I immediately beckon her to come inside.
“No…I’m unclean.” She steps back, scratching her head again.
“Come in out of the cold,” I command warmly, gesturing to her to enter.
She hesitates for a moment but follows me inside. I tell a servant to bring us food as I lead her to a private room.
“Please sit.”
She shakes her head, looking upset. “No. I will dirty it.”
I place my hand over my heart. “You are a guest in my home. Please sit.”
She does so reluctantly, sitting on the very edge of the seat. She swipes her nose as her gaze darts around the room.
“What do you need?”
The girl glances at the door, suddenly looking scared and it seems like she might run.
I say nothing, afraid if I break the silence, she will bolt out the door.
“I saw you…” she begins in a meek voice. When the girl looks up and meets my gaze, I notice her eyes are dilated. I’m unsure if it’s only from fear.
“Where?”
“In the papers.” Her lips tremble, but then she says in a hopeful voice, “You rescued that girl.”
I nod. “She is safe.”
She clasps her hands together nervously, her whole body visibly shaking.
“How can I help you?”
The girl instantly tenses when a servant knocks on the doorframe before entering with a tray of food.
I get up and take the tray, silently sending the servant out of the room.
Laying it on the side table next to her, I pour us both of a glass of hot tea and hand a cup to her.
My heart constricts when I see just how skeletal her hand is as she takes it. It’s so reminiscent of Tatianna’s condition when we found her.
After I sip the tea, I pick up a sandwich and take a bite.
I hear her stomach growl and watch as she hesitantly reaches for one. I notice the tracks of needle marks on her arm and the hairs on my neck rise.
Staying calm, I ask, “What happened to you?”
She looks at me for a moment, then puts the sandwich down and lowers her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. “They hurt me.”
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and my protective instincts take over. “You are safe here. No one will hurt you, but you need to see a doctor.”
The color drains from her face and she looks as if she might faint. “Zuyev will find me!” she cries in a terrified voice.
“I can send for a doctor. You don’t have to leave this place,” I assure her.
The girl looks at me with frightened eyes but nods. I now know her pupils are dilated because she is suffering from withdrawal. I pull out my phone and call my physician, asking him to send a female doctor for the house call.
I glance at the girl as I speak to him. She stares at me like a scared rabbit.
Understanding the girl needs sustenance, I hold up my sandwich and smile. “Might as well eat while we wait.”
I take an unhurried bite and wink at her while I chew, acting as if this is completely normal.
After several moments, she picks up her sandwich and begins nibbling on it.
I have no idea what this young woman has been through, but I admire her courage in coming here to seek help. Rather than pepper her with questions, I focus my efforts on getting her to eat.
Questions can wait.
When Dr. Morozova arrives, I get up to leave the room so she can perform the examination.
“Please don’t go,” the girl cries as I start toward the door.
I glance at Dr. Morozova.
I feel uncomfortable remaining in the room. However, I don’t want the girl to feel abandoned and promise her, “I will be right outside the door if you need me.”
I close the door and stand there for over an hour.
When Dr. Morozova opens it again, the girl’s tearstained face concerns me. She nods to the girl and gives her a reassuring smile before shutting the door.
“How is she?”
“I was able to get her parent’s number and am going to call them. I’ll speak to you afterward.”
She leaves to make the call but returns minutes later with a distressed expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
She looks at me in despair. “Her parents want nothing to do with her.”
“What?” I growl, unable to fathom it.
“The father mumbled something about her being tainted now.”
I snarl. “How can the man have such a callous heart?”
Dr. Morozova frowns. “Some families cannot bear the shame of rape.”
“Shame? The girl has done nothing wrong!”
Dr. Morozova glances at the door, stating, “Unfortunately, they refuse to take her back.”
I close my eyes, rage churning inside me.
“I’ll make calls to locate a family who can take her in temporarily until they can find a more permanent residence,” she assures me. “But Lada has immediate health concerns and will need psychological care.”
I remember taking all these steps after rescuing Tatianna. Being welcomed back into the loving bosom of her family wasn’t enough to save her—and this girl doesn’t even have that.
I couldn’t bear it if this child becomes another statistic, so I inform the doctor, “I will pay for all of her medical needs.”
“It can take years to recover in cases like this,” she warns me.
“I’ll consider it money well spent.”
I open the door to check on Lada and almost hit the girl, who’s been leaning against it.
“They don’t want me…?” she whimpers.
The look of pain in her eyes cuts me like a knife.
Dr. Morozova explains to Lada that she will be taking her to get help but the girl runs to me. Wrapping her thin arms around me tightly, she cries, “Don’t let her take me. I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die, Lada. Dr. Morozova is taking you someplace safe to recover.”
“Please don’t let her take me!” she whimpers.
I look at Dr. Morozova, unsure of what to do.
She gives me a sympathetic look as she puts her arms around the girl. “Come with me, Lada. I promise you’ll be safe, and we will get you the help you need.”
Dr. Morozova tries unsuccessfully to pull the girl from me, but Lada clings to me with all of her strength and starts weeping.
Dr. Morozova looks at me in distress. “I’ll need your help, Mr. Durov.”
“It’ll be okay,” I assure Lada as I attempt to pry her arms gently from me, but she only tightens her grip.
“Please don’t make me leave. I don’t want to die.”
Her words stab me in the heart.
I feel conflicted as I finally pull her from me and Dr. Morozova starts leading her toward the door.
The girl holds out an outstretched hand to me, begging, “Please…I don’t want to die!”
She starts screaming hysterically as she’s led down the hallway.
The sound of her cries claws at my soul. I don’t know what she is afraid of, but I can’t ignore her call for help. “Stop!”
Dr. Morozova turns around, beads of sweat rolling down her face as she struggles to keep hold of the girl.
“Lada can stay. I will make the appropriate arrangements.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod.