Tamara Andreevna braked sharply. Dispatcher Lena was already hurrying to the vehicle.

“Len, what happened? We do have phone communication, you know!”

“Tamara Andreevna, it’s that same call again — about the girl who loses consciousness.”

Toma raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Again? I was at their house just yesterday.

The child seemed healthy. I even suggested the parents get her examined, but the father was categorically against it. What’s really going on there?”

Lena only shrugged.

“People can be different. But we can’t ignore it — especially with a child. And no other crews are available right now.”

“Alright, I’ll go. Just a minute — I’ll hand over some documents.”

A few minutes later, Tamara was already sitting in the ambulance, her head resting against the seatback, eyes closed.

Behind her — twenty years of heading a department in the city’s largest hospital. Her colleagues respected her, patients trusted her, and her superiors valued her professionalism.

But at home, it was different. In her family, she didn’t feel like a person — she felt like a victim.

Once, her husband Konstantin had charmed her at first sight.

He seemed attentive, caring, loving.

Their relationship quickly turned into marriage, which over time became a nightmare.

At first, he simply took over the family matters: managed the budget, handled daily issues.

Tamara was even relieved — life became easier. Then came the comments: about torn clothes, about her manicure, about going to the hairdresser.

“Tamarochka, why do you need this? Can’t you be more careful? Why pay for a haircut when you can do it yourself?

A woman should be natural. With long hair and a natural color — that’s when you’re most beautiful.”

Gradually, Tamara adjusted to his demands: she stopped visiting the salon, did her hair at home, learned to care for her nails, and dressed flawlessly — just to avoid more criticism.

Once, she stayed out half an hour late after work — just to meet a friend she hadn’t seen in years.

Returning home, she encountered his first explosion of rage.

He yelled, called her vile names, looked at her like a stranger.

Then he apologized — but the fear stayed inside her.

About six months later, she returned home late again.

She had nearly forgotten that earlier scene, but before entering the apartment, she shuddered — as if sensing something bad.

As soon as she walked in, he struck her. Just like that. No warning.

She fell, and Kostya loomed over her, screaming:

“Where have you been?! Where the hell were you?!”

He beat her right in the hallway — first with his hands, then his feet.

She lost consciousness and woke up in bed, where he was doing something far worse than just beating her.

She stayed home for five days. Her face healed. Her body didn’t. Kostya, looking at her, said:

“This is all because you don’t listen. I don’t want to do this — but you ask for it.”

Tamara nodded in agreement. And so began fifteen years of silent slavery.

After one particularly brutal incident, she lost their child — a miscarriage.

Kostya didn’t even hide his indifference.

But one night, while he was on duty, Tamara gathered her strength and went to the police.

The investigator noticed her immediately — pale, shaking, barely standing.

She began to speak, her voice trembling, but her words were clear.

Just before she fainted, she whispered:

“Please… not our hospital. Please.”

The case got widespread attention. It turned out Kostya had many women — some of whom also came forward.

He was sent for psychiatric treatment, paid for by his parents.

After his release, he disappeared — reportedly went abroad.

Tamara resigned from the hospital. She couldn’t work among people who knew her pain.

She changed jobs — joined the ambulance service. Never once regretted it.

“Stepanovich, let’s turn into the shopping center,” Tamara Andreevna suddenly said, opening her eyes.

“Forgot something?” the driver asked.

“Yes, I need to buy something.”

Without delay, she exited and headed quickly to the electronics store.

Inside, she scanned the displays and approached a salesperson.

“I need the smallest camera you’ve got — preferably one with remote access.”

Tamara Andreevna entered the familiar apartment, where she was clearly awaited with unease.

The girl’s father sat by the bed, the mother next to him, gently holding the child’s hand.

The man gave a curt nod, but irritation was evident in his eyes.

“I don’t understand why you still can’t make a diagnosis,” the man said, crossing his arms.

Tamara sighed heavily, trying to stay calm.

“Because there are illnesses that can’t be diagnosed without hospitalization and specialized equipment.

We don’t have that in the ambulance. I can only do what’s possible during a house visit.”

The man waved dismissively.

“I still hope you figure it out.”

For the first time, he didn’t follow her into the girl’s room — he stayed at the door.

But Tamara could feel his intense gaze even through the wall.

“Well, Sonechka, hello! Tell me what happened to you,” she began gently, approaching the child.

The girl shrugged.

“Everything was fine, and then it went dark, and I fell.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“I’m okay now.”

Tamara Andreevna glanced at the father.

“You must understand — these fainting spells aren’t random.

They’re signals from the body. And if you keep ignoring them, the consequences could be serious.

The child doesn’t complain about anything else?”

The man twitched his cheek.

“No. Why would she?”

Tamara then looked at the girl’s mother. The woman stood slightly apart — thin, pale, eyes downcast.

Her gaze was empty, as if life was slowly leaving her.

“And why are you silent? As her mother, you understand an exam is necessary, right?

What if it’s something serious?”

“My husband knows best what to do,” the woman replied quietly, without lifting her eyes.

Tamara felt everything inside her tighten.

She paused, then asked:

“Excuse me, may I have some water?”

The man threw a quick glance at his wife, and she, like on cue, went to the kitchen.

As he watched her, Tamara deftly reached for the toy shelf and discreetly placed the miniature camera.

Luckily, the salesperson had already helped her set it up.

Later, when the calls became less frequent, Tamara opened the app on her phone and began reviewing the footage.

What she saw made her heart clench.

Sonia’s father was beating his wife.

The girl was out of sight during the recordings — and where she was remained unknown.

“My God…” Tamara whispered, straightening suddenly. The driver, noticing her reaction, looked at the screen and whistled.

In the video, the man was shouting:

“There’s just a little time left — and I won’t need you anymore.”

Tamara stared at the screen, her own pain resurfacing vividly.

“Stepanovich, we have to go! Now!”

“You sure?” the driver frowned.

“Yes, absolutely. No one helped me back then, and I endured fifteen years.

I know how terrifying it is to stand alone against someone like him.”

Stepanovich shook his head but started the engine.

“Well, well — turns out even Tamara Andreevna can take decisive action…”

“I’m leaving for a couple of hours, maybe a bit more. Lock the door, don’t let anyone in.

If anything happens — it’ll be worse for everyone.”

The woman looked up at him from below.

“Anton, just let us go. We won’t interfere in anything.

Take your money — just let us go. I pity our daughter.”

He stepped closer and lifted her chin.

“No, dear — that doesn’t work for me. I want to manage the money freely, without constantly fearing you two might pop up somewhere.

I’ve got to go.”

As soon as he left, Sonya ran into the room. She rushed to her mother and hugged her tightly.

They remained sitting on the floor, clinging to each other.

Meanwhile, Tamara persistently pressed the doorbell.

At last, the door opened slightly. A frightened woman peeked out.

– You? But we didn’t call anyone. Everything is fine here.

– Don’t lie to yourself. Nothing is fine. My husband used to beat me too, so I know what fear looks like.

I endured it for many years because I saw no way out. But you have a chance — you have a daughter.

Take your things — we’ll get you out of here. We’ll take you to a safe place, sort out the documents, and you’ll get help.

Just don’t miss this moment.

– No, you’re mistaken, – the woman glanced around nervously. – Everything really is fine.

– You might not get another chance. Don’t think about yourself — think about Sonya.

From the children’s room came the voice of a little girl:

– Mommy, let’s leave this place, please…

Those words were like an awakening. The woman stirred and nodded, breathless with anxiety.

– I… I’m scared. But give me a minute.

She darted into the apartment and returned with a small suitcase.

– Please, help us. We have no one but you.

They quickly left and got into the car. Tamara gave the command:

– Take us to the station. Fast.

– What’s your name? – asked Tamara Andreevna.

– Valeria. The thing is, my father left an inheritance for me and Sonya.

And in his will, it clearly states: my husband is not allowed to manage the money.

My father must have sensed what kind of man he was dealing with. I never told him anything, but he understood anyway.

She fell silent, gathering her thoughts, then continued:

– Andrei is just waiting. He even told me: he has two options.

The first — wait until I start resisting, then have me declared mentally incompetent.

The second — if I can’t take it anymore and do something drastic…

Either way, he’ll become Sonya’s sole guardian.

– Is it really that bad? – Tamara couldn’t help but ask.

– People will do anything for money. But in a way, it’s a good thing.

You can’t call him insane — he has a motive.

That means it’s possible to gather enough evidence to put him behind bars.

– No, he’ll find a way to get away with it. He has money. Your money.

Valeria looked at her in surprise.

– Yes. You can block access to the bank cards.

Then use them yourself to protect yourself and your daughter.

– I don’t have a phone. Andrei didn’t allow me to use one.

– And documents?.. Yes, I know, the safe… But I have a phone.

Use mine.

The woman took the device, held it in her hands for a few seconds as if weighing the decision, then confidently dialed the bank.

Stepanovich turned to Tamara:

– Tamara, I have a nephew in the police. Not a top guy, but respected.

Maybe we can go see him? Today’s his day off, and he lives alone.

– Is that possible?

– Of course. He’s a good guy. A cop, but not like the rest.

Half an hour later, they were already standing outside his building. Kirill met them himself.

He turned out to be friendly, attentive, and a good listener.

Valeria spoke for a long time, sobbing, reliving every painful detail.

When she finished, the man tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully:

– Listen, you’d better stay here for a few days. We’ll open a criminal case.

Your husband should no longer be near you.

– Are you serious? Take him into custody?

– Exactly. By the way, I remember your family’s case — your father’s death still remains a mystery.

And now, I think I’m beginning to see the full picture.

– Are you saying…

– I’m not saying anything yet. I work with facts, not assumptions.

When Tamara left, Sonya was peacefully sleeping on the couch, curled up like a kitten.

Lera looked a bit more relaxed, as if for the first time in a long while, she could breathe freely.

Toma knew she was leaving them in safety. Her ex-husband definitely wouldn’t look for them there.

The next morning was sunny, and the air smelled like spring.

Tamara walked to work, enjoying the quiet streets.

Just by the station gates, a familiar voice called out to her.

– Stop! — Andrei appeared in front of her. He grabbed her jacket.

— Tell me where they are?! You took them, I know!

Tamara tried to break free, but he gripped her throat tightly, his eyes wild, his hands trembling.

– Go to hell… You’re begging to go to jail.

— She could barely breathe. — You ruined everything… You planned it all so carefully…

But suddenly, someone tore him off her and literally lifted him into the air.

A second later, he was rolling on the asphalt, shouting threats:

– You’ll regret this! All of you!

Kirill and Stepanovich were already standing next to him. The officer was taking the first statement.

The trial began six months later. By then, Kirill had fully immersed himself in the case.

Based on Valeria’s testimony, they searched the house and found crucial evidence linking Andrei to his father-in-law’s death.

Everything fell into place.

Tamara noticed how much Kirill had become a support for Valeria and Sonya.

They were alive again, real. And after a while, they invited her to their wedding.