A young Bulgarian bride blessed by a king. A mother condemned as an "enemy of the people." A refugee who chooses survival over everything, and spends fifty years paying the price. In 1938, in a mountain village near the Serbian border, eighteen-year-old Nada (Nadezhda, meaning Hope) draws water from the village well when a young soldier asks for a drink. By autumn she is his bride, her wedding unexpectedly blessed by King Boris III himself, the photographs capturing a moment of impossible happiness before history turns dark. When war and communism smash into Bulgaria, her husband Vassil is arrested as a traitor and disappears into the new regime's grave yards. One midnight knock later, Nada faces an unspeakable choice at gunpoint: die and leave her children or live and abandon them. What follows is a harrowing journey through the shattered Balkans with her tormentor, royalist guerrillas, a British refugee ship, and the displaced-persons camps of postwar Belgium, before a new life as a "good immigrant wife" on a Saskatchewan farm and then in Edmonton. To the Canadian community she becomes kindly "Baba Nada," the woman who bakes banitsas and tells stories of the old country. Only one person ever hears the truth: a young Bulgarian mathematician who arrives in Edmonton in 1990, just after communism collapses back home and the past threatens to break its silence, but Nada has chosen her name from Hope to mean nada (nothing). Told across half a century and two continents, Nada Means Nothing is a profoundly human story about impossible moral choices, the private cost of public history, and the weight of secrets passed between generations. It asks whether survival is enough, what we owe to the ones we left behind, and if a life built on silence can still mean something in the end.