I came back from the bank with a new account. And at home I heard my husband and his sister dividing up my money…
The air in the bank branch was cool and sterile. It smelled of money—not in the sense of wealth, but in the sense of paper: new, crisp, soulless. Alla had just put her last signature on the account-opening agreement. Her account. Not a joint one, not a “family” one, but personal—separate. The first in her … Read more