A desperate orphan with a trunk knocked on the restaurant door. The owner was taken aback upon learning her surname.

You will become the brightest star, the most talented of all. You will surely be noticed, and your name will appear on all the billboards.”

Sofia wept, her face buried in the plaid that had once covered her father. His hand, weak yet still warm, slid through her hair.

“Don’t cry, my little girl, there’s no need. You can’t cheat fate. Just listen to me,” he whispered.

Sofia lifted her tear-stained face. Her father spoke so softly, as if every word was a struggle:

“Just don’t interrupt. I have no strength left… Once there were two of us—Mikhail and me, Grigory. We were inseparable friends, even having sworn by our blood that our friendship would last forever. And then your mother appeared. We both fell in love with her. You see, when love develops between people, friendship often takes a back seat. Mother chose me, and Mikhail could not come to terms with it.

But he is a wonderful man. If you ever feel completely overwhelmed, you can turn to him. He will not abandon you. He now owns the ‘Breeze’ restaurant. Remember that, Sofia. It may one day save you. There is something else, but if he wishes, he will tell you himself…

Remember: I love you with all my heart, believe in you, and know—you will cope.”

Sofia hugged her father tightly, and suddenly his body tensed, then went slack.

“Dad! Dad!” her cry echoed through the room.

They pulled her away from the bed. Doctors were bustling about, running back and forth, while Sofia watched the events as if from a distance. One thought spun in her head: “I am alone. I am completely alone in this world.”

The next day, after the memorial service and once the guests had departed, the stepmother glared at Sofia coldly:

“Tomorrow, go find a job. I’m not going to feed you.”

“But I’m studying…”

“Studying? Ha! You won’t get by on songs. If you can’t find a job, you’ll be out on the street. Got it?”

“But this is my home!”

The stepmother sprang up, her eyes flashing:

“What? Your home? Ha! This is my home. I’m your father’s legal wife. So shut up. And know: I’m speaking nicely now. But I can do it otherwise.”

Sofia ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. All night she wept, clutching a photograph of her father. By morning, she decided: her father had left enough money for her to finish her studies and try to fulfill his dream.

He had always wanted her to sing. Since childhood, she had won competitions. Her teachers said it was hard to break through, but even if it didn’t work out, her voice would always feed her.

“Just imagine: anyone who hears your name—Sofia Grigorieva—will never forget it,” they had told her.

She smiled. Yes, her father had done his best. She was not just Grigorieva, but also Grigoryevna.

In the morning, Sofia got ready and went to class. She tried not to make any noise so as not to wake her stepmother. She would study, no matter what it cost. That was what Dad wanted.

When she returned, she saw her stepmother on the porch. Sofia slowed her pace, hoping she would leave, but the stepmother stood there, never taking her eyes off her.

“So, did you find a job?”

“I was at school.”

Sofia wanted to walk past, but the stepmother blocked her way.

“At school, huh? So you want to become a singer?” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “What kind of singer could you be? Your voice is like rusty hinges, and you have no brains. With your looks, you should be mopping floors, not climbing onto a stage. I warned you.”

The stepmother pulled out a suitcase and a bag.

“Here, take your things and get out. Go sing in the underpasses, scare passersby. Maybe you’ll get a break there.”

Sofia stared at the suitcase with wide eyes, but the stepmother had already gone inside and slammed the door. Sofia heard the locks click. She grabbed her things and ran out of the yard.

“Oh God, please let no one see this. Let Dad rest in peace where he is now!”

Sofia trudged down the street, dragging her suitcase. There were no more tears, no more thoughts. There were no relatives. Both her father and mother had grown up as orphans. She didn’t know what to do.

As darkness began to fall, she stopped. In front of her stood the ‘Breeze’ restaurant. It was exactly the place her father had told her about. There was no choice. She approached the door. A young man met her.

“Good evening. Allow me, I’ll help with your things and see you to a table.”

“No, thank you. Could I see the owner of the restaurant? Mikhail?”

“Mikhail Yuryevich?”

The young man looked at her with doubt.

“I’ll find out.”

After a minute, he returned with a tall, dignified man of about forty-five.

“Is it you who were looking for me?”

Sofia nodded.


“I’m listening.”

“I… I am the daughter of Elena and Grigory Grigoryev. Dad said that if I ever needed help, I could come to you.”

“Elena and Grigory? And why can’t Grisha help his own daughter?”

“There’s no more father. He died a few days ago.”

Mikhail flinched. Sofia couldn’t hold back her tears. The young man handed her some napkins.

“Perhaps some water?”

Mikhail seemed to come back to his senses.

“Maxim, take these things to my office and bring some water.”

“Understood.”

Mikhail gently embraced Sofia by the shoulders.

“Please, calm down. I had no idea.”

Once Sofia calmed a bit, he set a chair in front of her and sat down beside her.

“Tell me, what happened? Why are you carrying suitcases?”

“Dad had been ill for a long time. After Mom’s death, things got really bad. A friend of hers, Zhanna, appeared in our house. She pretended to care for Dad, but I could see—she didn’t love him. No one believed me, since I was just a child. A year and a half later, she moved in with us. That was the first time Dad ended up in the hospital.”

“The doctors said his heart was worn out, like an old man’s. Zhanna brought him comfort and lived in the house. When Dad was discharged, he did not kick her out. Later, they registered.”

“I had hoped that everything would get better, but… Dad worked too hard, even though the doctors forbade it. He always said that his little star deserved a bright future. He believed I would become a star.”

“Before he died, he told me about your friendship and said that if I ever felt down, I could come to you.”

Sofia looked up.

“He said that you were like brothers, but then Mom appeared.”

Mikhail smiled sadly.

“Mom did not want to become the cause of our quarrel. She hesitated for a long time to choose, even tried to leave so as not to ruin our friendship. But it was too late. Grisha stopped her.”

“Sofia, even though we haven’t spoken much over the years, Grigory and Elena will always be dear to me. You can count on me as a father. Do you want to build a career?”

“No, I just want to live a normal life, work… and if possible, finish my studies.”

Mikhail Yuryevich thought for a moment, then asked:

“What if I offered you to live with me? Would you agree? I have a big house in the center. If not, I can get you a hotel for a few days until we find something suitable.”

“May I come with you? I don’t want to be alone…”

Sofia sniffled, and Mikhail added softly:

“Of course. I’m all for it. I live alone, aside from a fat, lazy cat who ignores me because he considers me useless.”

Sofia smiled weakly.

“How do you know what he thinks?”

“When I come by, he is already fed, clean, and ironed—the housekeeper adores him. And when I try to pet or call him, he disdainfully flicks his tail and walks away.”

Mikhail looked seriously at the girl.

“I understand how hard this must be for you, but believe me: Grigory was right. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Were you really that close friends? Why did you stop talking?”

“We were friends. But life sometimes complicates things so much that it’s hard to tell who is right and who is wrong. Perhaps I’ll tell you about it later.”

A few days later, as Sofia began to recover, Mikhail invited her to a café.

“Let’s go, talk, and figure out what to do next.”

“Could we not go to a café? Maybe to your restaurant? I’ve never been there.”

“Of course. Let’s go.”

Mikhail insisted that Sofia continue her studies.

“But how am I supposed to live? You’re not obligated to support me. I wanted to find a job.”

“Wait.”

Before he could finish, the young man who had met Sofia earlier ran up to him.

“Mikhail Yuryevich, we have an emergency!”

“What happened?”

“In half an hour, there’s an anniversary. The contract stipulates a live performance. The problem is…”

“Is Artem not coming again?”

Mikhail clutched his head.

“What is the story? Again?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, let’s start calling everyone who has performed for us before.”

“Everyone has already been contacted. If we do not meet the conditions, we’ll have to pay a penalty.”

“Okay, Maxim. To hell with it, the penalty, but the reputation…”

Sofia cautiously touched his hand.

“Uncle Mikhail, I can sing.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll manage.”

He looked at her for a long time.

“Sofia, it’s not necessary. Besides, you’ve never sung in a restaurant. It’s noisy here, and the atmosphere is completely different.”

“Everything will be fine. I promise.”

When Sofia began to sing, a complete silence fell over the hall. Mikhail sat at his table all evening. During her last song, he quietly murmured:

“Elena… I promise, our daughter will become a star.”

Years ago, Mikhail had behaved badly toward Elena. He had been too insistent, and she got scared. When she realized she was pregnant, she decided to leave. Grigory stopped her and learned the truth.

The friends had a terrible fight. Mikhail realized his mistake, but he did not want to admit it. Later he apologized, but it was too late. Grigory asked him never to cross paths with them again. Now Mikhail decided that Sofia should not know that story. It would have traumatized her.

Zhanna and her new husband pulled up to the restaurant.

“Finally!” the man sighed.

Zhanna loved to display her “superiority.” They didn’t have much money, but she had chosen this restaurant specifically to impress her friends. They were already seated when she entered, proudly summoning the waiter.

“What kind of entertainment do you have? Is anyone going to sing?”

The waiter smiled.

“You are incredibly lucky. For a couple of days, Sofia, the little star, has come to us. She is from here and will perform today.”

Her friends gasped:

“It can’t be! Wow!”

Zhanna had heard something about her, but pretended not to know.

“Oh, I didn’t even know she was from our town.”

“Yes, she studied and started here. Perhaps you remember Grigory Grigoryev?”

Zhanna paled.

“Grigory Grigoryev?”

Her husband looked at her in surprise.

“Wasn’t your surname Grigoryeva?”

Zhanna turned to him:

“What a coincidence. As always, you understand nothing. And the restaurant choice is wrong. Everything is off…”

She looked around and pointed somewhere with her finger.

“These burgundy curtains are awful.”

Her husband widened his eyes.

“How was I to know that you choose a restaurant by its curtains? And why are burgundy curtains bad if your bedroom has the same?”

Zhanna, in anger, pushed the chair aside and sat with her back to the stage.

“Oh my God, what a husband I have! All other husbands are decent, but mine just ruins every celebration.”

Silence fell over the hall. Almost immediately, a girlish voice began to sing a sad melody. Zhanna crumpled a napkin and tossed it onto the table.

“And now what? Are we going to listen to this little singer for the rest of my party?”

Her husband sighed and stood up.

“Girls, excuse me. I’ll come back later to drive you home.”

Zhanna watched him with a bewildered look and sighed heavily.

“Now you’ll have to sit like a statue. Not turning around, not dancing…

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