The Decision ~

12:43 AM.

Avika was still awake.

The room remained dark except for the faint light coming through the curtains.

Her suitcase stood beside the door.

Ready.

Waiting.

Everything in it was telling her to leave.

Her passport.

Her clothes.

Her flight confirmation.

Her plans.

Yet she couldn't sleep.

She sat up again.

Her thoughts returned to the call.

There had been something in the doctor's voice.

Not professional concern.

Desperation.

Avika had heard that tone before.

It was the voice of someone who had run out of options.

She reached for her phone.

The doctor's number was still on the screen.

She didn't call.

Instead, she stared at it.

"Why me?"

She whispered.

There were hundreds of doctors in Moscow.

Specialists.

Pediatricians.

Psychologists.

Trauma experts.

Why had they searched for her?

Then she remembered something else.

The doctor had said:

Most doctors refused.

Not because they couldn't treat the child.

Because they were afraid of becoming involved.

Which meant this wasn't simply a medical case.

There was something behind it.

Something dangerous.

Avika's instincts told her to stay away.

Her conscience told her otherwise.

She stood and walked toward the window.

Snow continued to fall.

The city looked peaceful.

But somewhere inside it, a child was lying awake in a room he didn't recognize.

Maybe afraid of every sound.

Maybe afraid that the people who had hurt him would return.

Maybe wondering why his parents hadn't come.

Avika's fingers tightened against the windowsill.

She hated that thought.

Not because she was emotionally attached to the child.

She hadn't even met him.

But because children weren't supposed to understand abandonment that way.

They were supposed to believe someone would come.

Someone would protect them.

Someone would say:

You're safe now.

Avika slowly closed her eyes.

She had spent years learning medicine because she believed treatment wasn't only about repairing the body.

Sometimes it was about giving someone enough safety to believe they could recover.

She turned away from the window.

Her suitcase was still waiting.

She walked toward it.

Her hand rested on the handle.

For a long moment, she didn't move.

Then she slowly released it.

"No."

She whispered.

"I'm not leaving."

She picked up her phone.

The call connected after several rings.

Dr. Mikhail answered almost immediately.

"Dr. Avika?"

His voice sounded surprised.

"Yes."

There was a brief silence.

"I've made my decision."

The doctor waited.

Avika looked toward the suitcase.

"I'll see the child."

The doctor's breath caught.

"Thank you."

"But I have conditions."

"Anything."

"I want the complete medical report."

"Of course."

"I want to know exactly how he was found."

"Yes."

"And I want to know why other doctors refused."

The doctor hesitated.

Avika immediately noticed.

"Dr. Petrov."

"Yes?"

"Don't hide anything from me."

Another silence.

Finally, he answered.

"I won't."

Avika nodded, even though he couldn't see her.

"Send me the address."

"I will."

She ended the call.

For several seconds, she simply stood there.

Then she looked at the clock.

1:06 AM.

Her flight was in only a few hours.

She had no idea how long she would remain in Moscow.

She didn't know who the child belonged to.

She didn't know who had kidnapped him.

She didn't know what danger waited beyond those hospital doors.

But she had made her decision.

Tomorrow morning—

she wasn't going to the airport.

She was going to the hospital.

And somewhere in another part of Moscow, a completely different man was also preparing for the morning.

Valerian.

The man who had ordered an investigation into Avika.

The man whose name she didn't yet know was connected to the child.

Their paths were about to cross again.

This time, neither of them would be able to simply walk away.

To be continued...

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