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"Since the children went into their aunt's custody, Masha has not received treatment. When we visited her, we discovered that the children had already run away from her some time ago."

"They spent all that time with their mother!" Nazar couldn't take it anymore. He got up and angrily walked to the window, staring at the dawn and trying to get himself under control.

"The aunt tearfully claimed she'd worn herself out searching for them. Though personally, I don't think she looked for them at all. Our service isn't the police, and we're catastrophically understaffed, but I personally visited her mother's house, and the younger Matveev children weren't there."

"Masha is a very smart and crafty girl," I added, sniffling. "Hiding from social workers is child's play for her."

"Yes. Whenever they ran away from the orphanage, they always returned home. Their mother isn't mentally stable anymore, but she's quiet and nonviolent. She simply doesn't notice whether the children are home or not. She may have forgotten they exist altogether. It's hard to understand a sick mind."

"Masha ran away to help her mother. The thing is, her mother is disabled too and receives a pension. The bank cards for those payments were in the girl's possession, and she withdrew the money for her. But despite that, her mother still managed to borrow money for alcohol from a 'kind' neighbor. Then Masha had to pay those debts back. That's how they survived. All thanks to this fragile child who was far too mature for her age."

Tears appeared in the woman's eyes as well, and she reached into her purse for a handkerchief.

A silence settled over the room while we tried to absorb everything we'd just heard and somehow fit it all inside our heads.

"Tell me," Elena finally asked, watching us carefully, "why do you want these children?"

"We'd like to take guardianship of them," Nazar said firmly. "They've been living with us for some time now, and..."

"...and we're shitty parents!" I started crying again, overwhelmed by our obvious stupidity and shortsightedness. "The first thing we should've done wasn't take them out for fun. We should've gotten them examined! What kind of parents are we if we didn't notice something this serious?"

"You understand that if you don't know exactly what you're looking for, not everyone can recognize all the symptoms and connect them into a signal of such a terrible illness. Don't be so hard on yourselves. Excessive fatigue, paleness, and bleeding aren't uncommon even among healthy children. They often accompany viral infections."

"Masha never got sick while she was with us," I told the woman, hoping I wasn't quite such a terrible mother after all.

"There you go. Every case is different."

She looked at us carefully.

"I can see that you sincerely care about the girl. After all these years working with different people, I've learned how to tell what kind of people they are."

"If you're serious about these children, I'll help you. I'll speak to the chief physician and ask him to keep you informed about Masha's condition and explain everything to you."

"Unfortunately, I have no right not to inform her aunt about what happened, and I am required to be present during your contact with the girl. The aunt is the official guardian."

"I need to speak with the children themselves. If they confirm my suspicions about you, and if you truly fight for these children, then I'll be on your side."

"But you need to clearly understand what's waiting for you in the future. Treatment requires strength, patience, and let's be honest... money."

"Are you ready for those sacrifices?"

"I'll do everything necessary to make those children ours," Yartsev answered confidently. "Money isn't a problem for us."

Elena Egorovna's words gave us a measure of hope and confidence.

She left the waiting room, and we remained alone.

I looked at Nazar in pain, and he immediately came over and wrapped me in his arms. I pressed tightly against his warm chest and breathed in the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Nazar, I'm so scared," I buried my face in his neck in despair.

"She'll make it. Our girl is very strong," my man whispered.

Suddenly, the waiting room door opened, and a medical worker appeared.

"Are Matveeva's relatives here?" he asked. "The chief physician would like to see you."