or cry. His eight-year-old spoke like a grown-up.
Suddenly, a shout broke the silence:
“Stop her!”
Startled, Valentin turned. A breathless store security guard was chasing a small girl running toward the hospital.
She had clearly stolen something. As she passed his car, she gave him a terrified glance.
“My God… You didn’t even give her a piece of bread?” Valentin muttered, stepping out of his car as the guard approached.
“Stop! Don’t interfere!” the guard barked. Then, noticing the car and its owner, he added:
“She stole from the shop! I have to catch her!”
“What did she steal?” Valentin asked with a smile.
“A bottle of water. A small roll. Who knows what else!”
Valentin pulled out a few bills.
“This should cover it — and maybe even reward her for returning the ‘loot.’”
He watched the guard walk away, then made his way into the doctor’s office.
Their meetings were usually formal, but that day the doctor kept him a bit longer.
“Valentin Igorevich, I have a question… Today, Michelle asked if she could spend time with the other kids in the ward.”
“What does that mean?” Valentin asked warily, taking a seat.
“I think it’s a positive sign — she’s starting to show interest in what’s happening outside her room. But many of my colleagues worry that after such a long period of isolation, contact with several children at once might be too much for her.”
“I can’t say they’re wrong,” the doctor admitted, “even if I’m not fully convinced.”
“You want me to make the call,” Valentin sighed.
The doctor removed his glasses, wiped them, and sighed too.
“Yes. We want your daughter to recover more than anything… but if anything happens, you’ll blame us.”
“There are over fifteen kids in that ward.”
Valentin stood, walked to the door, then paused.
“Thank you for your honesty. You may be right. I’ll talk to Michelle.”
The doctor looked relieved.
Before entering her room, Valentin tried to force a smile. He couldn’t face her looking defeated — but the smile remained strained.
He opened the door quietly. Michelle turned her head — first startled, then smiling:
“Hi, Papa!”
He thought he saw color in her cheeks.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m okay.”
But Valentin suddenly had a strange feeling — like she wanted him to leave.
It didn’t make sense. She hadn’t seen anyone besides nurses and private room staff in weeks.
He sat down and pulled out some treats.
“I stopped by the shop… Look at these beautiful apples!”
“Oh, thank you, Papa,” she said softly.
Valentin reached toward her nightstand — then froze.
Her dinner tray had already been delivered, but the dishes were completely empty.
“Michelle… what’s going on?”
She sighed and turned her head slightly.
“Come out. Don’t be afraid. My dad is nice.”
And then — from behind the curtain — stepped the same girl he had seen outside.
She looked scared. Michelle added quickly:
“Papa, please don’t send her away! I’ll share my apple with Katia. Where would she go? It’s cold and dark outside. She was hungry and scared…”
Valentin looked between the two girls, stunned.
Michelle was blushing. The girl — a little older than Michelle — stood motionless.
“Your name is Katia?” he asked gently.
She nodded.
“I’m Valentin Igorevich, Michelle’s dad.”
She nodded again, then whispered shyly:
“Your name is really Michelle? It’s so pretty.”
Michelle smiled.
“No, my real name is Masha. But my mom used to call me Michelle… and I answered to it.”
“My mom is gone too,” Katia sighed. “I can barely remember her now.”
Valentin watched the bond forming between them.
Katia sat carefully on the edge of the bed, trying not to dirty the bedding.
“She’s clearly been through a lot,” he thought, as he sliced the apple.
He handed each girl a slice. They took them and continued to whisper.
He smiled.
“Looks like you two have plenty to talk about.”
Michelle gave him a pleading look:
“Papa, can Katia stay? She can sleep on the couch. We’ll talk some more.”
He hesitated. She seemed harmless… but still, he had to be careful.
“Listen, Katia. There are some clothes in the wardrobe. Take what fits and go take a shower. I want to see a clean young lady come out of there.”
“I’ll tell the doctor you’re Michelle’s sister for tonight. But only under my watch!”
Michelle clapped joyfully.
“Thank you, Papa!”
Katia ran to the wardrobe, opened it carefully, and gasped.
She chose a light pair of pants and a t-shirt.
“I’ll be quick!” she called before disappearing into the bathroom.
Valentin turned to his daughter.
“So, my little one, how do you feel?”
“Papa, today was so boring… I almost cried. I asked to see the other kids, but they said I needed your permission. And then Katia came in through the window — can you believe it? It’s so high up!”
“You really want her to stay?”
“Of course! And when you leave, ask the nurse to bring us sweet, hot tea.”
Valentin raised his eyebrows, then nodded.
That night, he arranged for Katia to stay in the VIP room and even paid for it.
The doctor shook his head.
“I don’t know… You’re the father. But be careful.”
“I heard you. I’ll be back in the morning for breakfast. Michelle asked for two cups of sweet tea. Who do I give the order to?”
The doctor looked surprised.
“Two? For her and you?”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll take care of it. You know the saying, ‘Who sleeps, dines.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing… Let’s wait till tomorrow. We’ll see.”
That night, Valentin barely slept. Around midnight, he called the night doctor.
“Sorry to bother you so late.”
“No trouble. To be honest, I expected your call sooner.”
“Everything’s fine. They talked until midnight, then Alla tucked them in. Michelle’s vitals are stable. She drank her tea on her own.”
