It had been an incredibly eventful year. Angelina was bustling around the kitchen, helping her mother set the holiday table. “Sweetie, please sit down,” her mother said, shaking her head. “I can see you rubbing your lower back.” Angelina obliged, sinking into a chair and gently smoothing her hand over her heavily rounded stomach. Nearby, Peter sat in his high chair, happily kicking his little legs as he devoured a jar of applesauce. Over the past twelve months, he had officially become a Kotov. His biological parents had been stripped of their parental rights, and Maksim had used his professional connections to fast-track the adoption process. “Your husband is running a bit late with his shift,” Angelina’s father noted, walking into the kitchen. “Maksim took some time off for the holidays, so he’s just wrapping up his paperwork so no one bothers him during his vacation.” “So, have you two officially decided on a partner birth?” her mother asked, looking up from a steaming pot. “Yes, Mom. Having him there will make me feel so much more at ease.” The faint jingle of keys echoed from the entryway. Completely forgetting her pregnancy for a split second, Angelina bolted upright and hurried to greet her husband. Maksim stepped inside, his face flushed red from the biting winter cold. “Hey, hey, beautiful. Let me wash my hands first. I don’t want to bring any freezing germs near my favorite girl.” Angelina giggled, leaning against the wall. Soon, they were all seated around the table. Tonight’s menu was a nostalgic echo of the year before: traditional Olivier salad, savory layered herring, clementines, and traditional berry mors. At Maksim’s strict insistence, there wasn't a drop of alcohol in sight. “If Angelina can’t drink, then none of us are drinking,” he had declared. Peter sat proudly in his high chair, determined to guide a spoon into the salad bowls and successfully smearing potato puree across his tray. Much to his utter disappointment, his grandparents quickly swapped it for fresh slices of cucumber and tomato. “Do you remember exactly one year ago today when she called me out of nowhere and said, ‘Mom, I have a baby’?” her mother laughed, shaking her head. “I swear my heart stopped right then and there!” “And do you remember how I was standing in that twenty-four-hour grocery store without a hat, completely clueless about how to feed him?” Angelina chimed in, rocking back in her chair. “Or how absolutely terrified I was when he peed on me like a fountain the minute I opened his diaper?” The table erupted into a warm wave of shared laughter. “Why are you so flushed, anyway?” Angelina suddenly asked, studying her husband’s face across the table. Maksim looked back at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Flushed? Well, it’s freezing outside. Either that, or I’m just anxious. I have one very specific wish tonight.” “What’s that?” Angelina asked. “I just want everything to go smoothly,” he said softly, reaching across to squeeze her hand under the table. Angelina smiled. But a sudden, sharp tightness rippled across her abdomen, making her wince slightly. “Angelina, what’s wrong?” her mother asked instantly, her eyes narrowing. “Nothing, Mom. Really. The baby’s just kicking. She’s been incredibly active all day.” The clock on the wall read eleven forty-five. The holiday concert on the television faded out, replaced by the familiar chimes of the pre-midnight broadcast. “Alright, should we start writing our wishes?” Angelina asked, forcing her voice to sound bright and steady. Then, the dull ache in her lower abdomen returned. Only this time, it ripped through her with twice the intensity. “Angelina,” her mother said, leaning across the table to read her expression. “Are those contractions?” “No, Mom, come on. My due date isn't for another two weeks. Stop worrying.” “Don't you dare try to fool me, young lady. I’ve given birth three times; I know exactly what a contraction looks like.” Maksim bolted out of his chair, nearly knocking it over. “Angelina! Are you in labor?!” “Shh! Quiet!” Angelina hissed, gripping the edge of the table. “I just want to ring in the New Year in peace! We literally just sat down to eat...” She couldn't finish the sentence. A fresh wave of intense pain tightly gripped her stomach. “Oh... oh boy,” she whispered, breathing heavily. Her mother was already moving, snatching the hospital bag that had been sitting packed by the front door for the last three weeks. “I knew it! I knew she’d choose tonight of all nights! Maksim, grab the keys!” “I should call an ambulance right now,” Maksim stammered, his fingers fumbling with his phone as he searched for the emergency number. “Max, no, don't call an ambulance! I can't wait that long! Just get the car moving!” Angelina tried to take a step forward, but her legs suddenly gave way under the pressure. “Mom, is this actually happening right now? Or is it just Braxton Hicks?” she muttered frantically as the wave of pain receded for a brief second. “Braxton Hicks, my foot! This baby is coming fast!” her mother countered, already throwing a heavy winter coat over her daughter's shoulders.Item on her shoulder adjusted. “To the car! Now!” “What about Peter?!” Angelina’s father panicked, pacing frantically around the kitchen. “He’s coming with us! Move!” Maksim commanded, his authority slipping back into his voice. Angelina stood in the hallway, pressing both palms firmly against her swollen belly. Maksim stepped up beside her, gently pulling her against him. “Hang in there, my love,” he whispered into her hair, his voice fierce with emotion. “You are so strong. You can do this.” Angelina looked up, smiling through a sudden rush of tears. “With you? Always.” They practically flew out of the apartment building. Her father held Peter tightly in his arms, her mother clutched the hospital bag, and fireworks were already beginning to echo across the skyline. The dashboard clock read eleven fifty-eight. Maksim drove rapidly, navigating the slick streets with practiced, cautious precision. “Just breathe, honey. Talk to me, don't go quiet,” he urged, throwing anxious glances toward the passenger seat. “I am breathing,” she managed to squeeze out between clenched teeth. “Oh... Maksim... another one...” “Forget two weeks!” her mother yelled from the back seat. “We’ve got about two minutes!” Angelina squeezed Maksim’s hand so tightly that he let out a sharp hiss, but he didn't pull away. With her teeth clenched and her eyes wet with tears, she stared out the window, watching the vibrant holiday lights color the falling snow. The clock ticked to eleven fifty-nine. The booming chimes of the midnight bells began to echo from the car speakers, matching the distant roar of the city outside. Snow drifted heavily through the air, fireworks illuminated the sky, and Angelina felt as though her entire universe was about to fracture and reshape itself into a beautiful new life. “Happy New Year, Angelina,” Maksim murmured softly. “Happy New Year,” she whispered back. A few hours later, Angelina lay resting in the quiet hospital room, cradling a tiny, crying bundle tightly in her arms. She looked down at her newborn daughter, who blinked up at the world with wide, curious eyes and crinkled her tiny nose. “Hello there,” Angelina whispered softly. “Happy New Year, my beautiful girl.” Maksim sat on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand so tightly his knuckles turned white, while silent tears traced down his cheeks. He looked at Angelina and their baby girl, entirely beyond the need for words. Peter sat securely on his grandfather’s lap, staring at the tiny infant in utter fascination. “Mama, sister?” he asked, pointing a chubby finger. “Yes, baby,” Angelina laughed softly through her exhaustion. “That’s your little sister.” “What are we going to name her?” Maksim asked, clearing his throat to steady his voice. “Let’s name her...” Angelina trailed off, looking out the frosted window. Then, a soft smile lit up her face. “Nadia.” “Nadia?” her mother asked in surprise from her chair. “That means...” “Hope,” Angelina nodded, her eyes shining. “Because she is my hope. She is our hope.” Maksim leaned in close, wrapping his arms securely around his wife, being careful not to disturb the sleeping newborn. He pressed a long, tender kiss against her temple. “Happy New Year, my love,” he whispered into the quiet room. “Happy New Year, Max.” Outside the hospital window, the snow continued to fall silently over the glittering city, illuminating the streets with a festive, warm glow. The city was wrapping up the first day of January, but for the Kotov family, the new year had only just begun. The End