— Alla, it’s me!
Polina’s voice echoed from the hallway, bouncing off the narrow corridor walls. Keys clattered into a ceramic vase — a habitual ritual established by their mother since childhood. She slipped off her shoes and fixed her tousled hair, then headed toward the living room, looking forward to meeting her sister and having hot tea.
But as soon as she stepped into the living room, she stopped abruptly, as if hitting an invisible glass wall. Sitting on the familiar childhood sofa — the very one their parents had bought for her fourteenth birthday — was a completely unfamiliar woman of about fifty, who was looking at her intently, even challengingly. The woman wore a house robe, suggesting she felt more than comfortable here.
— Excuse me, who are you? Polina asked politely but with a hint of bewilderment, glancing around for her sister.
— And who are you? the woman echoed with the same intonation, without moving, continuing to scrutinize Polina.
Polina laughed at the unexpected response but quickly stopped, her face turning cold and guarded:
— Excuse me, but are we going to play childish games of mutual questions? I’ll ask again and I really want a clear answer — who are you and what are you doing in my sister’s apartment?
At that tense moment, a slender sixteen-year-old girl in casual home clothes came out of the bedroom — the very room where she and Alla once slept on a bunk bed. Her dark hair bore faint traces of teenage sleep deprivation.
— Great, another unknown in this mathematical equation, she muttered under her breath, then took a deep breath and shouted loudly: — Borya, where are you? Come out and explain what’s going on here!
— He’s not home, the girl replied calmly, leaning against the doorframe.
Polina slowly turned to her and studied her carefully — from her messy hair to her house slippers:
— Alright. Let’s start with you. What’s your name, girl?
— Lena, the teenager answered shortly.
Polina nodded toward the woman on the sofa, who continued watching impassively:
— And who is she?
— My mother.
Polina slapped her palm on her knee and, despite the tense situation, burst into somewhat hysterical laughter:
— Of course! Let me guess in three tries — you, madam, are Polina Stanislavovna, the mother of my future brother-in-law? Am I right?
— Yes, the woman nodded calmly, showing for the first time in the conversation a trace of emotion — slight satisfaction at finally being recognized. — And you must be the future sister-in-law, Boris’s sister, about whom I have heard so much?
— Elena, the girl corrected softly, — her name is Elena, not Boris. Boris is my brother.
— Ah yes, sorry, Polina Stanislavovna waved her hand. — I sometimes mix things up. Age, you know.
— Wonderful that we finally met, Polina said with barely concealed irony. — But now please explain: what are you doing here? And more importantly, with whose permission?
— And what are you doing here? Polina Stanislavovna returned the question, settling more comfortably on the sofa.
— Damn it! Polina burst out, then immediately apologized: — Sorry for the expression. But honestly, can you answer straightforward questions or will you keep answering questions with questions like in a bad comedy?
— I can, the mother-in-law said calmly but gave no further answer.
Polina turned to Elena in despair:
— Listen, girl, is your mother even capable of speaking coherently and to the point? Or does she have some kind of problem understanding Russian?
Elena looked first at her mother as if seeking support, then back at Polina and unexpectedly asked:
— And who are you anyway? Why should I explain anything to you?
— Who? Maybe a horse in a coat, or more precisely, a mare? Polina mocked sarcastically, feeling her patience finally snap. — Alright, to be brief and to the point: my name is Polina. I am Alla’s biological sister — the very girl who owns this apartment. It turns out she will soon become your sister-in-law. You get the connection now, little sister?
Polina Stanislavovna meanwhile lowered her hand onto the nearby blanket and began slowly smoothing it with her palm — a clearly calming, homely gesture that irritated Polina even more.
— Okay, Polina took a deep breath, preparing for another attempt. — Can I try one more time, already for the third or fourth time? I’m asking you very specifically: what exactly are you doing here?
Finally, the mother-in-law looked up from the blanket, raised her eyes and looked at Polina carefully, even studying her:
— Sitting.
— Thank you very much for this exhaustive explanation, Polina answered bitterly. — I see you are sitting, not standing on your head. But I’m interested in a different question: what are you doing in my sister’s apartment? For what purpose are you here?
— Living, Polina Stanislavovna answered as briefly.
Polina felt a pulse start throbbing in her temples but decided to check her suspicions. She went into the bedroom, quickly glanced around — clearly unfamiliar clothes lay on the bed, an unknown suitcase stood in the corner — then peeked into the bathroom, where she found someone else’s toothbrushes and cosmetics on the shelf. Returning to the living room, she sank heavily into a chair opposite the mother-in-law:
— Now the picture becomes clearer. May I be curious — is my sister Alla aware that you have settled in her home?
— Yes, Polina Stanislavovna answered confidently but then honestly added: — Well… I will definitely tell her tomorrow.
— Brilliant, just brilliant! Polina threw up her hands. — First, you move in and get comfortable, then you plan to present the owner with a fait accompli. And your son, my future brother-in-law, knows about your… um… housing experiments?
— Of course, the mother nodded.
— And don’t you find it a bit strange, even unethical, that you didn’t think to ask the apartment owner for permission before moving in here with all the comforts?
Elena’s voice interrupted, irritation clearly audible:
— Why are you interrogating my mother like a detective? She doesn’t owe you any explanations, by the way!
Polina slowly turned to the girl and looked at her with the expression of a strict teacher:
— You, I understand, go to school?
Elena silently nodded.
— Excellent. Then you must remember school rules: before asking a question or expressing your opinion, you must raise your hand like this, Polina demonstrated the familiar gesture. — So be kind, sit on that stool over there, put your hands on your knees, and be quiet while grown-ups settle important issues.
Elena looked indignantly at her mother, clearly expecting support, but Polina Stanislavovna only shrugged. The girl pouted but obediently sat on the stool and, playing the part of a model student, folded her hands on her knees.
— That’s much better. Good girl. And remember the main rule — be silent when adults are talking, Polina nodded approvingly. — So, dear Polina Stanislavovna, let’s clarify the situation. First, explain how you got here? Who gave you the keys?
— Brother gave the keys! Elena blurted out, forgetting the earlier lesson.
— What did I just tell you? Polina looked at her sternly. — Remember the raised hand?
Elena suddenly remembered and hurriedly raised her hand.
— Too late now, Polina shook her head. — But I got the info. So Boris gave you the apartment keys. Let me emphasize the important fact: Boris himself is not here now, Polina dramatically looked around. — A ghost, as they say.
— But he is your sister’s fiancé, the mother-in-law objected with logic that seemed irrefutable to her.
— Exactly — fiancé. But fiancé is not husband; these are fundamentally different legal statuses. And even a lawful husband, by the way, has no moral or legal right to invite strangers into the apartment without the owner’s knowledge and consent. And the owner here is my sister Alla, not your son.
Polina stood up and walked to the old cabinet, gently stroking its polished surface:
— See this cabinet? Our mother bought it with her first big award — back then she got a cash bonus for winning a professional competition. Mom was so happy! And these bookshelves, she pointed to the massive shelves bending under the weight of volumes, were made by our father. Every weekend, starting from when Alla and I learned to read, we would go as a family to a big bookstore on Nevsky Prospect. Father let each of us choose any book — any! — then we always went to Café Sever. Parents ordered coffee and pastries, and we girls immediately got absorbed in our new books. Father and mother quietly talked about their grown-up affairs, while we traveled through the worlds created by writers.
Polina carefully ran her hand along the spines — there were about one and a half thousand books. Of course, I haven’t read them all, and I don’t need to, she thought, surveying the home library shelves.
Stopping in the middle of the living room, Polina slowly looked around the room. But these are our books, our furniture, our carpet, our wallpaper… even the chandelier is ours, she mentally listed, feeling her irritation peak.
Turning to the mother-in-law who silently watched her from the chair, Polina asked:
— And what here belongs to Boris?
She looked questioningly at the older woman and then answered herself immediately:
— Nothing.
Bitter notes sounded in Polina’s voice:
— My sister pays all the utilities, buys groceries, cleans the house, runs the household…
She turned again to the mother-in-law, her eyes filled with painful bewilderment:
— And what does Boris do?
A heavy pause hung. The mother-in-law lowered her eyes and barely audibly said:
— Nothing.
That word hung in the air like a verdict, confirming all of Polina’s unspoken grievances and disappointments.
— Are you going to fight? the mother-in-law asked mockingly.
Elena suddenly started energetically waving her raised hand, signaling a desperate need to speak.
— Polina, if you want to go to the bathroom — go, Polina said dryly, not even looking at the girl.
Elena jumped up so abruptly the stool nearly fell over:
— No, I don’t want to go to the bathroom! I want you to stop bothering my mother! My brother will soon be your sister’s husband!
— Stop, girl, Polina raised her hand to stop the outburst. — You don’t have the floor. Sit back down. Exactly soon, she continued, ignoring Elena’s protesting look. — But now let’s get back to the main question. What the hell are you doing here, madam?
Polina Stanislavovna raised her head and looked intently at her interlocutor:
— I live here.
— Don’t repeat yourself! Polina sharply interrupted. — Answer my question clearly. And so you understand exactly what I’m asking, I’ll say it syllable by syllable: what are you do-ing here?
The mother-in-law lowered her gaze and was silent for a moment. Then slowly raised her head and replied defiantly:
— I’m not going to report to you. This is my daughter-in-law’s apartment, my son is marrying her in two days and will be her husband. I will live here.
— I’m just stunned by this answer, Polina said.
Elena giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
Polina walked to the doorframe and knocked her knuckles:
— Knock-knock, she said theatrically. — Is there anyone home in your head?
Elena snorted, but Polina Stanislavovna didn’t react to the provocation.
Polina headed for the living room exit but stopped at the threshold and addressed the mother-in-law:
— Let’s do this. I’m going to the store now, I come back, and you’re not here. I pretend I didn’t see you and forget this incident. But if I come back and see you…
Polina was silent for a few seconds, then quietly added:
— You better not find out.
Polina left the building, took her phone out of her pocket, dialed her sister’s number, leaned against the brick wall, and waited for an answer.
— Hello, Alla? It’s me.
— Polina! Hi, how are you? her sister’s voice sounded tense and cheerful.
— Explain to me, please, what’s going on? Polina started without preliminaries.
— Have you already been home? Alla asked cautiously.
— Yes, and I met your mother-in-law. Not very talkative. And by the way, why is your sister-in-law poking around your bedroom?
Alla sighed heavily into the phone:
— I don’t know what to do. I’m already at my limit, and she just sits silently for hours. That’s been two days now.
— What about your Boris? Polina asked, though from her sister’s tone she already guessed the answer.
— Well, he… Alla hesitated.
— I see. Neither fish nor fowl. How did you let this happen?
— I don’t know. I came home, and she was already sitting with a suitcase and two bags. Seems she hasn’t left in two days.
— And Boris gave her the keys?
— No, he brought her himself.
— Even worse, Polina grimly noted.
— I don’t want to fight — she’s my mother-in-law after all.
— Mother-in-law is not mother. But you can talk to your mother. This woman is nobody to you. A stranger. Even if she is your fiancé’s mother. But I’m surprised at this whole situation — how did your Boris manage to bring his mother into your apartment without talking to you? And now, when he sees you’re unhappy and disagree, he does nothing. By the way, I want to ask — does Polina Stanislavovna even have an apartment?
— Yes, a two-room one.
— Then why the hell did she come here?
— She says our apartment is big and in the city center.
— Our? Polina stopped as if rooted to the spot. — Wait. You already consider your apartment theirs?
Alla hesitated:
— But I’ll live there with Boris…
— Sister, living with Boris is one thing. But why can’t I understand why his mother moved in here and why your sister-in-law is hanging around? What do they have to do with this? No matter where her apartment is — she should pack and leave. Or are you afraid to argue with her?
Alla sighed heavily into the phone.
Polina was silent for a while, then said:
— Oh, sister, you were always soft. Do you mind if I talk to your fiancé?
Alla laughed.
— Polina, what’s so funny?
— I remember when you decided to talk to Artur in school. Then we were called to the head teacher.
— He was just slow-witted. But when his dad saw who had beaten him up, he dropped all claims. Well, I’ll talk to your Boris. I promise — he’ll behave.
Alla laughed:
— Talk, but please be polite. After all, he’s my fiancé. I don’t want to be sitting by a hospital bed later.
— I won’t even touch him with a finger.
— With your feet? Alla teased.
— Okay, okay. Got it. Bye. I’ll get in touch later. Don’t show up at home until I say.
Polina hung up and put the phone back in her pocket. Now she had to talk to Boris, and she already guessed what it would be like.
Polina climbed the stairs, took out her keys, and, opening the door, loudly announced from the threshold:
— Knock-knock! Whoever isn’t hiding — it’s not my fault!
From the corridor appeared Boris — a tall guy about twenty-eight with a confused expression.
— Polina! So good you’re here, he smiled widely and tried to hug her.
Polina sharply held out her hand, stopping him:
— No sentiments. Now, young man, come here.
Boris obediently came closer. Polina studied him for a while, then nodded:
— Seems like a normal guy — has hands, legs, a head, even eyes. Now explain how you dared to bring your mother here without your fiancée’s permission?
— Polina, I respect you, but I won’t discuss this with you, Boris answered and turned to leave.
Polina sharply grabbed him by the collar and spun him back:
— Don’t turn your back on me — it’s very dangerous. I’m politely asking you again: what are strangers doing in this apartment? And don’t mumble about kindred souls or that the apartment is in the center. I want a specific answer — why are strangers here?
— To you — strangers. To Alla — no, Boris stubbornly answered.
— You didn’t answer my question.
Polina Stanislavovna, who had been sitting on the sofa all this time, spoke up:
— Girl, what do you think you’re doing? How do you talk to my son?
Polina looked at the mother-in-law in surprise — it seemed to her that while she was at the store, the woman hadn’t moved from her spot. Elena the sister-in-law appeared from the bedroom again.
Polina stepped close to Boris and poked him in the chest with her finger. He instinctively stepped back.
— When my parents died, I promised to take care of my sister. I’m taking care, she said slowly and clearly.
The mother-in-law interrupted:
— Alla is an adult woman, she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need a sister-defender. She’s getting married in two days, will be a wife, and will live with my son. She’s an adult, independent, working…
Polina looked at her with surprise:
— Wow, interesting! Where’s your activation button? Or better — where’s the mute button? I’m not talking to you right now. Put your hands on your knees and be quiet.
— Rude! Elena blurted out.
— Girl, you don’t know me, so sit by your mother and be quiet, Polina calmly replied.
— Polina, stop! Boris intervened. — I will only solve family matters with my Alla.
— With yours? Polina repeated. — Do you consider her your property?
Polina Stanislavovna spoke again:
— Why are you picking at words? You were told — I live here, my son is getting married, Alla will be his wife.
— Did I miss something? Polina slowly said. — When exactly did my sister give you permission to be here?
Without waiting for an answer, Polina went to the kitchen and turned on the kettle. She heard the mother-in-law talking quietly with her son Boris in the room but didn’t rush back.
Polina still couldn’t understand why Boris had dragged his mother here. She understood her sister — Alla was soft, rarely refused people. That’s why a week ago Alla called her, saying she didn’t know what to do. Polina wanted to come to the wedding anyway but had to change tickets to speed up the process.
Now she stood in the kitchen watching the kettle boil. She didn’t rush, thinking about what to do next. It seemed Boris and Polina Stanislavovna were simply trying to wear Alla down.
Finally, the kettle boiled and turned off. Polina put coffee into a cup, added sugar, and stirred. Her thoughts cleared. She wanted to call the police — the easiest way. But she decided to act differently.
As soon as Polina entered the room where the mother-in-law sat, voices quieted. She looked carefully at the three people, standing in the doorway calmly sipping coffee. Boris was the first to lose patience:
— So, what exactly are you doing here?
— Came to my sister’s wedding, Polina answered calmly. — Are you against it?
— No, but don’t set your rules here, Boris started.
— Better be quiet about the rules, Polina interrupted. — I’m still thinking what to do with you.
Polina Stanislavovna spoke up. Finally, she got up — the sofa creaked — and went toward Polina:
— Alla doesn’t obey you anymore. She’s an adult, finished university, has a fiancé, and will be a wife in two days.
— Blah-blah-blah, Polina responded. — Can we say something specific?
— Polina, I really respect you as my future daughter-in-law’s sister, but please don’t interfere, Boris said.
Polina left the room without answering, sat in a chair, threw her legs over the arm, and looked at her phone. No calls from her sister. Finishing her coffee, she slowly went to the kitchen, washed the cup, and put it away.
Polina stood in the kitchen thinking: Lord, what madness is happening in this apartment! She took her phone and dialed her sister’s number.
— Hi, baby, she said when Alla answered. — I’m dealing with your future relatives here. Seems my plan “A” isn’t working. You don’t mind if I move to plan “B”?
Laughter came from the phone.
— Polina, I remember when you went to plan “B” with Vitka, he ended up with a cast.
— I didn’t break anything, Polina answered seriously. — He just ran away and got a dislocation. It’s not my fault. Okay, with your silent consent, I’ll move to the next plan.
Alla wanted to say something but the call went dead.
Meanwhile, Alla stood by the entrance, went in and out several times but returned outside. Her sister asked her not to interfere — if not interfering means not interfering. She loved Boris. Madly, idiotically, painfully. She couldn’t sleep — wanted to howl or maybe dance. She hadn’t figured it out. She definitely loved him.
But when Polina Stanislavovna appeared in her apartment, everything changed abruptly. She tried to talk to her fiancé but he always found excuses — mom is better here, it’s the center, the air is cleaner here, here, here, here. But Boris never asked how she felt about it.
One time Boris mentioned his mother wanted to rent her apartment and split the money — some for herself, some for her son. Then Alla asked herself: what do I get out of this? She found no answer.
She tried talking directly to her mother-in-law but the woman sat like a statue — watched, nodded, but said nothing except “yes” and “no.” Most importantly, she had no intention of moving out.
Alla looked at the phone — it was almost eight pm. She quickly sent a text to her sister: Then I’ll go to the movies. The answer came instantly: Run-run, I’ll try plan “A” again.
Alla smiled. Talking to Boris was useless — he, like his mother, just ignored her. So she turned around and quickly went to the Goodwin shopping center with eight movie theaters.
She didn’t remember what the film was about — something sci-fi, someone came, some horror appeared, someone fought someone, and apparently ours even won. Alla came back home cautiously — plan “B” could be peaceful or not so much. The phrase “not so much” worried her.
It was chilly outside. Alla shrugged and quickened her pace. Approaching the entrance, she looked around — no one. Took her electronic key, pressed the button for the fourth floor elevator. She got out carefully, listened — silence. Then approached the door, took out her keys. After a few seconds, she crossed the threshold, again silence.
— I’m home! Alla loudly announced just in case. No response.
She closed the door, put on her shoes, and entered the dark room.
— Who’s here?
— Don’t shout, came Polina’s quiet voice.
Alla approached and turned on the light. The room looked normal — furniture in place, windows intact, everything perfect. Only the sheets where the mother-in-law slept were gone, just like her suitcase and bags.
— Where are they? Alla asked.
— Polina, I have no idea.
— And he? Alla meant her fiancé Boris.
— Somewhere outside.
Her sister sat down nearby:
— Sorry it turned out like this. I didn’t know what else to do. I talked to Polina Stanislavovna, to Boris, and they seem not to hear me.
— You can’t talk to a virus. No, I’d even call them not a virus but parasites. They get destroyed. What did you see in Boris? He’s like a rag — neither fish nor fowl. Not a man, but…
— I don’t know, but I love him.
— Fool. It’s not too late, come to your senses. They’ll devour you, and you won’t even notice. You take after your mother — just as soft and compliant. You can’t be like that in our world, you understand?
— I understand, but I can’t.
Polina waved her hand:
— I know. How was the movie?
— I don’t know, I think I didn’t even watch it.
— Alright, let’s eat. I found potatoes, made mash, found mushrooms, fried them. And I dug up a good jar — you have tasty ones.
Polina stood and turned to her sister. Alla gasped:
— Oh, what happened to you?
— That was, I think, plan “B,” Polina answered calmly.
Alla got up and approached her sister. Polina’s face had a bruise; a black eye was already visible on her eyebrow. Only then did she notice her sweater was torn on the other side.
— You fought? Alla asked.
— No, no, Polina waved it off. — I had to drag out the sister-in-law by the collar — she kicked like a cat. And Boris… he’s weird. Kept grabbing my breasts and looking under my bra. What a pervert, imagine!
— He did that to you… Alla began.
— Yes, but I felt awkward fighting him. Still your fiancé, wanted to keep him alive — maybe useful later. But with your mother-in-law… sorry, I had to drag her by the hair.
— Damn, you’re crazy! Alla exclaimed. — What do I do now? No, what have you done…
— Stop, sister, look around, Polina interrupted.
Alla looked carefully and shrugged.
— Do you see your mother-in-law or sister-in-law here? Or maybe the fiancé? Polina continued.
— Why did you kick Boris out then? Alla reproached.
— Don’t be offended. Maybe you’ll reconcile, but I couldn’t tolerate such impudence. Honestly, it’s just…
Polina paced the room, then loudly declared:
— Damn, my hands itched to beat them up! If not for you…
She paced again.
— If I hadn’t promised you, I would have…
Alla hugged her sister:
— Calm down, please calm down.
They stood silently for a while. Then Alla quietly said:
— Let’s have dinner. I’m hungry.
— That’s our style! By the way, I saw beer too. Let’s drink, Polina cheered up.
— What language you use! Alla shook her head.
— Alright, I’ll rephrase: drink, get drunk, stuff ourselves, Polina answered seriously.
Alla laughed.
The next day, around ten in the morning, Alla stood before Polina Stanislavovna’s building entrance. She knew Boris would be there — he hadn’t come back all night. The sisters had talked till dawn, not about the fiancé or mother-in-law, but about childhood, missing their parents, dreaming of a trip to the sea, and chatting about nonsense.
Alla spat over her left shoulder and pressed the doorbell. Quick footsteps were heard; the door opened slightly — Elena’s face appeared. Seeing her future sister-in-law, the girl immediately shut the door.
Alla stood for several seconds, then kicked the door. It was immediately opened, and Boris appeared in the doorway.
— Alla, hi, he said grumpily.
— Hi, she answered shortly.
Without asking permission, Alla stepped inside and saw Polina Stanislavovna appearing in the hallway.
— Good afternoon, Alla greeted the mother-in-law.
She muttered something, turned, and went back to her room.
Alla looked at the fiancé:
— Let’s talk.
— You know what happened yesterday? Your sister…
— Shut up, Alla interrupted.
She looked carefully at the man whose lips she kissed passionately, knew every wrinkle, probably counted every eyebrow hair. A strange smile appeared on Alla’s lips.
— Did you hit my sister yesterday? she asked.
Boris looked up at her:
— She started it.
— Did you hit my sister? Alla repeated.
— Yes, I did! So what? You know what she did? She…
Boris didn’t finish. At the same moment, Alla slapped him a loud slap. His body literally flew sideways and hit the wall.
Wow, Alla thought.
The mother-in-law immediately appeared in the corridor. Her eyes, like a furious cat’s, widened — she looked at her son and daughter-in-law, apparently still not understanding what had happened.
— You hit my sister?! You hit her! That’s like hitting me! You fought with me, you… Alla said slowly.
— She started it! And she… Boris yelled.
But again, he didn’t finish. Childhood skills Polina had taught her sister came in handy — Alla turned her palm perpendicular to his face and hit his nose with all her might. Not expecting such a trick, Boris, like in a cheap action movie, flew back, flipped over a chair, and crashed to the floor.
Alla entered the room:
— You seem to not understand how dangerous girls can be when angry. You hit my sister!
She grabbed a laptop from the table and slammed it with all her might into Boris.
Finally, the mother-in-law realized what was happening — her son was simply being beaten. The attacker was a girl weighing only about forty-five kilograms. Compared to Boris, she was twice as light, but despite his weight advantage, Alla was beating up the fiancé.
Polina Stanislavovna screamed and lunged at Alla, but she skillfully kicked a chair toward her. The woman flew over it somehow and crashed to the floor, howling.
Meanwhile, sister-in-law Elena stood aside — she didn’t know whether to laugh, applaud, or join her mother.
Alla shook her hands and turned to her fiancé, who was still lying among the broken furniture. Her voice was calm but every word was clear and harsh:
— You dared to bring your mother into my home, even though I told you many times I’m against it. But you spat on my soul. Your mother spat on my soul. You both mocked me, and now you whine that my sister hurt you?
Boris tried to get up, holding his broken lip:
— Alla, what are you doing?! I…
— You scoundrel! Alla interrupted. — What a petty, vile person you are. I loved you, truly loved you until the moment you said your mother would live with me.
She stepped toward Boris, and he immediately backed away, bumping into an overturned chair.
— Did you really think I would kneel before you? Alla continued without raising her voice. — Yes, I’m not like my sister. She had to become both mother and father to me after our parents died. But I can bite too.
— Alla, calm down! Boris shouted, trying to stand.
— You’re a beast, Alla said contemptuously. — Fighting with my sister… How low, how vile.
Polina Stanislavovna finally got up from the floor, holding her bruised thigh:
— How dare you, you nasty! You’re beating my son!
Alla didn’t even turn toward her. She held the broken laptop — its case was bent, screen cracked, but she didn’t care. She swung and threw it at the wall. Boris dodged, covering his head with his hands.
— I hope you understand there will be no wedding, Alla said calmly. — Go to hell, and don’t come near me again.
Turning around, Alla quickly headed for the exit. Passing sister-in-law, she winked — Elena involuntarily returned the gesture. The mother-in-law finally got to her knees and, clutching the chair, began to stand.
— Wait! What about the wedding? Polina Stanislavovna shouted.
Alla stopped by the door. Hearing the word “wedding,” she laughed loudly and contagiously:
— Yeah, you really are a brilliant family!
With these words, Alla went out onto the landing and calmly closed the door behind her.
A minute later, she was already outside. Alla walked quickly without looking back — she knew Boris would chase her. The entrance door slammed, quick steps sounded behind her. But when Alla saw her sister Polina, the steps immediately stopped. She smiled to herself and said:
— Coward.
Polina approached Alla, took her hand, and looked at the blood:
— I was about to come to your aid.
— It wasn’t difficult. I handled it, Alla replied.
— I see, Polina glanced at Boris, who stood near the entrance wiping his bloody nose. — I hope you didn’t break anything?
Alla didn’t answer. She pressed against her sister and quietly cried.
They walked slowly for about five minutes. Polina let her sister cry — she knew it was necessary. She herself had once been in a similar situation.
Finally, Alla straightened up, squared her shoulders, and confidently addressed her sister:
— Listen, did we have breakfast today?
Polina shook her head.
— Then I’m probably hungry. I want to eat.
— I know a place where we can have a great breakfast, Polina smiled.
The girls laughed so loudly that even Boris, still trailing behind them, heard it. He cursed himself, sometimes Polina, sometimes Alla, who had hit him. Sometimes he mentally went back to his mother — scolding her and everyone else, even his sister, though he didn’t know why, but he scolded.
Meanwhile, Alla and Polina had already disappeared around the corner.
