Two small children hid from the world, finding protection in a shaggy dog named Sultan — their nanny, their guardian. They had no idea that one day love itself would come to help them.
On the outskirts of a small town lived Thomas Larsen, a father of two young children. After his wife’s death, all responsibilities fell on his shoulders. He worked as a senior engineer at a car lot and often traveled for work. Without the help of his elderly, kind neighbor, Martha, he would have had to quit his job — or send the children to an orphanage.
Little Lea, who could hear but not speak, never strayed from her older brother Lucas, just a year her senior. They understood each other without words, so they stayed home together instead of attending kindergarten.
In the yard lived a huge, shaggy dog — Sultan. He guarded the house, growled at strangers, but adored the children. They rode on his back, tugged at his ears, and hid in his doghouse, which had become their little safe world.
Martha often told Thomas:
— Thomas, you need a woman in the house. You won’t manage alone, and I don’t have the strength anymore.
One day Thomas met Ingrid at the station — a smiling, middle-aged woman who worked at the café. She said she had just moved to town and lived alone. Their acquaintance quickly turned into romance. Ingrid started visiting often, bringing sweets and reading bedtime stories to the kids.
But Sultan never accepted her. He growled, backed away from her, and even refused the treats she offered.
Thomas tried to reassure her:
— Don’t worry, he’ll get used to you.
On New Year’s, Ingrid moved in for good. The house transformed — sparkling clean and tidy. Thomas was happy: finally someone cared about the home and the children.
But the happiness didn’t last long.
Ingrid soon changed — the children, “strangers” in her world, irritated her. For the smallest offense she locked them in the dark pantry, forbidding Lucas to tell his father. Fear grew in the children, and they escaped to their only safe place — Sultan’s doghouse.
Sultan always sensed something was wrong. Every time Ingrid approached, he growled. The woman demanded Thomas “get rid of that beast,” but he firmly refused.
When Thomas left for another business trip, Ingrid invited guests and drank late into the night. The children again ran to the doghouse, pressing against Sultan to stay warm.
In November the frost arrived. Suddenly Ingrid pretended to be a good fairy — she took the children to the shop, bought them sweets and toys. Everyone thought she had finally become a good stepmother.
But that evening, once home, she locked them in the pantry again.
Late at night, drunk and wearing only light clothes, Ingrid took the children outside — “to the forest to pick mushrooms for Daddy.” The children shivered from the cold. At an abandoned quarry she locked them inside a rusty metal shed, then left, planning to report them “missing” in the morning.
Sultan howled — long and heartbreaking, slicing through the night.
He jerked once, broke the clasp of his chain, and vanished into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Karl, a truck driver, was passing by. Suddenly a huge dog appeared in front of his truck. Beside the dog stood a woman in white, with long wet hair. She motioned toward the forest. The chain on Sultan’s collar clinked, and he barked wildly.
Karl stopped… and followed them.
He found the shed, broke the lock, and carried out the frozen children, wrapping them in his jacket.
When he turned around — the woman and the dog were gone.
At the police station, the children told everything.
Karl and the officers brought them to Thomas’s house. Sultan, calm and silent, allowed strangers near the property for the first time.
Ingrid’s lies fell apart, and she finally confessed.
When Karl described the woman who had led him to the forest, Thomas froze. His eyes fell on the portrait in the living room.
— That’s her. The woman.
— Are you sure?
— Yes. Absolutely. That was her.
The portrait showed Anna — Thomas’s late wife, Lucas’s and Lea’s mother, who had died tragically three years earlier.
When Ingrid was being taken away, Sultan lunged from the shadows and clamped onto her leg. It took several men to pull him off. Thomas, pale, pressed his hand to his heart, knelt beside the dog, hugged him, and whispered:
— Thank you, my friend. You saved them… and maybe you saved me too.
Later, at Anna’s grave, beside the black marble monument, a bouquet of vivid red roses lay glowing against the snow — like a small flame preserving the power of love and loyalty.