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Fifteen people, at least!” Sergey’s loud voice carried from the living room. “Yeah, at our place—why waste money on a restaurant!” Anna froze at the sink. A mountain of unwashed plates loomed before her—the remains of last night’s dinner, which she’d spent three hours cooking. Warm water ran over her hands, and a familiar knot … Read more

Valentina woke up to the sound of the garden gate slamming. Her right arm wouldn’t obey—hung there like it belonged to someone else. Her tongue moved slowly, clumsily in her mouth. It had only been two weeks since the stroke, but each day stretched on forever. The doctors had said recovery would come gradually. The … Read more

Vika came home around nine in the evening. Her mother-in-law’s familiar shoes were in the entryway. The woman exhaled and squared her shoulders—another little performance was about to begin. In the kitchen, Galina Sergeyevna sat at the table drinking tea. Denis was next to her, glued to his phone. “Good evening,” Vika hung her bag … Read more

Alexei listened to the phone, not believing his ears. On the other end of the line his mother, Galina Sergeyevna, was speaking in her usual tone—dry, confident, as if it wasn’t about her son’s future but about buying potatoes at the market. “I’ve changed my mind, Lyosha. I won’t give money for the renovations. Lena … Read more

— “What inheritance?” Pavel asked incredulously when Anya pulled away from him, walked into the living room, and sank onto the sofa. His anger instantly turned into greedy curiosity. “From whom?” “From my cousin-grandmother,” Anya answered, still trying to grasp the news. The bag was still standing in the hallway, a symbol of her interrupted … Read more

— Mom, what’s this? The deed of gift trembles in my hands. Mom freezes at the stove but doesn’t turn around. — What—what? — The apartment is registered to Olya? Fifteen years ago I moved back in with my parents for a month—to help with Dad after his stroke. Olya had just left for Germany … Read more

The air in the room was heavy, saturated with the smells of age, medicine, and something else—sickly sweet, like flowers wilting in a vase. For twenty years I had hated this woman. For twenty years she’d returned the feeling. Our hatred was quiet, domestic, but no less poisonous for that. It lived in the way … Read more

Misha slammed the cold cup of coffee down on the table and clicked the coffee machine button. Five minutes until he had to leave. Their old apartment had become a cramped box to him, every corner a reminder of twenty years of marriage—a marriage he’d decided to end three months ago. “Did you remember the … Read more

— “You got your confirmation? Wonderful. Now take this as well.” Alina set an envelope with the DNA test results on the kitchen table, and beside it a second document—a divorce petition. Her voice was cold and distant, as if she were speaking to a stranger. Artyom looked up from the papers. The numbers blurred … Read more

The air in Valentina Petrovna’s apartment was always saturated with two smells: mothballs and cheap coffee. Today a third was added—the stench of naked, icy hatred. “I don’t understand, Andrei,” my mother-in-law set her cup down hard, and brown liquid sloshed onto the snow-white tablecloth, leaving an ugly stain. “You could have found anyone. An … Read more