About the book: year / - Why didn’t you say that you gave birth to a daughter? — Kirill asked displeasedly, twirling his coffee with his fingers. “Didn’t think I had the right to know?” - Why? - I sighed heavily and grinned. — You moved to Moscow, started actively acting in films again, even found a new girlfriend... Is there really a place for Sonya in this wonderful life? - She's mine! - Pokrovsky shouted too sharply, but, noticing the increased attention, he shyed away. “She’s my daughter...” “No, Kirill,” she smiled, deciding that she didn’t want to continue the meaningless conversation. - She is my daughter. Please don't try to talk to her again unless you want me to report you to the police. My voice seemed indifferent, as if I was talking to a stranger, but my heart, which had been aching for so long with love for Pokrovsky, was breaking, demanding to throw myself around Kirill’s neck.