A desperate orphan with a suitcase knocked on the door of a restaurant. The owner was stunned when he learned her last name.

“You will become the brightest star, the most talented of them all. You will be noticed, and your name will appear on every poster.”

Don’t cry, my girl, don’t. You can’t fool fate. Listen to me, please,” he whispered.

Sofia lifted her tear-streaked face. Her father spoke in a barely audible voice, as though each word was a struggle:

“Just don’t interrupt. I have no strength left… There used to be two of us — Mikhail and I, Grigory. We were inseparable friends, we even swore by blood that our friendship would last forever. And then your mother came along. We both fell in love with her. You see, when love comes between people, friendship often takes a back seat. Your mother chose me, and Mikhail couldn’t come to terms with it.

But he’s a wonderful person. If things get really hard for you, you can turn to him. He won’t abandon you. He now owns the ‘Breeze’ restaurant. Remember this, Sofia. One day, it might save you. There’s more, but if he wants, he’ll tell you himself…

Remember: I love you with all my heart, I believe in you, and I know you’ll manage.

Sofia hugged her father tightly, and suddenly his body tensed, then went limp.

“Dad! Dad!” Her scream echoed through the room.

They pulled her away from the bed. The doctors were running around frantically, but Sofia watched the scene as if from a distance. One thought kept spinning in her mind: “I am alone. I am completely alone in this world.”

The next day, after the wake, when the guests had left, the stepmother gave Sofia a cold look

Tomorrow, go find a job. I’m not going to feed you.”

“But I’m studying…”

“Studying, huh!” the stepmother mocked. “You won’t get full on songs. If you don’t find a job, you’ll be out on the street. Got it?”

“But this is my home!”

The stepmother jumped up, her eyes flashing:

“What? Your home? Ha! This is my home. I’m your father’s lawful wife. So shut up. And know this: I’m being nice right now. But I can be different.”

Sofia ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She cried all night, holding a photo of her father. By morning, she decided: her father had left enough money for her to finish her studies and try to fulfill his dream.

He had always wanted Sofia to sing. Since childhood, she had won competitions. Her teachers said it was hard to break through, but even if she didn’t, her voice would always feed her.

“Just imagine: anyone who hears your name — Sofia Grigoryeva — will never forget it,” they told her.

She smiled. Yes, her father had tried. She wasn’t just Grigoryeva, she was also Grigoryevna.