Larisa was standing in the hallway of her apartment, unpacking grocery bags, when the doorbell rang. She wiped her hands on a towel and went to answer, assuming it was a courier bringing her husband’s order. But on the doorstep stood Dmitry himself—and beside him, his mother, Valentina Ivanovna. Her mother-in-law was holding a large … Read more
Svetlana stood in the kitchen, arranging sliced meats and cheeses on a large platter. The clock showed 8:30 p.m. on December 31. The table was already set—salads in cut-glass bowls, the main dish warming in the oven, champagne flutes lined up in a neat row. Everything was ready for the holiday. And yet, for some … Read more
Alina stood in the kitchen, watching unfamiliar hands rummage through her jars of grains. Her mother-in-law, Valentina Ivanovna, pulled out a bag of buckwheat, turned it over in her palms, then set it back with a displeased look. “What kind of buckwheat is this? Proper groats should be lighter. This one’s obviously old. Tomorrow I’ll … Read more
Victoria left the office at exactly six, but felt no joy about the workday ending. An hour on public transport waited ahead, and after that—a predictable blowup at home. Igor had returned from his shift work yesterday, and she knew he’d be standing in the doorway to meet her. They’d married seven years earlier, back … Read more
Alevtina was washing the dishes after dinner when Arseny picked yet another fight. He stood by the refrigerator, a utilities receipt clenched in his hand. “Prices went up again!” he snapped, shaking the paper. “And who’s supposed to pay for this? Me—like always!” Alevtina dried her hands on a towel and turned to her husband. … Read more
Sveta had just pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven when the doorbell rang—sharp and relentless. She grimaced. She already knew that ring by heart. Through the peephole she spotted a familiar silhouette in a dark navy coat with a fur collar. Alevtina Sergeyevna stood there, gently rocking on her heels, her face … Read more
The doorbell rang with the kind of brazen insistence you usually get from debt collectors—or from relatives who’ve decided to “do you a favor” at maximum volume. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Well, technically I was waiting for a pizza delivery, but pizza couriers don’t try to rip the doorbell off the wall. They’re generally polite … Read more
Anna Stepanovna sat in the back seat, staring out the window. Her son, Vladislav, had been driving her out of town for nearly three hours. His wife, Oksana, stayed behind and didn’t even come out to see her off. But then again—what was there to say goodbye to? “Mom, you get it,” Vladislav said, keeping … Read more
Alina was driving through the city, glancing at the clock. It was already close to six—traffic on the bridge would start any minute, and she’d be stuck for at least half an hour. But her sister had promised to give her the apartment documents. She needed to submit them to the bank the next day … Read more
Oksana Borisovna strode into my hallway not like a guest, but like a court bailiff who’d already listed my belongings and sold my couch in her imagination. Behind her—like a trailer hooked to an overloaded truck—scurried my sister-in-law Natasha, chewing gum so fiercely it was as if she were grinding up someone else’s destiny. “You … Read more