Choose: either me or that beggar!” the mother-in-law declared to her son. She had no idea her business would pass to me tomorrow…
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