The dark waters of the Dnieper River churned wildly under the relentless gusts of a cold wind, fierce as a dog broken free from its chain. Leaden clouds hung low over the trees, torn apart by fiery streaks of lightning. Stepping into the water in such weather was the height of recklessness.
Or maybe, just the opposite, it was a calculated decision, because inside, her soul was ripped apart by the same kind of lightning. Despair, hopelessness, pain.
Somewhere on the other side of this watery expanse, she had been happy three years ago, but that fleeting happiness was now a distant memory. Back then, her life had been filled with three men dear to her heart: her father, her brother, and her beloved. Now, she was utterly alone in the world.
Her mother had passed when she was just ten, a pain that had slowly dulled over time, sinking deeper and deeper into her heart. She tried not to touch that wound too often, because there were still others in her life to love.
Her brother Andrew and her beloved Vasyl had died nearly three years ago, saving children during a fire at an orphanage. Andrew had rescued twelve kids but never made it out of the burning building himself. With Vasyl, who carried out ten little ones and suffered fatal burns, she had at least gotten to speak one last time. She still remembered how his soot-blackened fingers gripped her hand.
“I’ll look after Andrew, don’t cry,” he’d said then. “And we’ll see each other again. If not in this world, then in another. If not in this time, then in another. If not in this life, then in the next. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Malanka…”
Always cheerful by nature, he died in her arms, joking, hiding his pain.
Even back then, she felt her life was over. Her father pulled her through, the best therapist she could ever ask for. He tried to fill every minute of her days, to make her love the world again, to learn to smile and find joy.
“Life doesn’t end,” he’d told her. “Remember that, sweetheart, life never ends.”
Her father forced Melania to live and to take everything she could from life. She studied, traveled, even allowed herself to fall in love again, a year and a half after that tragedy. Another year and a half later, they decided to get married. Mstyslav was a striking young man from a refined family. His mother, once a popular singer, now worked at the local theater. His father was a university professor. They weren’t wealthy, but Mstyslav carried himself well. He took after his mother with his chestnut, slightly wavy hair, deep brown eyes, and strong build. He had a clear drive for the best things in life, but was that really a flaw? Naturally, he chose the best fiancée for himself. Melania was stunning, like she’d stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine, and brilliant to boot. Her long hair was light, with hints of copper, her skin a delicate peach tone, her lips full and expressive, and her eyes the color of a spring sky—sometimes almost blue, sometimes taking on the hue of cornflowers, and when she was angry, the shade of a stormy sky. She’d graduated college not on her father’s money, but through her own intellect. And she was always dressed impeccably, as they say, sharp and tasteful. Her dad ran a small but stable business with his close friend and Melania’s godfather, Stepan—a sushi bar in the city center.
The day before the wedding, her father happily announced they were planning to expand. All their assets had been transferred to Stepan for now, and her dad would register a new venture—a pizzeria. Stepan was like family, almost a brother, so there was no reason to worry.
And then the wedding day arrived. Close friends gathered at the registry office, but neither her father nor her godfather was there. They hadn’t expected Stepan—he was out of town, vacationing in Egypt with his family—but her dad’s phone wasn’t answering… They couldn’t wait any longer; their scheduled time for the ceremony had come, with just fifteen minutes before the next couple arrived. Mstyslav tugged Melania forward to sign the papers. They didn’t make it. The officiant was still reciting the standard lines when the smartphone in the groom’s pocket rang.
“You should’ve turned it off,” Melania whispered irritably. It was rude to interrupt such a solemn moment.
But Mstyslav raised the phone to his ear. The satisfied smile on his face vanished, and he suddenly changed, his face paling.
“Do you agree to become husband and wife, to love and protect each other, to be together in joy and in sorrow?” the officiant droned on. “Melania?”
“Yes,” the young woman nodded. This was a well-thought-out, deliberate step. With Mstyslav, she would be happy, find peace, build a family, and erect a wall between the present and the past so it could no longer darken her life.
“Mstyslav?”
“No,” he rasped, tugging at his tie as if it were choking him.
A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the marriage hall, broken only by the desperate buzzing of a fly beating against the windowpane.
“What?” The beautiful bride in her elegant white dress turned slowly to her groom. “Why?”
“Your father’s gone, Melania. His car went off the bridge into the Dnieper…”
The guests gasped quietly. No one had expected such a tragedy.
“I suggest you complete the ceremony,” the officiant said, adjusting her glasses. “You can postpone the reception for a more appropriate time. But right now, you should be together. It’s easier to bear misfortune together…”
“No,” Mstyslav shook his head. “There won’t be a wedding… I’m sorry…”
He turned and walked away down the red carpet, head bowed, not looking around.
And Melania was left alone in the middle of the hall, abandoned, lonely, devastated. It took a moment for her mind to register that she had lost the last person who loved her—her dear dad. And Mstyslav… What could have made him abandon his fiancée, who had just said “yes” and now desperately needed a strong shoulder to lean on?
In the complete silence, another ringtone pierced the air—this time from Melania’s phone. As if in a dream, she lifted it to her ear. It was the family lawyer.
“Melania… Hold on… I’ve got bad news… Your father… he’s gone.”
“I know…” she whispered faintly.
“And there’s more. Your godfather sold the business, liquidated all the assets, and left the country with his family. It’s fraud, of course. We’ll try to do something, but I can’t promise we’ll succeed. Good luck finding him now…”
Finally, it became clear why Mstyslav had left her. He hadn’t been marrying her—he’d been marrying her father’s business. And now that her dad was gone, now that she was left with nothing, her fiancé simply walked out of her life.
Melania tossed her phone over her shoulder and headed for the exit, passing between rows of guests whose eyes were filled with confusion, pity, and shock. Only one friend, her closest, Linusia, rushed after her, but she didn’t catch up. Melania climbed into the long white Cadillac waiting for the newlyweds and ordered the driver:
“Drive. To the Dnieper.”
And now she stood at the water’s edge, staring across to the opposite bank. Once, she had been happy, but everything that brought her joy had vanished into oblivion. Her brother Andrew, her beloved Vasyl, and now her dear dad. She had lost everyone, she had lost everything, even her faith in people…
So why go on living? For what? For whom?
Looking out with tear-blinded eyes that saw nothing, Melania slipped off her white shoes and stepped into the waters of the Dnieper. Not a single thought in her head, only despair. Dad, brother, Vasyl, there’s no one left to lose. Nothing holds me to this world. Where are you, my loved ones?
She didn’t even think of Mstyslav. To act so despicably—he didn’t deserve even a tiny corner of her memory. Before her eyes were only those who had truly loved her. Those she couldn’t bring back, no matter how she tried. Those without whom life had become empty.
Dad… Brother… Vasyl… It’s so empty… Take me with you!
And the girl in the long white dress took a few more steps into the water, its chill biting at her feet.
“Stop, Melania! Come back!” Linusia shouted, jumping out of a car that had nearly caught up to the Cadillac, but her friend didn’t seem to hear her.
Suddenly, the entire sky was illuminated by a bolt of lightning, so bright it seemed to shut down her mind. A glowing bubble seemed to spread around Melania, enveloping her. An incredible pain shot through her entire body, and she realized she couldn’t even move. At the same time, a deafening roar overwhelmed her, as if she’d been hit by a train. This must be how a person dies…
A lightning strike of 200 million volts races from the sky at a speed one-third that of light. Yet nine out of ten people struck by lightning survive. What will their lives be like?
But more than four thousand people die each year, and that’s data from just 26 countries. In reality, lightning kills far more. Melania might have joined the ranks of those who perished if not for her friend, who had already dialed emergency services and was screaming in desperation:
“Come immediately! A girl’s been struck by lightning!”
But Melania no longer heard her friend, no longer saw the Dnieper or the stormy sky above. She found herself in a completely different, unfamiliar place. Around her, people in ancient clothing scattered in panic, their mouths open in silent screams. Terrified horses neighed, flames shot upward, and fires broke out here and there…