Chapter 1: A Knock at the Door Angelina was bustling around the kitchen, preparing a solitary dinner. She had moved to the big city in late August after getting accepted into university. Her parents had helped her move and settle into a small rented apartment, but once they left, her fiercely independent life truly began. Juggling a tight budget, a part-time job, endless chores, and classes felt like a non-stop whirlwind. The young student was doing everything she could just to keep from drowning under the pressure. Outside the window, heavy flakes of holiday snow drifted through the air. December had arrived. It brought a wave of anxiety—her very first finals week was looming—but also a spark of joy, since Angelina was planning to go back home to her parents for the winter break. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Angelina froze in surprise. She wasn’t expecting anyone and hadn’t ordered any deliveries. Setting the frying pan aside, she crept timidly toward the door and peered through the peephole. Nothing but an empty hallway. Wiping her hands on her apron with trembling fingers, she cracked the door open. There, sitting right on the welcome mat, was a bundled-up blanket. “Oh my God!” she gasped. She slammed the door shut, assuming it was someone's twisted prank. Heart pounding, she took a shaky breath and forced herself to open it again. The bundle stirred, followed by a faint, almost toy-like whimper. She scooped the tiny package into her arms, pressing it close to her chest. It was a baby. “Oh my God…” she whispered again, though this time in sheer awe rather than fear. At first, the infant crinkled his face, on the verge of tears. But the sudden warmth of her body and his sweet, milky scent did the trick. He let out a heavy sigh and nestled closer. He was freezing, clearly not dressed for the bitter December weather. Angelina scanned the stairwell, but the building was completely deserted. She hurried inside and laid him gently on the sofa. The little guy looked around with wide, curious eyes, kicking his tiny legs and waving his arms as he took in his new surroundings. Meanwhile, Angelina’s hands shook as she dialed emergency services. “Emergency services, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher’s professional voice cut through the line. “Hello! I… I found a baby. I don’t know what to do,” Angelina stammered, panic rising in her throat. “Is it your child, ma'am?” “No! He was… left here. Someone abandoned him!” “Abandoned? Can you tell me exactly what happened?” “Someone rang my doorbell. When I opened it, there was just a baby on my doorstep, and no one else in sight. Oh God, I don't know what to do.” “Take a deep breath. What is your name?” “Angelina Volkova…” “Angelina, are you in any immediate danger? Are you safe right now?” “Yes, I think so.” “Good. Give me your address, and I’ll dispatch officers to your location immediately.” Angelina rattled off the address of her rental. “An officer is on the way, Angelina. They’ll take it from here. Don't hang up just yet, keep talking to me, okay?” “Okay.” “How old does the child look?” “I don't know. Under a year. An infant.” “Boy or girl?” Angelina carefully unzipped the snowsuit. “It's a boy. Oh goodness, he's freezing to the touch, but he isn't shivering.” “Infants don't always have a developed shivering reflex yet, which makes hypothermia very dangerous,” the dispatcher explained, before guiding her through how to warm the baby up safely. By the time the call neared its end, the boy was looking up at his savior with absolute trust, reaching out his tiny hands. Angelina had managed to calm down, gently rocking him. “Thank you. I can hear the sirens now, I’m going to open the door,” Angelina said, hanging up. She looked down at the little one again. He flashed a toothless grin, happily playing with a corner of a kitchen towel she had left on the couch. Good heavens, she thought, a sudden wave of reality hitting her. What if they don't find his parents right away? What am I supposed to do with a baby during finals week? Angelina opened the door to find three uniformed officers. A man and a woman stood at the front, with a younger officer holding a tablet just behind them. The woman spoke first: “Good evening. I'm Lieutenant Gushchina with Child Protective Services. Are you the one who found the child?” Angelina nodded and ushered them inside. The female officer went straight to the sofa, lifting the baby with seasoned, motherly ease. She quickly checked his umbilical area, his limbs, and peeked inside his swaddling cloth. “A boy, roughly six months old,” she announced to her colleague. “No obvious visible injuries or distress. Well-nourished.” The senior officer, a man with a tired, weathered face, pulled up a chair in the hallway and began filling out a report. The rookie with the tablet hovered nearby, shifting from foot to foot with unmistakable trainee nerves. Angelina answered their questions mechanically: her name, age, where she studied, criminal record (none), and who else lived there. Then came the questions about the incident: the exact time of the doorbell, what she saw, and whether she heard any suspicious footsteps or voices. “We can’t leave him with you, even temporarily,” the senior officer said, looking up from his clipboard. “Legally, we have to take him to the hospital for a checkup first. After that, he’ll go into the system—temporary foster care. Besides, you’re a student, you have no experience with infants.” “Actually, the local shelter is out of the question right now,” Gushchina interjected, still cradling the boy. “They're locked down under a rotavirus quarantine, and our temporary holding facilities are completely packed. He’d have to go straight to the isolation ward at the municipal hospital.” Something about those words—isolation ward, temporary holding—sent a cold shiver down Angelina’s spine. She instantly pictured a bleak, sterile hospital room, and a rotating shift of strangers who would only come to feed him once every four hours. She remembered reading somewhere that abandoned babies eventually stop crying altogether, simply because they learn that no one is coming to hold them. “Could I keep him here with me?” she heard herself say before she could even think it through. “Just… just until you find his parents?” The senior officer raised an eyebrow. Gushchina exchanged a long look with her partner. “Do you understand the weight of the responsibility you’re taking on?” the woman asked gravely. “We would have to file an emergency temporary placement order. Police and social services will be conducting unannounced welfare checks. If anything happens to this child under your watch, you will be held legally liable—potentially facing criminal charges.” “I understand,” Angelina said. Even she was surprised by how steady and unwavering her voice sounded. Gushchina looked back at the senior officer. He shrugged. “If the girl is willing, it saves us the paperwork of finding an emergency bed tonight. But everything goes by the book. No exceptions.” An hour later, the apartment was quiet again. Angelina stood in the middle of the room holding a stack of forms: a referral to the pediatric clinic for tomorrow morning, the local precinct's number, and Gushchina’s business card. The police were gone, and she was left standing alone with a baby who suddenly let out a loud, demanding wail. And just like that, with New Year’s right around the corner, Angelina had a baby.