My husband filed papers behind my back at the public services office—he wanted to quietly register his mom, dad, brother, and sister in MY apartment!
Svetlana loved her apartment almost as much as normal people love their children. But she didn’t have children, so the comparison was actually quite appropriate. The apartment—a two-room place on the fourth floor of a concrete-panel building, bought before her marriage and renovated with the sweat of her parents’ backs and her own mortgage—was her … Read more