It was a rainy morning on the farm when my mother-in-law, Daria, emerged from the mist, clutching two abandoned babies she’d found in an old well. Barely alive, they sparked a new hope in my husband Roman and me, who had struggled with infertility. We named them Elina and Marko—Grace and Strength—and raised them as our own. The farm thrived with their presence. Years later, Daria passed, leaving Roman withdrawn until my father, Pavel, moved in, helping heal our family. The twins grew, excelling in life, and later discovered
discrepancies in their past but chose love over questions. At 18, they pursued university but returned, rooting themselves near us. Now, we gather under Roman’s gazebo, sharing meals and sunsets, silent about the well, focused on our bond. Family, we learned, is a choice to love unconditionally, beyond blood or secrets.
