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— “Do you know what kind of apartment you’re going to buy them? At least three rooms — you can afford it!” Marina Petrovna slowly set the kettle down on the table, careful not to splash the boiling water, and looked at the woman who was about to become her co-in-law. Valentina Sergeyevna sat sprawled … Read more

“You’re living in my apartment, Lena. So why should I be spending money on groceries too?” Elena stood frozen at the stove, a ladle still in her hand, not immediately grasping what he meant. Empty lunch plates were stacked on the kitchen table; the sink was overflowing with unwashed dishes. The refrigerator door hung slightly … Read more

Nadezhda stood at the window of their rented apartment, watching the rain wash over the dull gray courtyard. For five years, she and Igor had been renting this tiny one-bedroom on the outskirts. Every month, more than half of their combined income went to the landlady—an elderly woman who arrived on the first like clockwork, … Read more

Svetlana set her coffee on the windowsill and stared out at the rain. The drops slid down the glass like tears she refused to let herself cry. October had been especially vile this year—gray, damp, and heavy. Just like her life for the past six months. “Sveta, are you even listening?” Andrey asked, his tone … Read more

“So, like always, we’re hosting at our place. It’s tradition by now.” Diana froze, staring at her phone. The family group chat was exploding—confetti emojis, looping champagne GIFs. Her mother-in-law was already describing in detail which “herring under a fur coat” salad she’d make—bringing only that, naturally. Lyudmila Sergeyevna was asking what vegetarian options there … Read more

Valentina Pavlovna stood in the middle of the young couple’s kitchen with a freshly ironed stack of dish towels in her arms. “I sorted your towels by color — that’s the proper way,” she said, studying her daughter-in-law’s face as if it were a test. She was clearly waiting for fireworks: a fight, hurt feelings, … Read more

Klavdia Petrovna lay there, not breathing. The act had to be perfect. The heavy, cloying reek of camphor and valerian—poured into the pillows by her own hands—now felt less like props and more like something suffocatingly real. She was awkward in this part, but backing out was no longer an option. She had faked it. … Read more

Oleg barged into the entryway long after midnight. He didn’t just smell of the usual—motor oil and metal shavings from his auto shops. Cutting through that ground-in, familiar stink was another scent: sweet, cloying, чужой. Cheap perfume. Svetlana silently raised her eyes from her book. She’d stopped asking where he’d been a long time ago. … Read more

“We’re splitting Mom’s millions!” Yegor scoffed, eyes fixed on the closed living-room door. He and Sveta were in the kitchen. Their mother, Elena Sergeyevna, had shut herself in there with a notary half an hour ago. “Lower your voice,” Sveta hissed, nervously turning her phone over and over. “She’ll hear.” “Let her. Today everything gets … Read more

“You don’t get it, guys! I’m the one feeding this whole city!” Oleg Grebenyuk’s voice—owner of the “GrenkI” bakery chain—thundered through his spacious, high-end kitchen. Andrey, his childhood friend, shifted a heavy glass awkwardly in his hands. Egor and Sergey, his billiards buddies, pretended to study the patterns in the oak tabletop. “Every bun I … Read more