Marina reread the document for the third time, unable to believe her eyes. An official letter from the notary’s office lay on her kitchen table beside a half-finished cup of tea. In dry legal language, the letter stated that her brother Viktor had filed a claim to recover from her half of the amount spent on organizing their mother’s jubilee—a celebration to which Marina hadn’t even been invited.
“Thirty-seven thousand?” she said aloud, staring at the figures. “For a banquet at the Golden Horseshoe restaurant? For a string quartet? For the host’s and photographer’s services?”
Marina grabbed her phone and dialed her brother. Ringing.
“Hello,” Viktor’s calm voice sounded.
“You sent me a bill for a party I didn’t attend?”
“Ah, Marina,” Viktor drawled with feigned surprise. “Got the letter? That’s right. It’s your share of the expenses for Mom’s jubilee. Seventy-five thousand split in half—sounds fair, doesn’t it?”
“Fair?” Marina stood up from the table, unable to sit still. “Viktor, you deliberately scheduled the celebration for the day I was on a business trip! I only found out about the jubilee from photos on social media!”
“Well, we couldn’t rearrange everything around your schedule,” her brother’s voice held a poorly concealed sneer. “Mom wanted it on that exact day. Besides, you know how upset she was about your decision to divorce Sergei. He was a wonderful man, by the way.”
Marina closed her eyes, holding back the words that were bursting out. The divorce from Sergei had been her liberation after five years of humiliation and cheating, yet for some reason the family had taken his side.
“Viktor, listen carefully,” she said, forcing her voice to stay even. “I’m not paying for an event I was deliberately not invited to. That’s absurd.”
“Deliberately?” her brother bristled. “Who do you think you are, accusing me like that? Ungrateful! Mom did so much for you, and you didn’t even come to her jubilee!”
“I was in Khabarovsk for negotiations! You knew about that trip two months in advance!”
“Work is more important than your mother, huh?” Viktor raised his voice. “Your career always comes first. No wonder Sergei ran away from you.”
Marina felt a wave of anger rising inside but forced herself not to take the bait.
“This conversation is over, Viktor. See you in court if you really want to take it that far.”
She hung up before he could reply.
The following weeks turned into an exhausting sequence of calls, messages, and pressure from relatives. Her mother phoned daily, reproaching her for being cold and selfish. Aunt Galina sent long texts about the importance of family ties. Even their cousin Lena, whom they hadn’t spoken to in years, suddenly remembered Marina’s existence and started lecturing her about her duty to her elders.
“Marinka, why are you being so stubborn?” her mother pleaded during yet another call. “Pay Vitya half and we’ll forget about it. He did it for the family—organized such a lovely evening.”
“Mom,” Marina replied patiently. “I would have paid for the entire banquet if I’d been invited. But paying for a celebration I was effectively shut out of is humiliating.”
“No one shut you out! It just happened that way with the dates…”
“Mom, Viktor admitted himself he chose that day on purpose.”
“He made a bad joke. You know his sense of humor.”
Marina knew arguing was pointless. Mother always defended her son, finding excuses for any of his actions. When they were kids and Viktor took her pocket money, Mother said boys needed more. When he broke her favorite porcelain figurine from Grandma, Mother said things weren’t what mattered. When Viktor forged her signature on documents to sell the family’s dacha plot inherited from their grandfather, Mother urged her to forgive and forget.
On the appointed court date, Marina arrived an hour early. She had prepared meticulously: collected all documents proving she’d been on a business trip, printed out her correspondence with her brother in which he acknowledged knowing about it, and even found witnesses among mutual acquaintances.
Viktor showed up five minutes before the hearing, dressed in a suit. Their mother walked beside him in a new dress—Marina recognized the model from a famous brand’s latest collection.
“Marina,” Viktor nodded with a smirk. “Still haven’t changed your mind? You can just hand over the money and we’ll part peacefully.”
She didn’t answer, only walked into the courtroom.
The judge, a middle-aged woman with attentive eyes, listened to both sides. Viktor spoke eloquently about family traditions, the importance of their mother’s milestone, and how Marina had chosen work over family. His lawyer—a young, ambitious attorney—presented invoices from the restaurant, contracts with the musicians and the photographer.
When it was Marina’s turn, she calmly laid out the facts: the business trip was scheduled two months in advance, her brother knew about it, the date was chosen deliberately to exclude her.
“I have evidence,” she said, handing the judge a folder. “Correspondence in which my brother explicitly says, I quote, ‘Better without you—you’ll just ruin everyone’s mood with your principles.’”
Viktor turned pale.
“That’s taken out of context!” he blurted.
“I also want to present another document,” Marina continued. “A statement from the Golden Horseshoe restaurant.”
She took out a paper and passed it to the judge.
“According to this document, the banquet for thirty people was not paid for by my brother, but by our mother. The full amount—seventy-five thousand rubles—was transferred from her card a week before the event.”
Silence fell in the room. Mother lowered her eyes, and Viktor opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound.
“So it turns out,” the judge said slowly, “that Mr. Petrov is seeking reimbursement for expenses he in fact did not incur?”
“This is… this is a misunderstanding,” Viktor’s lawyer stammered. “My client later returned the money to his mother in cash…”
“Do you have any documents to confirm that?” the judge asked.
“I… we didn’t think it would be necessary… they’re family…”
Marina produced another document.
“Here is my mother’s bank statement for the past three months. There are no cash deposits in the amount of seventy-five thousand rubles.”
“Where did you get these documents?” Viktor hissed.
“Mother gave me power of attorney for her accounts a year ago when she was in the hospital,” Marina replied evenly. “I helped her pay for treatment. The power of attorney is still valid.”
The judge studied the documents carefully.
“Mr. Petrov, can you explain this discrepancy?”
Viktor sat in silence, fists clenched. His lawyer nervously shuffled papers.
“I request a recess to consult with my client,” the attorney finally said.
“Denied,” the judge cut him off. “The facts speak for themselves. Mr. Petrov, you attempted to recover from your sister money for expenses that were not yours. This is an attempt at fraud.”
“She set me up!” Viktor exploded. “That bitch deliberately—”
“Mr. Petrov, calm down, or I will have you removed from the courtroom,” the judge warned.
But Viktor couldn’t stop.
“She’s always been the favorite! The straight-A student, the clever one! And me? Always in her shadow! Even Granddad left her the bigger part of the inheritance!”
“Viktor, be quiet,” Mother whispered, tugging at his sleeve.
“No, let them all know!” He jerked his arm away. “That saint got Granddad’s apartment in the center, and I got a dump in the sticks! Is that fair?”
“Granddad left you a house with twenty sotkas of land,” Marina said calmly. “You sold it to a developer for three million. My apartment was worth a million and a half at the time of the inheritance.”
“Shut up!”
“Mr. Petrov!” The judge rapped her gavel. “One more word and I’ll call security.”
Viktor was breathing heavily, glaring at his sister with hatred.
“Given the evidence,” the judge continued, “the court dismisses Mr. Petrov’s claim. Furthermore, the case materials will be referred to the prosecutor’s office to consider opening a criminal case for attempted fraud. Court is adjourned.”
As she left the courthouse, Marina felt a strange lightness. Weeks of anxiety and doubt were behind her. She stopped on the steps, lifting her face to the spring sun.
“Marina, wait!”
She turned. Her mother stood a few meters away, looking lost and older.
“Why did you do that to your brother?” her mother’s voice carried hurt. “He meant well…”
“Mom, he tried to trick me. Again.”
“But you could have just paid… You have the money…”
Marina shook her head.
“It’s not about the money, Mom. I’m tired of being the victim of his manipulation—and of your silent approval.”
“I never…”
“Mom, you paid for the banquet and then let Viktor demand the money from me. Did you know about that?”
Mother looked away.
“He said it would teach you to value family…”
“Teach me?” Marina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Mom, I’m thirty-five. I don’t need those lessons.”
“But you drifted away from us after the divorce…”
“I drifted away because you all took the side of a man who cheated on me for three years. Because ‘what people will say’ mattered more to you than my happiness.”
Mother was silent, twisting a handkerchief in her hands.
“Do you know what’s saddest?” Marina went on. “I still love you. And Viktor too, no matter what kind of scoundrel he is. But loving someone doesn’t mean letting them use you.”
She turned and walked to her car without looking back.
Two weeks later, a call came from an unknown number.
“Marina Alexandrovna?” a man’s voice asked. “This is Pavel Sergeyevich Krylov, a prosecutor’s office investigator. I need to talk to you about your brother.”
Her heart skipped.
“Has something happened?”
“The thing is, while reviewing the materials from your court case, we found something interesting. It appears this isn’t your brother’s first attempt to obtain money in this manner.”
“What do you mean?”
“Could you come in tomorrow at ten a.m.? I’ll text you the address. It’s important.”
The next day, Marina sat in the investigator’s office, turning the pages of a thick file. What she saw made her gasp with indignation.
“Three lawsuits over the past two years,” Krylov narrated. “Against a former friend for an alleged unpaid debt—he lost. Against a dacha neighbor for alleged fence damage—lost. Against a former colleague for an allegedly stolen business idea—dismissed at the review stage.”
“I had no idea…”
“Your brother seems to have made a profession of litigation. But here’s what’s interesting—we checked his financial situation. Mr. Petrov is officially listed as a consultant at your mother’s firm, with a salary of fifteen thousand rubles.”
“My mother has a firm?” Marina was surprised.
“LLC ‘Viktoria,’ registered two years ago. Primary activity—consulting services. Over two years, the firm hasn’t conducted a single deal but regularly receives transfers from private individuals.”
“From whom?”
The investigator showed her a list. Marina recognized the names—elderly friends of her mother, distant relatives, neighbors at the dacha.
“The amounts are small,” Krylov continued. “Five to twenty thousand. But regular. The payment memo reads ‘for consultation’ or ‘debt repayment.’”
“My God,” Marina whispered. “Are they scamming pensioners?”
“Looks that way. The scheme is simple—your mother, leveraging their trust, asks for a loan for treatment, renovations, something urgent. The money goes to the company account. Formally it’s payment for services; taxes are paid. But no services are rendered, and the ‘loans’ aren’t repaid.”
“But Mom… she couldn’t…”
“Your mother is elderly. She may not fully understand what’s happening. But your brother, as the company director, knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“What happens next?”
“We’ll continue the investigation. You’ll need to give testimony. And one more thing—among the victims is Zinaida Pavlovna Morozova. Do you know her?”
“Yes, she’s Mom’s childhood friend. They’ve been close for over fifty years.”
“She transferred three hundred thousand rubles to the company account in the past year. That’s all her savings. She sold her dacha to help your mother with an ‘operation.’”
Marina covered her face with her hands. Aunt Zina was the kindest person she knew. A military widow who had worked as a teacher all her life, she lived on a modest pension and saved every penny.
“I’ll pay her back,” Marina said firmly.
“That’s noble, but we need to complete the investigation first. And you should prepare—this will be a high-profile case.”
News of the investigation spread among relatives and acquaintances like wildfire. Marina’s phone blew up with calls, but she didn’t answer. Only in the evening did she bring herself to listen to the voice messages.
“Marina, it’s Aunt Galya. How could you? Your own mother! Come to your senses!”
“Marinka, it’s Lena. Listen, is it really serious? They called me from the prosecutor’s office too…”
“You wretch! You’re destroying the family! You’re no daughter of mine!”—that was her mother’s voice.
The last message was from Viktor: “You’ll regret this. I swear you’ll pay for everything.”
Marina deleted all the messages and blocked the numbers. The apartment was quiet; only the evening city murmured outside. She brewed herself chamomile tea and sat down with her tablet. She needed to find a good lawyer for her mother—despite everything, she couldn’t allow an elderly woman to end up in prison.
An hour later, the doorbell rang. Marina looked through the peephole—Viktor stood on the landing. His face was flushed, his movements jerky—he’d clearly been drinking.
“Open up!” he shouted, pounding on the door. “I know you’re home!”
Marina silently stepped away from the door and dialed the police.
“Open up, you bitch! You ruined everything! Because of you, Mom will go to jail! Because of you, I’ll lose everything!”
The pounding grew louder—he seemed to be kicking the door.
“I’ll get you! Hear me? You’ll dance for me yet!”
Fifteen minutes later the police arrived. They led Viktor away; he yelled threats and curses the whole time. Neighbors peeked out from behind their doors, whispering to each other.
The trial lasted three months. New details surfaced—Viktor had not only coaxed money from their mother’s acquaintances but had also forged several powers of attorney, attempting to sell property belonging to her. Fortunately, the deals fell through because of errors in the documents.
Mother looked crushed throughout the proceedings. She kept insisting she knew nothing, that Viktor told her it was a legitimate business, that she only wanted to help her son get back on his feet after a failed marriage.
“A failed marriage?” the prosecutor repeated. “But according to the records, Mr. Petrov has never been married.”
Mother blinked in confusion.
“But he said… Alisa… They divorced a year ago…”
“There never was any Alisa,” Marina couldn’t help interjecting. “Viktor made it all up to get sympathy and money.”
“Shut up!” Viktor yelled. “You ruined everything! Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!”
The judge called for order, but Viktor was beyond stopping.
“What do you all know! I’ve lived my whole life in this show-off’s shadow! Mom’s darling, Dad’s pride! And me? Loser Vitya who never achieved anything!”
“You chose that path yourself,” Marina said quietly.
“Chose? What choice? Since childhood I was told I was worse than you! That I couldn’t study like you! That my hands were useless!”
“That’s not true, Vitya,” Mother sobbed. “We loved you both the same…”
“The same?” he laughed bitterly. “Tutors for Marina, clubs, trips to competitions! And me? ‘Vitya, don’t waste your time—you won’t manage anyway!’”
Silence hung over the room. Marina looked at her brother and, for the first time, saw not a greedy manipulator but a deeply unhappy man, broken by his own complexes and envy.
“Viktor,” she said. “I never thought you were worse. You built this wall between us yourself.”
“Don’t you dare pity me!” he shouted. “I don’t need your pity!”
The sentence was harsh but fair. Viktor received a three-year suspended sentence for fraud and a large fine. The company was liquidated, and all funds obtained by deceit were to be returned to the victims. Mother was exempted from liability due to her age and health but was ordered to pay compensation.
After court, Marina stepped outside and drew a deep breath. The air seemed especially fresh, the sky especially clear. She took out her phone and saw a message from Aunt Zina: “Thank you, dear. You restored my faith in justice.”
Her mother approached. She looked ten years older; her hair had gone gray, deep shadows lay under her eyes.
“Marina…” she began uncertainly.
“Mom, I’ll help you with the payments,” Marina said. “And I’ll find a good doctor. You need help.”
“That’s not it… I wanted to say… Forgive me. For everything. For not seeing what was obvious. For letting Viktor… For not supporting you when you needed it most.”
Marina hugged her mother. She trembled and burst into tears.
“I’ve lost my son,” she sobbed. “He said he doesn’t want to know me anymore. That I betrayed him by not defending him in court…”
“He’ll come back,” Marina said softly, though she didn’t believe it herself. “He needs time.”
They stood embracing in the middle of a busy street—two women bound by blood and pain, trying to mend a broken family.
A year passed. Marina sat in a small café across from the train station, waiting for a train from St. Petersburg. Two cups stood on the table—her own with green tea and an empty one awaiting her guest.
The door opened, letting in a gust of cold autumn air. A man in a worn jacket entered, a small duffel slung over his shoulder. Marina didn’t recognize her brother at once—Viktor had lost weight, looked gaunt, with gray in his hair.
He stopped uncertainly by her table.
“Thanks for agreeing to meet,” he said quietly.
“Sit,” Marina nodded. “What will you have?”
“Just coffee. Black.”
She placed the order and turned to her brother.
“How are you?”
Viktor gave a crooked smirk.
“As you see. Working as a dockworker. Renting a room in a shared flat. My achievement—six months sober.”
“That’s a good achievement.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not, Viktor. I genuinely think it’s an important step.”
The coffee arrived. Viktor wrapped his hands around the cup, warming his cold fingers.
“I’ve thought a lot this year,” he said, staring into the cup. “About how I ruined everything. How I let envy and resentment run my life. How I became the kind of person I despise.”
Marina stayed silent, letting him speak.
“You know what’s worst?” he went on, still not looking up. “I truly believed I had a right to all of it. To your money, to Mom’s support, to other people’s savings. I believed the world owed me.”
Marina listened quietly. Viktor looked broken, but she didn’t rush to comfort him. There had been too much pain; this story had lasted too long.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he added. “I just wanted to say I understand now. Too late, but I understand.”
He finished his coffee and stood.
“I have to go. My train’s in half an hour.”
Marina nodded.
“Take care, Viktor.”
He left without looking back. Marina watched through the window as he crossed the square, hunched under the weight of his bag and his own mistakes.
Maybe someday they would be a family again. A real family with no lies or manipulation. But that was for the future. For now, she was happy simply living her life, no longer looking over her shoulder at other people’s demands or bearing responsibility for other people’s choices.
Marina paid for the coffee and stepped outside. Ahead lay an ordinary evening, work, meeting a friend, a new book for the night. A simple, honest life she could finally call her own.
