When Mary was very young, she loved fairy tales. At first, her mother read her stories from thick, colorful books. Then Mary learned to read on her own, and the world of princesses, brave knights, witches, and enchanted forests opened up to her like a secret kingdom.

Every time she closed a book, Mary believed that one day a real fairy tale would happen in her own life. She was sure of it. The happy endings, the magic, the miracles—somehow, she felt they were waiting just ahead.

It turned out she was right about dreams coming true. Only her fairy tale was a terrible one.

First, her mother died.

It was so unfair that it refused to make sense in Mary’s little head. No more Mom? The words themselves didn’t fit together. Everyone else still had a mother. Even the weird Charles down the street had a mom. Even imaginative Lauren did, and her mother wasn’t young or beautiful at all.

How could Mary be the one without a mom?

She couldn’t believe, back then, that her mother would never again walk into their house, never again make a delicious breakfast, never again roll around in bed with her, laughing and pillow-fighting on lazy weekends.

It seemed to Mary that everyone around her was pretending. They were hiding the truth that was so clear to her: if her mom hadn’t died, then she must have been enchanted by an evil witch and had fallen into a fairy-tale sleep. That was the only explanation.

When she asked her dad to wake Mom up, he cried.

And then, a year later, another woman appeared in the house.

“This is Aunt Emily,” Mary’s dad explained gently. “She will be your new mom.”

“No,” Mary replied, backing away from the smiling “aunt.” “I don’t need any new mom.”

“Of course you do,” Dad insisted.

He grabbed his daughter and pulled her closer as if he could drag her into this new reality by force.

“Emily is good with kids,” he said. “She’s a teacher. I’m sure you’ll become friends.”

“Not ever,” Mary declared. “She should leave.”

And then, for the first time in her life, her dad slapped her.

It didn’t really hurt. But it was the most painful thing that had ever happened to her.

Mary spent the whole day in her room, crying into her pillow. When hunger finally drove her out of hiding, Aunt Emily stood in the kitchen doorway like a guard.

“You’ll only get food,” Emily said in a bright, cheerful voice, “if you call me Mom.”

That evening, the tearful girl went to sleep hungry.

Contrary to Mary’s expectations, her father did not send the evil witch away. Instead, Emily soon became the full-fledged mistress of the house. She rearranged the furniture, changed the curtains, filled the fridge with new food, and slowly erased every trace of Mary’s mother.

Everything followed the plot of a fairy tale about a stepmother and a poor stepdaughter. Even the part where the father got sick.

He suffered for a long time. The illness consumed him from the inside, hollowing him out day by day. It was terrifying for twelve-year-old Mary to see him like that—emaciated, pale, with a thin IV needle protruding from his hand.

“I’m going to die soon,” her father said one day, very simply and matter-of-factly.

He thought he could handle life without Mary’s mother, that he could raise their daughter alone and still go on. But it hadn’t worked out.

“Forgive me, Emily,” he whispered, his voice barely more than air. “It seems I’m a one-woman man. Keep living, I beg you. You and Mary… don’t leave.”

“What are you talking about, my love? Of course I won’t leave,” his new wife said, holding his hand.

But for some reason, Mary knew it was a lie.

Soon after, her father passed away. When the dust settled, it turned out that he had left all of his money to his daughter. Aunt Emily became Mary’s legal guardian.

At first, Emily dipped into the girl’s funds discreetly, as if testing the water. Then, feeling completely untouchable, she went all out.

It didn’t even take half a year for the widow to find a new husband—young, brash, with the buff physique of a fitness trainer. He moved into the house, bringing with him heavy cologne and loud laughter.

Mary increasingly locked herself in her room so as not to hear or see them. When she couldn’t stand the walls, she went out to wander the city.

She did well in school. Her teachers had no complaints about her. She dressed neatly in the same few outfits, always clean and pressed. But she never went on class trips. She never joined in on anything that required money.

Most people thought she was just very introverted, and so nobody bothered her with questions.

The real reason was different: Mary had no money. Not even pocket money, let alone enough to ask her stepmother for a large sum for a trip.

Emily controlled every cent of the inheritance.

Mary endured and waited for the day when she could claim her inheritance rights and leave the house that had ceased to be a home. She counted the years in her head, like tally marks on the wall of a prison cell.

Things got even worse when her stepmother decided that her young husband was paying too much attention to his twelve-year-old stepdaughter.

She constantly watched them, caused scenes over nothing, and one day, unable to control herself, she struck Mary with a hot frying pan.

The girl managed to shield herself with her arm. The pan caught her forearm, leaving a burn mark that would never truly fade.

Mary’s already bitter life turned into a nightmare.

She would never forget the day when her enraged stepmother grabbed her and dangled her over the balcony railing, threatening to throw her from the seventh floor.

Staring into the crazed eyes of the madwoman, Mary screamed and screamed until her stepmother’s husband ran out and restrained his wife. Mary gasped for air, clutching her throat with both hands, but for some reason only hoarse, broken sounds came out.

She didn’t know yet that her voice had disappeared completely.

That evening, huddled under the covers, Mary overheard snatches of conversation through the thin wall.

“What have you done?” her husband yelled. “Now she’ll definitely go to the police and spill everything. You’ve really messed up! Sit down, you idiot. Say goodbye to the sweet life on that kid’s money and hello to prison. How foolish do you have to be to mess up so badly?”

“She won’t go,” the stepmother declared suddenly.

Mary’s skin went cold.

“I’ll handle it,” Emily said.

“What else have you planned?” the clearly frightened man shouted. “Remember, I won’t sign up for anything like that.”

“I know,” Emily responded coldly. “You’re a coward. I’ll take her away to the countryside. To my granny. As if for some fresh air and recovery. It’s a remote place, and all sorts of people can be encountered there. Plus there’s a deep river nearby. Anything can happen.”

“I haven’t heard of that,” the man muttered.

Mary stopped listening. Her ears were ringing, her heart pounding wildly.

What should she do? Go to the police like this—without a voice? She couldn’t even explain what had happened. She could write it down on paper, but her stepmother would just deny everything, saying there were no witnesses.

A little girl’s story wouldn’t be enough to implicate an “honest” woman.

So Emily would take her to the wilderness and get rid of her.

Mary had to make a decision.

In the morning, her stepmother ordered Mary to get ready. Her voice still hadn’t returned, so she couldn’t call for help.

Aunt Emily packed her things into a big bag, including Mary’s documents. With each passing minute, Mary became more terrified.

I’ll run away along the way, she decided.

Her stepmother drove her out of the city, and they traveled through completely unfamiliar places. Mary had never been in this area before. There weren’t many settlements along the way. The asphalt road turned into a dirt track, and then that track slowly disappeared into dense thickets.

Trees closed in on them from both sides as if leaning down to peer at the intruders who dared disturb their peace.

Mary desperately needed to use the bathroom and tried to convey this to her stepmother with inarticulate sounds and gestures.

At first, Emily ignored her. Then, realizing that the “cursed” girl might ruin her seats, she clicked her tongue and stopped the car.

She forcibly pulled Mary out of the car.

“Well, go ahead. What are you waiting for? There’s no one here,” she said, pointing directly at the road.

Mary shook her head and nodded instead toward the thick bushes.

“Oh, how shy we are,” the stepmother mocked. “Fine. Go into the bushes if you want to stick your butt out. I’ll stay here by the car. Hurry up.”

Mary watched carefully, confirming that her stepmother stayed sitting right on the roadside, scrolling her phone.

Then she crawled into the bushes.

This is my chance, a wild thought flashed through her mind.

She ran.

She ran as fast as she could into the depths of the forest, squeezing through branches and shrubs like a cornered deer.

“You little witch!” her stepmother yelled in pursuit.

But it was too late. Mary had gained a slight lead. Fear gave her speed.

She ran and ran and ran. Her stepmother’s voice grew fainter behind her, and then Mary lost her strength and collapsed face-first into soft moss.

That was what saved her.

By some miracle, she had run into the very center of a swamp without sinking into the quagmire, jumping from one small patch of solid ground to another. The islands of earth held her weight; they did not.

A log she’d knocked loose in her haste slid into the water and disappeared.

By the time the gasping aunt reached the spot, the swamp had closed over with a loud, wet squelch. Emily scrutinized the chain of tracks left by the fugitive, then looked at the place where the log had gone under.

“She didn’t drown—that’s your way then, you little witch,” she spat into the grass, scowling with anger.

She turned and went back toward the car.

Mary didn’t hear her words. She had lost consciousness.

She woke up to find herself inexplicably wet.

The girl opened her eyes and nearly screamed in horror. The mound she was lying on was slowly sinking into the swamp. The earth beneath her seemed to be breathing, gently rising and then dropping lower and lower.

Mary froze, afraid to move and provoke it further. In school, they had taught her that if you got stuck in a swamp you should grab onto a branch or rely on a stick to pull yourself out.

There was neither.

I think I’m going to die now, she thought with a strange sense of relief.

Better that way than at the hands of her wicked stepmother.

However, she didn’t want to give up hope. She attempted to crawl away.

Unfortunately, as soon as she shifted, she immediately sank deeper into the muck. Cold, sticky mud crept up her legs.

Mary whimpered, struggling and smearing the slime with her hands.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared on the other side of the swamp, moving toward her. Two yellow eyes gleamed in the distance.

A wolf, flashed through the girl’s mind.

She was so frightened that she stopped waving her arms and prepared to drown rather than be eaten alive.

But the shaggy shadow, moving purposefully and breathing loudly, came closer. Its shape grew more defined.

Perhaps it’s a dog after all, Mary wondered.

She didn’t have time to think. The animal leapt to the edge of the sinking mound and she grabbed onto its fur.

Her unexpected savior yelped and pulled, squirming in her grip. The shifting island of earth lurched but held.

Sensing the swamp beginning to relent, Mary clutched the creature’s neck and began to crawl out of the muck. Both of them were gasping for breath, but when she clung too tightly, her rescuer growled and bit her hand—not hard enough to hurt badly, but enough for her to feel its teeth and loosen her grip.

Somehow, Mary sensed what it wanted from her and followed its movements, carefully retracing the path of firmer ground.

Occasionally, the beast looked back as if to check whether she was still there.

The journey through the swamp felt like an eternity, but finally Mary managed to grab onto a branch and pull herself onto dry land. She tumbled onto her back and closed her eyes.

It seemed she lost consciousness again.

She opened her eyes only when she felt a rough tongue against her cheeks.

The creature was nearby, breathing heavily. It did indeed resemble a wolf, though Mary had only seen wolves at the zoo or in pictures.

Well, now he’s going to eat me, Mary thought with a strange indifference.

Such overwhelming sadness had taken over her that she had no desire to live or move at all.

Nevertheless, she lifted her head and gazed into the creature’s eyes.

Somewhere she had heard or read that animals couldn’t stand a direct human gaze. Apparently this one hadn’t read that, because it looked straight at her, almost reproachfully.

Then it turned around and trotted into the thicket, glancing back.

At first Mary didn’t understand what it wanted. She even felt a glimmer of hope: perhaps it was full already, or perhaps she looked unappetizing caked in swamp mud. In that case, maybe the creature would run away and she could get up and walk in the opposite direction.

But where will I go? she asked herself.

I don’t even know which way the road is. I’m about to get completely lost, and then I’ll probably encounter someone less discerning who will definitely devour me.

In the meantime, the animal, seeing that the girl was still standing still, let out an irritated growl and returned. Mary flinched when it grabbed the edge of her wet jacket with its teeth and started pulling.

She moved, indicating that she understood.

What difference does it make, she thought. I’ll follow it. Maybe it really does know the way to people and isn’t trying to lead me to its lair to keep me as a snack.

Her doubts were dispelled when, after what felt like half an hour of nonstop pushing through branches and underbrush, they reached a small clearing in the middle of the forest.

There stood a small hut, crooked but sturdy. Only a few gnarled branches on the roof were missing for it to look exactly like a fairy-tale house on chicken legs.

Mary’s love for fairy tales surfaced even in this critical situation.

The creature approached the dwelling and emitted a raspy sound that resembled a growl and a bark mixed together. It fell silent for a moment.

Mary pondered whether she should run back into the forest.

“Is that you, Forest Spirit?” a voice emerged from inside the hut. “Are you hungry again, Wanderer?”

The door swung open, revealing an enormous man who, to the frightened girl, looked like a forest ranger or a hunter stepped straight out of a story.

Her thoughts raced in her head like panicked squirrels, but now she was afraid to even take a step. What was the point? In the end, either the man or the beast would catch up with her.

“Who have you brought with you?” the man asked in bewilderment, surveying Mary, who was trembling from fear and cold. “Did you pull her out of the swamp?”

The forest spirit—because Mary had already decided that’s what the creature must be—let out an affirmative sound and whimpered as if to say, I’m freezing too, can’t you see?

“Who are you?” the man asked, towering over Mary.

He was indeed well over six feet tall, and Mary could only look at him by tilting her head back.

She moved her lips, gestured to her mouth, and shook her head.

“And mute, too,” the man exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”

Mary burst into tears. She had experienced enough shocks for one day.

“No use wetting everything—you’re already soaking wet,” the man grumbled. “Come inside the hut. My shirt is on the bench. Take off your wet clothes and put it on. While you change into something dry, I’ll deal with this shaggy troublemaker.”

Mary, shivering, entered the small hut.

Inside, it was warm and smelled of herbs.

She removed her wet clothes, wrung out what she could, and found a warm flannel shirt. She wrapped herself in it like a dress, buttoned it up to the top, and climbed onto the bench with her bare feet.

She closed the door. A moment later, the man returned. He took one look at the pile of wet rags that had once been her clothing and shook his head.

“Go get the warm felt boots from the stove,” he said. “And don’t shake like that, I don’t eat small ones like you.”

In the hut, there was indeed a small but effective stove. When Mary looked inside the niche near it, she found a pair of warm felt boots.

She put them on and felt blissful warmth spreading up from her feet.

Peering out the small window, she saw the man drying the fur of the creature that had saved her, using a rough cloth. Then he put something into a dish and set it down for the animal.

Mary hoped it wasn’t some suspicious stew made from another lost girl.

Strangely, after warming up, she stopped being afraid. Apparently her fear limit had been reached and now indifference had taken its place.

Well, what else could happen? she thought. If the man turns out to be a maniac or a rapist, I’ll think about it then. Right now, I’m starving.

After some contemplation, Mary approached the table and saw a newspaper with a crossword puzzle next to it, along with a pencil.

Apparently the local hermit had some connection to the outside world if he was interested in the news and enjoyed crosswords.

What made her happiest, though, was the pencil.

On the margins of the newspaper, she wrote carefully: “My name is Mary. I lost my voice because of my stepmother. She tried to kill me. I’m very hungry.”

After a moment’s thought, she added: “Please don’t send me back.”

Taking the newspaper with her, the girl opened the door and stepped out into the yard.

Both the man and the creature turned to look at the creaking door.

“So, what do you have there?” the man asked.

He took the newspaper from her hands, read her scribbles, and let out an astonished whistle.

“Ley, look at this—it’s a whole thriller,” he muttered to the animal. “You’re not making this up, are you?” he asked Mary.

She shook her head.

“Well, what do you think, Ley? Should we believe her?” the man turned to the creature.

The animal made a short sound, as if confirming her story.

“Well, you’ve had quite an adventure,” the man muttered, examining the girl.

Mary lowered her head, realizing that she looked like a complete scarecrow in her oversized shirt and mismatched felt boots.

“All right,” the man said. “First we need to feed you. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

He seemed to get her silent question.

“Shall we have a bath like in the fairy tales?” he grinned.

As if remembering something, he added, “So, you’re Mary.”

The girl nodded.

“You’re already acquainted with Ley,” the man continued.

Hearing his name, the creature growled softly, like he was saying, I did all the work here.

“And how come you weren’t scared of him?” the man asked. “You probably thought he was a wolf, right?”

Mary nodded again.

“He is a wolf,” the man chuckled. “I rescued him as a little cub from a trap, and now we’re living together like two peas in a pod. Call me Kevin. I’m sort of the forest ranger around here.”

Mary nodded and traced the word “Kevin” on the newspaper with her finger, then looked up and gave him a tentative smile.

“All right, Mary,” Kevin said. “I’ll feed you with what God has sent us. The soup should still be warm.”

With a smile of relief, the girl followed him into the hut.

After rummaging by the stove, Kevin took out a cast-iron pot, poured stew into two large bowls, added a spoon to each, and cut a couple of slices of bread.

“Eat,” he said, pointing at Mary’s bowl. “Don’t worry, it’s rabbit stew. We don’t eat little girls here. My stomach can’t handle it.” He chuckled, pleased with his own joke.

Mary hesitated, then smiled faintly and took the spoon.

The stew turned out to be incredibly delicious—or maybe she was just so hungry she would have eaten an entire pot of it. As she savored the food, she secretly examined Kevin’s face.

He’s not that old, she thought. Not a grandpa—more like a father’s age.

Thoughts of her father brought tears to her eyes and she choked up.

“Hey, none of that here,” the cabin’s owner said sharply. “I can’t stand all that female fuss.”

Frightened by his displeasure, Mary stopped crying and continued eating in silence. Her tears dried on their own.

“What kind of monster would harm a child?” Kevin muttered under his breath. “And why didn’t your father intervene…”

Mary raised her eyes to him, sighed silently, and folded her hands over her chest, then spread them apart as if releasing balloons.

“What, neither Mom nor Dad?” the forest ranger exclaimed.

Mary nodded.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he said quietly. “But don’t be afraid of me. I’ve got a daughter your age. If…well, never mind.”

He raised his hand as if brushing away a memory and concentrated on his meal.

Mary finished everything to the last drop, wiped her plate with a crust of bread, and looked at Kevin questioningly.

What’s next?

“What’s next?” He caught her meaning. “You’ll take a bath now. The basin is outside. There’s hot water in the cauldron. I’ll get everything for you. Just be careful.”

Mary rolled up the shirt’s sleeve to reveal the burn scar.

“Who did this to you?” Kevin gasped. “Was it your stepmother?”

Mary nodded.

Kevin’s face darkened.

He mumbled something to himself, and Mary only caught one word: “sorted.”

“Go wash up,” he said. “Ley will keep an eye on you.”

Given a bucket of hot water, a towel, soap, and a pair of huge shorts with the elastic pulled tight by Kevin to make them stay on her waist, Mary headed for the wash area.

There she found a wooden tub and a barrel of rainwater.

As she washed, she felt like she was cleansing not just the dirt but also the fears and tension of the past few years. Ley’s head popped out from behind the house, and it seemed like the wolf was smiling.

With a dignified air, he approached her and lay down nearby, guarding her while she bathed.

Mary washed herself diligently, then dried off, got dressed, and sat down next to her guardian. She stroked his dry fur and silently muttered words of thanks.

For the first time in a very long time, she believed that she might be safe.

“How are you? Finished with your water procedures?” Kevin called from around the corner.

Instead of Mary, it was Ley who responded. Lifting his head, he let out an affirmative sound.

The forester, making sure his uninvited guest was dressed and had managed to retrieve her clothes from the wet pile, stretched them and hung them out to dry.

He grunted and sat a little further away.

“What should I do with you, huh?” he asked, more to himself than to Mary. “Do you have any family?”

The girl shook her head.

“That’s not good,” the man pondered. “In a proper world, we’d send you back to the city and file a lawsuit against your stepmother.”

Mary looked at him with frightened eyes.

“I just don’t believe in our noble system of justice,” Kevin shrugged. “It could go even worse for you. They’d put you in a shelter while they figure it out. And it’s not pleasant in those places.

“So what’s left?” he muttered.

Mary anxiously awaited his decision.

“You can’t stay with me either,” Kevin continued. “It’s not right for a young lady to live alone with an old recluse. People talk. And I’m used to being alone.”

Mary’s lips trembled. She thought that Kevin would say the shelter was the best option for her.

“But we also agreed not to make it worse,” Kevin frowned, glancing at Ley, who looked back at him with reproach.

It was as if they had silently agreed to come up with something.

Ley settled on the grass, observing with obvious irony as his friend paced in circles, grumbling to himself.

“Isn’t there a saying about a woman without worries buying herself a pig?” Kevin mused aloud. “I can’t kick her out. There’s nowhere to send her. The police, the law—what a joke. It’s not an option for the girl to stay here, and I’m no babysitter.

“One thing remains,” he said suddenly, brightening as he made a decision. “I’ll take you to Granny Karen. She’s a witch doctor. Maybe she can help you get your voice back.”

He turned to Mary.

“And don’t look at me like that,” he shouted at Ley, even though Ley remained silent. “I know her temperament isn’t the easiest, but at least she’s a woman. Well, at least formally.”

Ley lifted one ear and covered his nose with a paw. It seemed like he was chuckling.

“All right, go ahead and laugh,” Kevin threatened him with his finger. “By the way, this is your responsibility since you’re the one who dragged the girl out of the swamp. You brought her; now we deal with her.”

Ley looked at him reproachfully, as if to say, Why didn’t you leave the child there, then?

“Okay, stop giving me that look,” Kevin sighed. “So it’s settled. We’re going to Karen’s.”

Mary sat on the bench, examining the interior of the hut.

There wasn’t much to examine: a stove, a bench, a table, a wooden chest, a small window without curtains. On the walls, bundles of dried herbs hung alongside tools needed for everyday chores.

That was it.

It was clear that the owner lived alone.

She’ll kick me out for sure, or send me back to my aunt, Mary thought sadly.

Her thoughts made her feel cold again and she wrapped herself more tightly in the shirt.

For some reason, she had completely stopped being afraid of this wild-looking man. She felt that people like him would never harm her.

That’s how her dad had been—strong, brave, kind.

Mary dropped her face onto her folded arms on the table and cried out loud.

She didn’t hear when Kevin entered the room and sat beside her, gently stroking her back with his broad hand.

“Don’t cry, little one,” he said. “Life is like that—tears don’t help much. I’ve been thinking,” he went on.

Mary hushed, listening to his voice.

“Do you like fairy tales?” the forester asked, and she thought she could hear a smile.

Mary raised her head and nodded.

“Then you must know about Baba Yaga, right?” Kevin said.

Mary’s eyes widened even more, but she nodded again.

“I have a friend who lives nearby,” Kevin said. “In a village not far from here, though she’s the only one left from that village’s residents. Her name is Granny Karen. Not because of her age, though she is old, but out of respect. She’s a powerful witch doctor. People come to her from many miles away.”

He glanced at Mary.

“She’s got a temper,” he added. “She’ll heal some for free and refuse others even for a lot of money. But I’m sure she can cure your muteness.”

Mary listened, holding her breath. It really felt like a fairy tale.

It was frightening, though, to go to some old woman in the middle of nowhere. What if she turned out as wicked as her stepmother?

She had already grown somewhat accustomed to Kevin.

“We—Ley and I—will visit you,” Kevin continued. “She once cured me as well, and I thought I’d never recover. Now I help her however I can—fix things around her house, tend to her yard. Neighbors, so to speak.

“Agree, Mary,” he said gently. “There’s a chance you’ll start speaking again.”

Mary nodded hesitantly.

“That’s settled,” Kevin exclaimed. “You stay here. Here’s a crossword puzzle you can solve. I’ll gather some gifts for Karen. We can’t go empty-handed when we ask for help. Besides, your clothes need time to dry.”

He left her alone with her thoughts.

Mary couldn’t sit still. The future frightened her.

She looked around, found a broom, and started sweeping the floor. Afterward, not thinking of anything better to do, she wiped the window with a piece of cloth and cleaned away the dust.

Eventually she lay down on the bench and fell asleep.

“Are you tired, hostess?” Kevin’s voice woke her.

Mary opened her eyes and timidly smiled at him. He didn’t seem as scary now. Her stepmother, for all her pretense, had turned out to be the real witch. This huge man living in the forest with his tamed wolf hadn’t done anything to harm her. He had fed her and even promised to help her recover.

“Look at the order you’ve created,” Kevin said, looking around. “Thank you.”

He sighed.

“Don’t be offended,” he added. “I can’t leave you here alone. It’s not right, and what kind of caretaker would that make me, you know?”

Mary nodded hesitantly. He was right, but she had already been through so much fear that she didn’t know what to expect anymore.

“Don’t drift away,” Kevin encouraged her. “I’ve gathered the gifts. If you’ve rested, it’s time to hit the road.”

Mary sighed.

Ley peered into the partly open door, letting out a sound that resembled encouraging silence, as if to say, We’ll get through this.

“Here, hold this bag with gifts,” Kevin said, handing her a woven sack filled with berries. “Karen has a sweet tooth. It won’t hurt to butter her up a bit.”

He packed various odds and ends into his backpack, apparently as more gifts for the mysterious Granny Karen. Then he took Mary’s hand.

Together, accompanied by Ley, they set off down the path.

Mary looked around with curiosity. Now, with huge, strong Kevin by her side and faithful Ley close by, life didn’t seem quite so bleak.

On both sides of the path, blueberry bushes began to appear. Soon, Mary’s lips and fingers were thoroughly stained with berry juice. Every time Kevin, towering above her, glanced down, he would chuckle, hiding his smile in his mustache.

Nevertheless, when the forest suddenly ended and they arrived at a row of very dilapidated cottages, the girl became frightened and gripped Kevin’s broad hand even tighter.

“You promised to be brave, didn’t you?” Kevin smiled encouragingly.

Mary took a deep breath, straightened up, and tried to stop trembling.

Granny Karen lived in the farthest cottage, the one closest to the forest. As Mary would later find out, it was the only inhabited house. The owners of the others were no longer around—some had moved away, and some remained forever in the graveyard.

The village and its resident witch would have been completely forgotten if it weren’t for the healer’s reputation, which had spread for many miles.

“Granny Karen, open up!” Kevin shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone.

Inside, Mary felt her heart clench. She tried to hide behind her savior’s broad back.

The door creaked, and out into the light stepped Baba Yaga—or at least that’s how Mary imagined her.

The old woman was wearing a long skirt and a tattered shawl despite the summer heat.

Mary shivered and tried to pull her hand away, but Kevin held her firmly.

“Is that you, Kevin?” the witch asked in a creaky voice.

“It’s me. Who else?” Kevin confirmed.

Ley cleared his throat briefly—apparently his version of a bark.

“And who’s with you?” Granny Karen shaded her eyes with her hand, peering at Mary.

Mary felt like this strange woman was looking right through her.

“I found her in the woods,” Kevin shrugged. “She can’t talk. She wrote that her stepmother abandoned her in the forest.”

“She’s not lying,” Granny Karen said after a moment. “I can spot a liar from a mile away. But this little girl truly got the short end of the stick.”

Mary swallowed.

“What do you want from me?” the old woman asked.

“Please, help her,” Kevin said. “Heal the girl. She’s not mute by nature—it’s from fear. Can you help her?”

“I might be able to,” Karen answered slowly.

She kept her gaze fixed on the pale girl. Mary was already imagining what would happen when Kevin went into the woods, leaving her alone with this witch.

“It’s hard to compete with fear,” Karen said. “She’s afraid of me even now. Are you scared, for example?” she asked Mary directly.

Mary thought for a moment, then nodded.

“You see?” Grandma Karen shrugged. “Nothing will come of it like this. Let the doctors treat her. The child needs to be sent to the city, to a good hospital.”

“We can’t send her to the city,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “They’ll put her in an orphanage while they sort things out. Or her stepmother will take her back sooner or later. She might even finish what she started.”

“Maybe they won’t,” Karen squinted. “If the proper authorities keep an eye on her. You have connections there, don’t you?”

Mary felt Kevin freeze.

“We’re not discussing that,” he said in a hushed voice that made Grandma Karen drop her teasing tone.

“Will you take care of the girl, or do I have to take her back to the forest?” he asked.

Grandma remained silent for a moment, then pressed her lips together.

“You’re a fool, Kevin,” she sighed at last. “Well, it’s your business. Even I wouldn’t take this on lightly.”

She squinted again at Mary.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what can be done,” she said finally. “Leave the girl.”

Mary trembled, and Kevin let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you. God bless you,” he said emotionally. “We brought some gifts from the forest.”

Granny Karen’s eyes twinkled, though her expression stayed stern.

“Unload the gifts in the barn,” she ordered. Then she turned unexpectedly gentle. “And you, dear, come to me,” she said to Mary. “Go on, go on. I don’t eat children, and my teeth aren’t what they used to be.”

Mary thought she might even be winking, though it was hard to tell from that distance.

Kevin nudged her toward the porch, then followed Karen into the house.

The girl hesitated on the steps.

Should I run back to the forest? the mischievous thought crossed her mind again.

Then she felt Ley nudge her with his nose, as if urging her to obey.

Mary turned and looked at the creature. He whimpered softly, tried to wag his tail, and it seemed as if he were smiling.

Deciding that was a definite sign, Mary took a deep breath, climbed the creaky steps onto the porch, and opened the door.

Inside, it was…interesting.

She couldn’t find a better word. Her eyes darted in all directions, and there was plenty to see.

This house seemed to host the most extraordinary combination of objects: a big metal samovar and a sleek laptop; bundles of herbs hanging from the walls and numerous glass flasks like the ones Mary had seen in chemistry class.

Upon seeing the girl’s astonished expression, Kevin and Grandma Karen burst into laughter.

“That’s me—a modern-day Baba Yaga,” the witch proclaimed proudly, surveying her laboratory. “Don’t judge me by the fact that I live in the woods. I chose this place myself—to get away from the hustle and closer to nature.”

“Karen defended her doctorate in herbs,” Kevin added. “And not just one. People come from all over the country for consultations and treatment. She even got me back on my feet once.”

“I got you back on your feet, but I didn’t fix your brain,” Grandma Karen grumbled.

Kevin tried to say something, but she cut him off.

“And since you don’t want to listen to anything,” she said, “our conversation will be brief. Leave the girl and go on your way. We’ll sort things out without you.”

Kevin laughed again, winked at Mary as if to say, Look how tough she is, and began preparations to leave.

Sitting down beside the girl, he wiped away her involuntary tears.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “Listen to Grandma Karen. She won’t let anything happen to you. Ley and I will come visit you soon, you’ll see. By that time, you’ll even start talking.”

Still, Mary turned pale at the thought of being left alone.

The old woman observed her closely, then approached and hugged her shoulders firmly.

“I can see life has been hard on you,” she said. “You don’t have much faith in people left. Just like Kevin when we first met him. He came here to die.

“Among other things, I healed his body, but I couldn’t heal his soul,” she added softly. “Now I look at you and I wonder…maybe that’s your purpose.”

Mary stared at the old woman, bewildered.

“All right,” Grandma Karen said briskly. “Let’s have a tea party. We’ll put those berries to good use. Do you like berries?”

Mary nodded instinctively.

“It’s obvious,” Karen chuckled, seeing the girl’s messy, berry-stained mouth and hands. “Look in the cupboard over there,” she encouraged.

Mary reached out, opened the door, and gasped.

Inside stood a full set of unimaginably beautiful porcelain teacups—delicate and almost transparent.

“Bring them over,” Grandma Karen urged. “They’re for practical use, not just admiration.”

Still, Mary handled the teacups carefully with both hands, afraid of damaging such wonders.

The tea tasted a hundred times better in them, especially with sugared berries. It had the aroma of summer steeped in a teapot. With every sip, the girl felt her breathing become easier and her fears slip away.

Mary looked up at the old woman sitting across from her. Karen was smiling.

“So,” Grandma Karen said, “how’s the tea? Magical, isn’t it?”

Mary nodded and smiled timidly in response.

“Do you know about living water?” Karen continued.

Mary thought of all the stories she’d read and nodded.

“Well, we have something like that right here,” Grandma Karen said. “It doesn’t help everyone. Only the good and the kind, and those who are willing to heal themselves. Are you ready?”

Mary nodded again. She liked this fairy-tale grandmother—even though she had seemed like a Baba Yaga at first.

“Good,” Grandma Karen approved. “We’ll finish our tea, clean up the dishes, and then we’ll start driving the sickness out of you.”

Mary looked a bit wary. She wondered how exactly they were going to “drive the sickness out” of her. But after thinking it over, she decided not to be afraid.

It couldn’t be worse than living with her stepmother.

After clearing the table and washing the dishes in a large basin, they headed down a path through a meadow. Mary walked alongside Grandma Karen, admiring the wild herbs and flowers. With Karen’s approving nod, she wove a wreath of flowers and placed it on her head.

“Beautiful,” her companion complimented her.

Mary felt her spirits lift. Maybe everything will be fine, just like in a fairy tale, she thought.

The path led to a river lined with water lilies. Clouds drifted through the crystal-clear water, reflected all the way to the bottom.

Mary couldn’t help but gaze at them, feeling suddenly light and free.

Grandma Karen was the first to shed her shawl and skirt, revealing a simple nightgown-like garment. She straightened her back, and suddenly she didn’t seem as ancient as Mary had thought.

Feeling somewhat shy, Mary also took off her clothes, down to the long shirt Kevin had given her, and dipped her toes into the water.

“It’s cold,” she whispered hoarsely, hugging herself.

“Be brave, my girl, or the water might refuse to take your sickness away,” Grandma Karen said sternly from behind.

Mary took one step, then another—and suddenly she slipped and went under, her head completely submerged.

She flailed her arms, opened her mouth in a silent scream, and a hoarse, high-pitched sound emerged from her throat.

Grandma Karen, standing just a step away, scooped up handfuls of water and poured it over the girl’s head while murmuring something under her breath.

“With goose water, let Mary be rid of all her ailments,” it sounded to the frightened girl.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, her terror dissolved. Her breathing evened out and her feet found solid ground on the riverbed.

It turned out she had only needed to take one more step.

“Try to say something,” Grandma Karen demanded. “Speak.”

“A…a…” the girl managed in a sing-song tone.

Her throat still didn’t cooperate, but now she was certain she would speak again soon.

“Good job,” Grandma Karen said. “The river accepted you and agreed to help. We’ll come here every day. You’ll see—everything will get better.”

Mary nodded.

She didn’t want to leave the water; she splashed around a bit near the shore until Karen tossed the flower wreath to her.

“Give it to the river,” the old woman said. “As a thank you for healing.”

Mary stroked the flowers with her fingers, then gently pushed the wreath into the water and watched as the current carried it away. The river picked up the gift and bore it into the distance.

On the shore, her skin was covered in goosebumps. She shivered until resourceful Grandma Karen wrapped her in a large fluffy towel.

Returning along the same path was much more cheerful. Mary skipped ahead, picking blades of grass and behaving like an excited puppy.

Grandma Karen smiled as she watched the girl, appearing younger herself.

Once inside the cottage, Mary suddenly felt hungry again.

She glanced at Grandma Karen, who was peacefully reading, comfortably seated on the bed.

Mary murmured, trying to get her attention, but the old woman—either hard of hearing or engrossed in her book—didn’t turn her head.

Mary came closer, patted her stomach, and let out a couple more faint sounds.

“Don’t murmur. Speak with words,” Grandma Karen said without looking up from her book.

Mary felt a deep sense of injustice. How can I speak with words when I don’t know how?

“So not very eager, I see,” Karen remarked calmly, noticing her confusion.

Mary tensed. Sounds bubbled up in her throat but refused to come out.

She imagined them as billiard balls needing an invisible cue to be set into motion. Rolling them up her throat in her mind, she picked three of these balls and pushed.

“I…am…” she managed to say.

“Mary,” she tried, and the last word came out in a broken squeak.

Grandma Karen put her book down, swung her legs off the bed, and patted Mary’s head.

“Well done,” she approved. “Everything will work out. You just need to try. But for now, it’s time to eat. Grab a bowl and go to the backyard. I have some chickens there. Collect eggs and we’ll fry them with bacon. Oh, it’ll be delicious.”

Still a little dizzy from the experience, Mary went out into the yard.

True to Grandma Karen’s words, there were colorful chickens and a bright, proud rooster.

Ignoring his disapproving clucking, the girl collected five eggs and triumphantly returned home.

“Well done,” Grandma Karen smiled.

Soon the cottage was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling bacon. The scrambled eggs turned out to be incredibly delicious. Mary scraped the remnants from her plate and closed her eyes in contentment like a satisfied kitten.

Grandma Karen, however, didn’t share Mary’s carefree mood. She seemed to be listening to something inside herself. Then she approached the door, opened it, and barely moved aside in time.

Ley burst into the house.

The wolf whimpered, pacing around the room and glancing at the door as if calling someone to follow him.

Mary, with terror in her eyes, noticed blood on Ley’s fur.

“Something happened to Kevin,” Grandma Karen cried. “Looks like he ran into poachers. Stay here. I’ll call for help. Stay put!”

But Mary didn’t hear the old woman’s shouts.

Following Ley, who had rushed out of the house, she sprinted down the same path Kevin had used to bring her there.

Ley kept looking back as if checking to see if she was following.

Mary ran with her heart hammering in her chest.

Ley led her to a clearing and howled.

Mary’s heart stopped for a second.

Kevin lay in the grass.

She rushed to him, knelt beside him, and tried to turn him over. For a terrible moment she thought he wasn’t breathing. His camouflage pants were soaked with blood, and she got it all over her hands as she touched him.

She shook him, hoping he was still alive.

Ley whined next to them, nudging the man with his snout.

When Mary had nearly given up all hope of reviving Kevin, a hoarse sound erupted from her throat.

“Dad!” she cried.

Following the first miracle, a second one occurred.

Kevin groaned and turned his head, looking at the girl in astonishment.

“Mary…is that you? Where did you come from?” he said with difficulty.

“Dad,” Mary sobbed, looking at the bloodstained grass.

Kevin tried to sit up but couldn’t. Pain flashed across his face.

“They got me, the bastards,” he said, his voice weak. “Local poachers. They’ve been threatening me for a while. Now I’ve caught a load of buckshot. In both legs.”

He tried to move his legs, but they didn’t respond.

“Mary,” he said, breathing heavily. “I have a knife in my belt bag. Try to cut the trousers and bandage them.”

The girl pulled herself together. Her tears stopped.

Kevin helped her open the folding knife and Mary got to work. The sturdy fabric was reluctant to yield, but she managed to slice it open.

She gasped when she saw what his legs had turned into below the knees. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and he read the truth in them.

It was bad.

“Don’t lose heart, daughter,” he said. “We’ve been through worse scrapes than this.”

Mary flinched at the word “daughter,” but didn’t cry.

“Cut the fabric into long strips and bandage them as tightly as possible,” Kevin instructed. “I’ll try to crawl. In these woods, it’s not only the Forest Spirit who roams, but other beasts as well. And the two-legged ones are much more dangerous.”

Following the wounded man’s advice, Mary tore the pant legs into strips and bound his wounds as tightly as she could. The bleeding slowed.

They both breathed a sigh of relief.

Rolling onto his stomach with Mary’s help, Kevin attempted to crawl. It was slow and painful, but it worked.

When he got tired, they took breaks and Mary wiped the sweat from his forehead. Ley licked Kevin’s pale face and whimpered.

“We’ll make it. I know it,” Kevin whispered, and kept crawling.

It felt like several hours had passed, though Mary had no idea how long it really was. Time had lost all meaning.

Finally, his strength gave out and he lost consciousness.

Mary jumped to her feet, running aimlessly around the clearing.

Then something inside her throat seemed to burst. A scream tore out of her—loud, clear, and desperate.

She screamed and prayed for a miracle.

Another miracle came.

The forest filled with the cracking of branches. A tall woman burst into the clearing, rushed to Kevin, sat down beside him, and hastily opened a first aid kit.

Following her came a massive gray-haired man in the same camouflage as Kevin.

“Brian, we need to get him into the house as soon as possible,” the woman ordered.

Looking at Mary, she said, “Run to the house. We need warm water—lots of it. Do you remember the way?”

Ley appeared at Mary’s side again, and Mary nodded.

“Follow him,” the woman said. “Go!”

Mary ran, following Ley back toward the cottage.

Behind her, the giant man picked up Kevin in his arms as if he weighed nothing and carried him toward the village.

Grandma Karen emerged from the forest cabin to meet them. Mary had no idea how she had gotten there so fast, but she glimpsed an SUV parked behind the house.

So the strange old lady could drive, after all.

“Help us,” Grandma ordered, peering into the direction of the forest.

They managed to boil water and prepare bandages and cotton.

The door swung open and the enormous Brian, barely fitting through the doorway, carried the moaning Kevin into the house. The woman followed him, and only then did Mary notice how beautiful she was—simply a fairy-tale beauty.

Kevin was placed on the table and both women fussed around him.

“Let’s go. We’ll only get in the way,” Brian said gently.

His large hand rested on Mary’s shoulder. Obeying him, she went out into the yard. Only there did she finally let her tears flow.

She cried, uttering broken words and syllables, and Brian silently stroked her back.

“Don’t worry about Kevin, honey,” he said. “He’s been through worse. He saved my life twice—and not just mine. Now the chance has come to return the favor. We’ll catch and punish those bandits, you can be sure of that.”

Mary gradually calmed down. Her slender shoulders twitched less.

Grandma Karen came out of the house, put her arm around the girl, and spoke softly.

“You’re mistaken, Brian,” she said. “It wasn’t us who saved him today. It was her.”

She nodded at Mary.

“I’ve been telling Kevin for a while now that he’d have a daughter, and it turned out to be true.”

“Has he regained consciousness?” Brian asked.

Mary felt like they were keeping something from her.

“Do you want to ask about Rebecca?” Grandma Karen chuckled. “She won’t leave his side. He’s still asleep, but they’ll talk. Eventually. Kevin is stubborn.”

“He can’t forgive Rebecca after all these years,” Brian said, shaking his head.

“Foolish man,” Grandma Karen replied calmly. “His mother didn’t want to share her son with a bride. She told the girl she’d had an abortion, and he believed her. He didn’t come back home, signed a contract, and left. She, poor thing, had a miscarriage at the time—no fault of hers. I know for sure.

“If he hadn’t signed, I wouldn’t have saved him,” Brian added. “That’s the way it worked out. It’s fate.”

“Fate,” Grandma Karen agreed. “And did fate also make you rush here at a friend’s first call?”

“Seems so,” Brian nodded. “I was at training. I raised a helicopter and here I am. They were surprised, believe me.” He laughed loudly.

Mary flinched.

“You’ll return and get grounded for insubordination,” Grandma Karen quipped.

“Where will they find another specialist at my level?” Brian shrugged.

“That’s how Rebecca fell for him—with the first word,” Karen said. “Kevin got lucky.”

“He got lucky,” Brian agreed, glancing at the old woman. “Do you think I’ll get lucky someday?”

“You’re at it again,” Grandma Karen exclaimed. “Brian, I’m old, and you keep proposing.”

“You’re eight years younger than me,” Brian said. “You’re a beautiful woman. You’ll find yourself a young one.”

“I don’t need a young one,” he replied, shaking his gray head. “I need the loved one.”

“Oh, why are we starting this with a child present?” Grandma Karen gasped.

Mary, greatly surprised, noticed how young the woman’s eyes shone.

The door opened and the pale Rebecca stepped toward them.

“Is he awake?” Grandma Karen asked.

“Yes,” Rebecca replied, her lips barely moving. “He kicked me out.” She covered her face with her hands.

“All right,” Karen said resolutely. “On the go. Brian, watch over the girls. I’ll go clear that stubborn fool’s head. I won’t let him break lives—his and the girl’s.”

Brian embraced the crying Rebecca. After a moment’s hesitation, Mary hugged her from the other side, leaning against her with her whole body, trying to comfort the unhappy woman.

“Come on, be quiet and listen,” Grandma’s voice drifted from the house a while later.

They all flinched.

“We didn’t bring you back from the other side for you to ruin your life and that girl’s,” Karen said.

They didn’t hear Kevin’s response, but something in the house clearly broke loose—a dam of old hurt and misunderstanding.

Voices rose and fell. Half an hour later, a clearly satisfied Grandma Karen came out again.

“Rebecca, go into the house,” she ordered. “You need to talk.”

Rebecca looked helplessly at Mary, then went in.

Grandma Karen took her place on the bench, winked at the girl, and said, “Don’t worry. They’ll work it out. They have even more in common now than at the beginning. They’ll definitely reach an understanding.”

While Brian, to calm his nerves and find something to do, chopped wood behind the house, the elderly woman and the girl sat close together in silence.

Then Grandma nodded.

“All right, we can go in,” she said.

She entered first and froze in the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“You’ll have plenty of time for cuddling,” she remarked mischievously. “You have your whole life ahead of you. But for now, a cup of tea would be just right.”

Blushing, Rebecca stepped away from Kevin, who was already lying in bed, and busied herself setting the table.

Nothing now reminded Mary that the same table had recently served as an operating surface.

Kevin lay quietly. His expression was thoughtful, but his eyes were full of tenderness as he watched Rebecca. When she cautiously fed him tea, Mary noticed that his hand slid over to cover hers.

“First aid has been provided,” Grandma Karen said. “Now we need to go to the hospital.”

“All right, I’m on it,” Brian exclaimed happily.

But Karen shook her head.

“They can handle it there once he’s stable,” she said. “Especially since we need to decide what to do with the girl.”

“We’ve already decided,” Kevin said.

He looked at Mary and smiled.

“You didn’t call me Dad in the forest just for show, did you?” he asked. “You won’t abandon me now that I’m helpless and injured, will you?”

Mary shook her head.

“No,” she said, the word coming out carefully but clearly.

Grandma Karen looked at Rebecca and grinned.

“Well, Rebecca, what do you say?” she asked. “Looks like we’ll have to use your official status for once. After all, you are the authorized representative for children’s rights, aren’t you?”

Rebecca nodded and looked at Kevin with a hint of a challenge.

“Yes,” she said. “And I know exactly how to deal with those who try to harm children.”

“That’s settled then,” Karen said, taking the initiative. “Rebecca, we’ll get our wounded friend into the jeep. You’ll take the girl. You’ll sort things out with the guardian. And if she doesn’t understand the language of the law, we’ll step in with the boys.”

Brian chuckled, glancing sideways at the commanding lady.

“I don’t think it will be necessary,” Rebecca replied. “But thanks for the offer.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Kevin, holding Mary close with one arm.

“Once you’re ready, you’ll still need to go to the hospital,” Karen added. “Brian, you can head back, otherwise they really might send troops in search of their heroic colonel.”

“No need for troops,” Brian said thoughtfully. “But I have another piece of unfinished business here.” He gave Grandma Karen a meaningful look.

“Don’t even think about it,” she exclaimed, waving her hands. “You’re not a vigilante. This is a matter for the police.”

“They hurt my friend,” Brian said, his thick gray eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. “That means they hurt me. And you think I’m going to run to the police and complain? I said it—I’ll handle it myself.”

Surprisingly, Grandma Karen fell silent.

“It’s time for us to go,” Rebecca said, looking at Mary. “You’re coming with us, right?”

The girl nodded.

Then, gathering her courage, she added, “Yes.”

“I told you the treatment would help,” Kevin smiled.

“And don’t get too cheeky,” Grandma Karen muttered, though her eyes were soft.

“So it will heal before the wedding,” Brian said lightly.

“Before whose wedding? Theirs or ours?” he added.

Mary was amazed to see that the remarkable witch could indeed blush.

Deciding that the adults needed to prepare and that she had nothing to pack except what she was wearing, Mary rushed to hug Ley.

The wolf licked her cheeks with his rough tongue, as if understanding that they would soon be separated.

“Ley,” the girl whispered.

“It’s all right, dear,” Grandma Karen said. “You’ll negotiate visiting rights with all of us yet.”

Soon they were on the road again—first along a country track, then on a proper highway.

Kevin’s head rested on Mary’s lap. She stroked his hair and pleaded silently with someone up there.

You’re the strongest, the smartest. You already have my real mom and dad with you. Leave Kevin for me. Don’t take him. I’ll be very, very obedient. I’ll help him and Rebecca with everything. Just make him better.

Apparently, the child’s plea was heard.

Kevin recovered quickly, though he had lost a lot of blood. He was indeed fortunate—help had arrived in time.

While he was in the hospital under Brian’s care, Mary lived with Rebecca.

Rebecca took care of her official obligations with such consideration for the girl’s fragile psyche that Mary didn’t even have to meet her hated stepmother.

Mary learned by chance that the young husband had run away from Emily after she returned without the girl and offered some vague explanation of what had happened. He filed for divorce. Apparently his conscience wasn’t entirely gone.

Aunt Emily, on the other hand, denied everything until she was shown a recording of Mary’s testimony.

Rebecca did everything she could to ensure the punishment was as severe as possible. There was no direct evidence of an attempted murder, but the law hit the cunning woman where it hurt most—her wallet—imposing a hefty fine and removing her guardianship rights.

Of course there was no question of Emily keeping custody.

Rebecca pulled all the strings she could to offer her own candidacy for adoption, with Kevin’s wholehearted support.

With excellent references and help from the right people, her request was granted.

When Kevin was discharged from the hospital, he and Rebecca submitted their documents to the registrar’s office.

By that time, Mary was no longer a naïve child. She had already pieced together from conversations that Kevin and Rebecca had always loved each other. It had only been the interference of Kevin’s mother that had separated the destined couple.

Life had punished Kevin’s mother harshly. When her son, shocked by his beloved’s apparent betrayal—believing she had gotten rid of their child—went off on a military contract and never returned from yet another mission, she found no peace. She fell seriously ill.

A much younger but just as sharp-tongued Grandma Karen had tried to get her back on her feet. That was when the truth came out.

But it was too late.

The woman died without seeing her son again, without forgiving herself for her sin.

Only many years later did everything fall into place.

Rebecca and Kevin visited the graves of Mary’s parents soon after he fully regained consciousness.

In that time, they had managed to erect a monument in the cemetery. Even the faces in the photographs seemed to come to life and look at the girl.

“I love you,” Mary whispered, carefully placing flowers on the grave. “And I’ll always love you. Don’t worry. Now Kevin and Rebecca are with me. You won’t mind if I call them Mom and Dad, will you?

“And now I also have Grandma Karen and Grandpa Brian,” she added. “They got married too. Then they had a big fight. Grandpa wanted her to come live with him, but she refused to leave the woods. So he moved to live with her.”

Mary smiled.

“They take him to work by helicopter,” she said softly. “That’s the right thing to do—otherwise who would Ley stay with?”

“We’ll be going to visit them soon,” she promised. “Don’t miss me. I’ll come often and tell you everything. Oh, you don’t know—I was completely mute. But now everything is fine.”

Mom and Dad smiled at their daughter from the photograph.

Mary raised her eyes to the sky, the sun, and the clouds.

She had always believed in happy endings and fairy tales. And it seemed that her own personal fairy tale had indeed ended happily.

Or rather, it was just the beginning of her long and happy life.