“Andrey, promise me… promise you won’t abandon Larisa,” Nina whispered from the bed, her voice weak but full of pleading. “You know how fragile her health is. She needs constant care… You understand how difficult it is, but I’m so afraid she won’t manage alone. You will be her guardian for another two years… Please, take care of her. Do everything properly… for her… for me…”
Andrey nodded, clenching his teeth tightly, trying to keep his voice steady. He sat beside her, holding her hand, which looked bony, covered with thin, almost translucent skin. Outwardly he seemed composed, but inside his soul was boiling. He heard her words, but in his mind, he was already dreaming of how it would all finally end. How he would be free. How a new life would begin.
When Nina first fell ill, he was shocked. The doctors talked about the diagnosis, the chances, the treatment. Andrey believed they could handle it. He read everything he could, ran from clinic to clinic, ordered medicines from abroad. But time passed, and hope melted like spring snow. He was tired. Tired of hospital smells, IV drips, the silence broken only by coughing and moans. And also—tired of Larisa.
The girl lived in the house, but it was as if she didn’t live. She had become a shadow, a constant pain, a reminder of a past that was not his own. Larisa was not his biological daughter. She had entered his life as a stranger, remained a stranger, and left like a stranger. He felt no hatred toward her, but no love either. Only exhaustion. Only a burden. Only the continuous buzzing in his head screaming: “I want to live. I want to be free. I have only one life.”
He thought about leaving Nina. He even mentally said goodbye to her, but… society, neighbors, relatives—all would judge him. It’s not so easy to abandon a dying wife. But everything changed when the doctor said: “No more than a year left.” Then Andrey decided to endure. To endure like one endures a toothache before going to the dentist. To endure because at stake was a large four-room apartment—inherited from Nina’s first husband. Housing in the city center, in a prestigious district. An apartment that could fetch a good price. An apartment that could be the start of a new life.
And Larisa… Larisa was just a minor obstacle. A sick, weak girl imposed on him by fate. “She can be gotten rid of without crime,” he thought. Just send her somewhere. To an orphanage, to a nursing home, to some sanatorium… Even to the countryside, to be honest. There she would naturally fall out of the race. Not in his house would she die.
Nina’s funeral was quick. Quiet. Empty. Over the years of illness, all her friends, colleagues, even close relatives had drifted away. Only formalities remained, flowers, nods, and condolences that sounded like scripted phrases from a soap opera. Andrey was grateful for that. He did not want tears, did not want memories. He wanted only one thing—to end it all.
And there, at the funeral, he met her—Liza. Young, alive, with sparkling eyes and a smile that seemed to light up the space. She came alone. Her boyfriend had dropped her off on the roadside without money for a taxi. She was hitchhiking, and he happened to be the one she caught a ride with. They talked a little in the car. Then more. Then they started dating.
Liza was thirty, but her soul was like a girl from a summer romance. Light, carefree, full of dreams and a desire to live. Andrey longed for such a life. He wanted to laugh, to stroll, to hug, to kiss. He wanted to forget the smell of medicines, hospital sheets, oxygen masks. And Liza gradually filled his heart.
Within a month—or less—she was already living in his apartment. And then the nightmare began. Larisa behaved provocatively. She did not leave their sight, did not let them be alone. She sat with them at the table, silent, but her gaze was full of hatred. She was rude to Liza, looked at her defiantly. And at the same time, she herself could not get off the couch without help. “Why do you do this?” Andrey thought, watching her.
One day, tired, Liza declared:
“Either you do something, or I will leave.”
“And what can I do with her?” Andrey asked bitterly.
“Could you… well… get rid of her?” Liza asked quietly, almost whispering.
Andrey was stunned. He looked at her as if she were an alien being. But Liza smiled.
“Relax, I’m joking. Such sacrifices aren’t necessary. But you said Larisa has a house somewhere in the village?”
“Yes, we went there a couple of years ago. She then had nostalgia for her grandmother’s house.”
“And what about that house now?”
“I don’t know. We thought about selling it, then somehow forgot.”
“Will you find the way there?”
“I will. But why do you need that?”
“You’re dumber than I thought,” Liza laughed.
“Speak already if you’ve got something planned.”
“Look,” she began, settling on the couch. “Tell everyone the doctor prescribed Larisa the country air. Hire a caregiver, take her away for a couple of months to the house. And that she will be there alone—let that remain a secret.”
“So you want her to… die there?”
“I’m not saying what I want. But how it will be there—that’s for the heavens to decide. Maybe her mother is waiting for her. Maybe she’s stayed here too long. You know yourself—she’ll never become normal. So why not help her… get free?”
Andrey looked at her. He didn’t expect such insight. This isn’t a crime—just care. Just care for a sick girl.
Three days later, everything was ready.
“Larisa, we’re going to the village,” he announced.
“To the village? Why?” she asked, lying down but sitting up on the bed with effort.
“The doctor said fresh air and sun will help you. They will replace any medicine.”
“Isn’t the doctor’s name by any chance Liza?” Larisa sneered.
Andrey frowned.
“Why are you like that toward her? She wants what’s best for you.”
“Yeah, I thought so… you quickly forgot about mom.”
“That’s none of your business, Larisa. I’m a man, I’m thirty-five, not seventy. Your mother was sick for more than a year.”
Larisa grimaced as if in pain but remained silent.
The grandmother squinted, watching the car.
“Your companion left quickly, didn’t even say goodbye.”
Larisa smirked.
“Why stir up sorrow? He brought me here to die, not for health, as he said.”
The grandmother turned to her:
“To die, you say? We’ll see about that. Not the kind who’d just drop dead around here.”
Larisa looked at her in surprise.
“I need to lie down and rest, I’m very tired.”
“Come on, I’ll see you to your room. While you rest, I’ll prepare something to eat. I even noticed a little store on the way; we should buy groceries. Or maybe that scoundrel didn’t leave you any money?” the grandmother asked.
Larisa shook her head.
“Of course not. Bring me the doll, the old one in the bag on top.”
The grandmother quickly found and brought the toy. Larisa unzipped the doll and handed over a thick stack of bills.
“Here’s enough money to live on.”
“Oh, dear, this will last us at least five years here. Wait a bit; we’ll even plant a garden. Maybe not everything will grow, but something will for sure,” the grandmother replied.
As soon as the grandmother spread a clean blanket on the couch, Larisa immediately fell asleep. She periodically heard pots clanging and the grandmother humming. For some reason, these sounds calmed her rather than frightened or irritated.
When someone called her, she opened her eyes, not immediately realizing where she was. After gathering her senses, she slowly sat up. So it wasn’t a dream after all.
“Larisa, come to the table. You haven’t eaten for a day already.”
She wanted to refuse as usual but suddenly realized she was really hungry. While grandmother Alyona—her name was Alyona—set the table, she talked nonstop.
“You know, Larisa, there are such kind people here; the neighbor even came by. She brought potatoes, treated me to some lard, promised to bring fresh milk in the evening. And she didn’t take a penny.”
Before the grandmother could finish, a young man appeared at the door with a jar of milk in his hands. He looked at Larisa.
“Mom sent the milk. Wanted to ask what time you wake up? Need to mow so as not to wake you in the morning.”
“What’s your name?” asked grandmother Alyona.
“Dimka,” replied the young man.
“Dimka, come in, let’s have dinner and discuss everything,” invited the grandmother.
Almost a month passed.
In the morning, Larisa blushed, looking at herself in the mirror, and grandmother Alyona cheerfully said:
“So, you think—kind of you, kind of not?”
Larisa, studying her reflection, pondered:
“Yes, I look and don’t recognize myself. And my appetite is good. I think I can walk to the lake now without falling from exhaustion.”
The grandmother, putting aside her sewing, smiled:
“Do you know why? The main thing is to drink all my herbal teas and eat everything on the table.”
“I will do everything you say. I don’t want to die…” Larisa cried for the first time since she was brought here. It was strange that before there were no tears—only a smile or silence.
The door flung open and Dimka appeared.
“Larisa, my father bought a new boat, a beautiful one. Let’s go; I’ll take you for a ride on the lake. Why are you crying? Who hurt you, tell me,” he frowned.
Grandmother Alyona quietly smiled:
“Well, you’ve got yourself a protector. He’s still young, only nineteen, but already looks reliable.”
Two years passed.
“Ah, you,” Liza scolded Andrey. “Can’t even sell the house without me?”
Having taken out loans, Andrey realized it would be very difficult to repay them. And he remembered that he had property in the village!
“I forgot the documents for the house aren’t here. Then I remembered that Ninka showed them to me at the house. They’re all there… And if the girl hasn’t been buried, maybe she’s still there?”
“Stop making things up! That grandmother was not in her right mind. Everyone in the village knows that. Should have gone there a long time ago. I think she wouldn’t have lasted a month without help.”
“Eh… Should have left the grandmother a phone to call when God takes Larisa…”
They stopped in front of the house, where paths had been cleared of snow. Liza noticed:
“It doesn’t look abandoned at all. Maybe the villagers took it over and fixed it up? Let’s go take a look.”
As soon as they got out of the car, smoke rose from the chimney.
“Wait, someone’s coming on skis,” Andrey noticed.
Two figures quickly approached on skis—a young man and a girl. As they got closer, the skier girl exclaimed:
“Look who’s here! Daddy with his young lady! What are you doing here?”
Liza’s eyes widened, and Andrey almost fell into a snowdrift.
“Larisa! How? You were supposed to…” he started.
“You’ll manage without me, daddy. In two months I’m eighteen, so pack up with your Liza and get out of our house,” Larisa cut him off.
Liza looked at Andrey confused, then at Larisa and the young man, who didn’t take his heavy gaze off the guests. She muttered to Andrey:
“Let’s go,” and immediately returned to the car.
Andrey stood for a while, shifting from foot to foot, not knowing what to do or say. His plans for the house and money fell apart in an instant. Without finding words, he rushed to the car.
Grandmother Alyona came out on the porch:
“Had a walk? I baked pancakes, a big stack. I thought I heard the car come by.”
Larisa kissed her on the cheek:
“No, probably just your imagination. The wind was blowing. Let’s go eat pancakes, you know how much I love them.”