Elena stood in front of the mirror, admiring her new dress. The turquoise silk shimmered in the morning sunlight, highlighting the color of her eyes. Today she and her husband Andrey were going to visit his mother, Nina Vasilyevna.
“My beauty,” Andrey said, hugging his wife from behind. “Mom will be delighted.”
“I hope so,” Elena smiled. “You know how nervous I get before meeting your mother.”
“Oh, come on! She adores you!”
And that was true. Nina Vasilyevna really treated her daughter-in-law with special warmth. Maybe even too much.
The mother-in-law’s house greeted them with the scent of fresh baking and the sounds of classical music. Nina Vasilyevna opened the door wearing an elegant homemade dress — as always, perfectly fitting her figure.
“My darlings!” she kissed them both on the cheeks. “Come in, come in! I just took a pie out of the oven.”
The living room smelled of lavender and vanilla. On the table stood a cake decorated with sugar roses that Nina Vasilyevna had made herself. Nearby were new knitted doilies — delicate work, every stitch in place.
“Nina Vasilyevna, your home is so beautiful!” Elena admired, looking around the room.
“Oh, Lenochka, it’s nothing,” the mother-in-law waved modestly. “My hands just ask for work. I can’t sit still.”
Indeed, Nina Vasilyevna’s hands were golden. There wasn’t a single store-bought item in the house — everything was sewn, knitted, or embroidered by her own hands. She even wove the curtains herself on an old loom inherited from her grandmother.
“Mom, what’s this new thing you have?” Andrey asked, pointing at a delicate jewelry box on the dresser.
“Oh, I made it from fabric scraps,” Nina Vasilyevna approached the box and gently stroked its lid. “Such a beautiful fabric — too good to throw away.”
Elena looked closely. The fabric was really lovely — with a small floral pattern. Something familiar about that design…
“Sit down at the table,” Nina Vasilyevna called. “Everything’s cooling off.”
Lunch passed in the usual atmosphere. Nina Vasilyevna asked about work, vacation plans, and health. As always, she was attentive and caring.
“Lenochka, what a beautiful dress you have!” she said while pouring tea. “Where did you buy it?”
“At that boutique on Tverskaya, remember, I told you about it?”
“Oh yes, of course! The color suits you so well. Just like the sea in summer.”
After lunch, as usual, Nina Vasilyevna showed her new handiwork. A stunning knitted jacket, embroidered pillows, a new patchwork quilt.
“Mom, you’re just a wizard,” Andrey admired. “Where do you get so many ideas?”
“Oh, son, I just love creating beauty. The home should be cozy and warm.”
Elena examined her mother-in-law’s work and couldn’t help but admire it. Indeed, the craftsmanship was top-notch. Every item was a work of art.
They returned home in the evening, satisfied and full. Elena hung the dress in the wardrobe, took a shower, and went to bed with a pleasant feeling of a day well spent.
The next morning, getting ready for work, she took out the dress and gasped. There was a hole in the hem the size of a five-ruble coin. Neat, round, as if cut out with scissors.
“Andrey!” she called her husband. “Look at this!”
“What happened?” he came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in hand.
“The dress is ruined! It was fine yesterday!”
Andrey examined the hole and frowned.
“Strange. Maybe it caught on something?”
“On what? I hung it carefully!”
“I don’t know. Maybe moths?”
“What moth makes such perfect holes?”
Elena was genuinely upset. The dress was expensive, her favorite. And most importantly — brand new.
“All right,” she sighed. “What now? What am I supposed to wear to work?”
“Wear something else. Take the dress to a tailor — maybe they can fix it invisibly.”
But the tailor said the hole was too big to mend invisibly. The dress was ruined beyond repair.
A week later they went again to Nina Vasilyevna. This time Elena wore a simple black blouse and skirt — it felt too risky to wear anything expensive.
“Lenochka, you’re dressed so modestly today,” the mother-in-law noticed. “Are you sick?”
“No, just… that dress I wore last time got ruined.”
“Oh, how sad! What happened?”
Elena told her about the hole. Nina Vasilyevna sympathized deeply, shaking her head and lamenting.
“What a misfortune! And the dress was so beautiful!” She paused. “You know what? I have a similar fabric. If you want, I can sew you a new one.”
“No need, Nina Vasilyevna. You already do so much.”
“Oh, nonsense! It’s my pleasure! Just let me take your measurements.”
Nina Vasilyevna took out a measuring tape and began measuring Elena. Her hands were warm and soft, but somehow Elena felt uneasy. As if she was being felt up rather than measured.
“All done,” the mother-in-law said. “Come back in about a week — the dress will be ready.”
That evening, back home, Elena found her new lipstick missing from her purse. Expensive, French, which she had bought just yesterday.
“Strange,” she murmured, searching her bag. “Where could it have gone?”
“What are you looking for?” Andrey asked.
“Lipstick. Bought it yesterday, and now it’s gone.”
“Maybe you left it in the car?”
But the lipstick was not in the car. Nor in the jacket pockets. Just disappeared.
“Probably dropped somewhere,” Elena decided. “Such a pity, it was expensive.”
A week later, they went again to Nina Vasilyevna. She greeted them with the finished dress — an exact copy of the ruined one, only even more beautiful.
“Nina Vasilyevna, this is a miracle!” Elena admired as she tried on the dress. “How did you manage to replicate the design so exactly?”
“Experience, dear. A trained eye.”
The dress fit perfectly, as if sewn just for Elena. Even better than the original.
“Thank you so much! How much do I owe you for the fabric?”
“Oh, nonsense! What money between family! Wear it in good health.”
That day, Elena was especially careful with the new dress. She hung it carefully in the wardrobe, checked that it didn’t catch on anything.
But the next morning, she discovered all the buttons had disappeared. Every single one. Only the holes where the threads had been remained.
“This is no longer an accident,” she said to Andrey. “Someone is deliberately damaging my things.”
“Who? Why?”
“I don’t know. But it can’t be a coincidence.”
Andrey examined the dress and shook his head.
“Really strange. Buttons can’t all fall off at once.”
“Exactly. They were cut off. Neatly, with scissors.”
“But who? Nobody’s been in the house.”
“I don’t know,” Elena thought. “Maybe the housekeeper?”
“Zoya? She’s been working here for five years! Why would she want your buttons?”
“Then who?”
They could not find an explanation. Elena sewed new buttons on, but the unease remained.
Next time she went to Nina Vasilyevna wearing old jeans and a simple t-shirt. Nothing expensive, nothing special.
“You’ve stopped dressing up altogether,” the mother-in-law noted. “You used to be so elegant.”
“Well, I’ve been having trouble with my clothes. First a hole appears, then buttons disappear.”
“Oh, how strange!” Nina Vasilyevna threw up her hands. “Maybe it’s the housekeeper? Sometimes they… you know.”
“Zoya? I don’t think so. She’s very honest.”
“Of course, of course. Just a thought. These things happen.”
After lunch, Nina Vasilyevna showed a new work — an exquisite scarf made of the finest wool.
“How beautiful!” Elena admired. “And the color is so unusual!”
“Yes, I like it too. Such a rare shade.”
Elena looked closely. The color really was unusual — complex, iridescent. Very similar to… to her Hermès scarf that had disappeared a month ago.
“Nina Vasilyevna, where did you buy such yarn?”
“Oh, I don’t remember. Some shop. Why?”
“Just curious. Very beautiful color.”
But doubt crept into Elena’s mind. The color was too similar. And the texture was familiar too.
At home, Elena searched through the entire closet but did not find the scarf. It had definitely gone missing. And Nina Vasilyevna now had a new one, very similar.
“Andrey,” she said to her husband, “where does your mother usually buy yarn?”
“I don’t know. Probably in stores. Why?”
“Just curious. She had a very beautiful scarf today.”
“Mom is an expert. She knows how to pick beautiful things.”
Elena nodded, but her thoughts kept spinning. Too many coincidences.
A month later, earrings went missing. Gold, with pearls, a gift from Andrey for their wedding anniversary. Elena clearly remembered putting them in the jewelry box, but in the morning they were gone.
“Maybe you put them somewhere else?” Andrey suggested.
“No, I always put them in the same place.”
They searched the whole apartment but couldn’t find the earrings.
“We need to file a police report,” Andrey said. “This is theft now.”
“But who could have stolen them? Zoya? I don’t believe it.”
“Then who? Earrings don’t just disappear.”
On the next visit to Nina Vasilyevna, Elena carefully looked around. And noticed a familiar sparkle in the china cabinet.
“Nina Vasilyevna, those are beautiful earrings,” she said casually.
“Earrings?” The mother-in-law looked slightly confused. “Oh, those! Yes, beautiful. Old ones, grandmother’s.”
But Elena saw — those were her earrings. Exactly hers. With a characteristic scratch on one of the pearls.
“Can I take a closer look?”
“Of course, of course.”
Nina Vasilyevna took the earrings out of the cabinet. Elena held them and was finally sure — those were definitely her jewelry.
“Beautiful,” she said, holding back. “Very similar to mine that recently disappeared.”
“Really?” Nina Vasilyevna quickly took the earrings back. “What a coincidence!”
“Yes, remarkable.”
Elena said nothing more, but her decision was final. She had to find out the truth.
The following week, she deliberately “forgot” her phone at her mother-in-law’s. An hour later she returned, pretending to retrieve the forgotten item.
“Oh, Nina Vasilyevna, I forgot my phone!”
“Come in, come in,” came a voice from deep inside the apartment.
Elena stepped into the hallway and froze. The living room door was ajar, and she saw Nina Vasilyevna sitting at the table holding her coat. In her hands were small scissors, and she was carefully cutting off buttons.
“What are you doing?” Elena asked, entering the room.
Nina Vasilyevna startled, quickly hiding the scissors.
“Oh, Lenochka! You scared me!”
“What are you doing with my coat?”
“I… I just wanted to fix a button. It was loose.”
“Fix? You cut it off!”
“No, no! I just… trimmed a thread.”
But Elena already saw several cut buttons on the table. Beautiful, mother-of-pearl, from her coat.
“Nina Vasilyevna, why are you doing this?”
The mother-in-law lowered her eyes, her hands trembling.
“I don’t know, Lenochka. I don’t know what comes over me.”
“Were you ruining my things? Stealing jewelry?”
“I… I didn’t want to. I just… can’t stop.”
Elena sat opposite her mother-in-law.
“Nina Vasilyevna, explain to me. Why?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “When I see your beautiful things, something inside turns over. I want… to take them.”
“But why? You have everything!”
“I do. But it’s not the same. Your things… they are special.”
“Special how?”
Nina Vasilyevna was silent, then quietly said:
“They’re yours. And you… you’re so beautiful, so young. You have everything ahead of you.”
“Nina Vasilyevna, what does that have to do with anything?”
“It means that I’m jealous. Jealous of my daughter-in-law. How shameful!”
Elena didn’t know what to say. She expected anything but such a confession.
“Jealous? Of what?”
“Of everything. Youth, beauty, that you have your whole life ahead. And I… I’m old now, nobody needs me.”
“But you’re an expert! Your hands are golden!”
“My hands…” Nina Vasilyevna looked at her palms. “Yes, my hands are skillful. But what good is it? Andrey is closer to you now than to me.”
“That’s natural! I’m his wife!”
“I know. But before, he told only me about his affairs, consulted only with me. And now…”
“Now he has a family.”
“Yes. And I feel unnecessary.”
Elena began to understand. Nina Vasilyevna was afraid of losing her son, jealous of him and his wife. And that jealousy took a strange form — stealing her daughter-in-law’s things.
“Nina Vasilyevna, what did you do with my things?”
“I repurposed them. Sewed something new from them.”
“And gave them to Andrey?”
“Yes. I told him I made them myself. He was so happy…”
Elena remembered all the gifts Nina Vasilyevna had given her son in recent months. A scarf, a vest, even embroidered handkerchiefs. All sewn from Elena’s clothes.
“Show me your wardrobe,” she asked.
“Why?”
“I want to see what else is there.”
Nina Vasilyevna reluctantly led her to the bedroom and opened the closet. Neatly folded clothes lay on the shelves — among them Elena recognized her own.
The missing Hermès scarf, now half unraveled. From its threads, a hat was knitted for Andrey. Her favorite blouse, cut into pieces — from which pillowcases were sewn. Even underwear, turned into some inexplicable handicrafts.
“My God,” Elena whispered. “So much…”
“I wanted to give it back,” Nina Vasilyevna said. “But it was already remade. I couldn’t give you scraps.”
“And the earrings? Where are my earrings?”
“In the cabinet. I didn’t touch them, just… admired them sometimes.”
Elena took the earrings and put them in her bag. Then she turned to her mother-in-law:
“Nina Vasilyevna, you need help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Psychological. What you’re doing is an illness. Kleptomania.”
“I’m not sick!” Nina Vasilyevna flared up. “I just… couldn’t stop.”
“That’s exactly the illness. When a person can’t control their actions.”
“What now? Will you tell Andrey?”
Elena thought. On the one hand, her husband should know the truth. On the other — it was his mother, and the news could hurt him deeply.
“I don’t know,” she honestly admitted. “I need to think.”
“Please don’t tell him! He’ll be so upset!”
“And I should stay silent? Endure you stealing my things?”
“I won’t do it anymore! I promise!”
“Nina Vasilyevna, you said yourself — you can’t stop.”
“I will! Now that you know, I will!”
Elena shook her head:
“That doesn’t happen. The illness doesn’t just go away.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Get treatment. See a doctor.”
“A psychiatrist? No way!”
“Not a psychiatrist. A psychologist. There are specialists who help people with such problems.”
Nina Vasilyevna was silent, considering the proposal.
“What if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll have to tell Andrey. And maybe go to the police.”
“The police?” The mother-in-law turned pale. “For what?”
“For theft. Technically, you stole my things.”
“But I didn’t sell them! Didn’t profit!”
“That doesn’t matter. Theft is theft.”
Nina Vasilyevna sank into the armchair, covering her face with her hands:
“What have I done… How shameful…”
Elena came closer and put her hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder:
“Nina Vasilyevna, it’s a disease. You’re not to blame for being ill. But you will be if you don’t get help.”
“And will you… will you forgive me?”
“I will. If you seek help.”
“And you won’t tell Andrey?”
“Not yet. But if the stealing happens again…”
“It won’t! I promise!”
“Promises won’t help here. Treatment is necessary.”
Nina Vasilyevna nodded:
“All right. Find me that psychologist.”
Elena found a specialist who worked with people suffering from kleptomania. Dr. Smirnov worked in a private clinic and had good reviews.
“Nina Vasilyevna, I booked you an appointment,” she told her mother-in-law on the phone.
“When?”
“Tomorrow at three o’clock.”
“Will you come with me?”
“If you want.”
“I want to. It’s scary to go alone.”
The next day they went to the doctor together. Dr. Smirnov was a pleasant middle-aged man who spoke calmly and kindly.
“Nina Vasilyevna, tell me, when did you start having trouble controlling the urge to take other people’s things?”
“I’m not sure. About six months ago, maybe.”
“What was happening in your life then?”
“Nothing special. My son got married, no grandchildren yet…”
“So there were changes in the family?”
“Well… yes. Andrey started coming less often. Spending more time with his wife.”
“And how did you feel about that?”
“Hard. We’ve always been very close. And suddenly…”
“Suddenly someone appeared who became more important than you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
The doctor nodded:
“I see. Why did you take your daughter-in-law’s things specifically?”
“I don’t know. When I saw them, something inside clenched. I wanted… to possess them.”
“What did you feel when taking the things?”
“At first — relief. Then — shame.”
“And what did you do with the stolen items?”
“I remade them. Sewed something new and gave it to my son.”
“So through these things, you tried to regain closeness with your son?”
Nina Vasilyevna thought:
“Maybe… yes.”
The doctor explained that kleptomania often develops against the background of stress, depression, or a feeling of loss of control over life. In Nina Vasilyevna’s case, the trigger was the fear of losing her son.
“But I didn’t want to harm Elena,” she said. “I love her.”
“Of course you didn’t want to. But subconsciously, you perceived her as a rival.”
“And what now?”
“Treatment. It will take time, but the illness is curable.”
The doctor prescribed psychotherapy and mild antidepressants. He explained that recovery could take several months.
“The main thing is not to be ashamed to seek help if you feel you’re losing control,” he said.
On the way home, Nina Vasilyevna was silent.
“What are you thinking about?” Elena asked.
“That I’m a fool. Almost destroyed the family because of my stupid fears.”
“You’re not a fool. You’re sick. And sick people get treated, not judged.”
“Elena, will you really forgive me?”
“I already have.”
“But how? I ruined so many of your things!”
“Things aren’t the main thing. The main thing is that you recognized the problem and are ready to solve it.”
“When will we tell Andrey?”
“When you’re ready. No rush.”
Treatment went slowly but surely. Nina Vasilyevna regularly saw the psychologist and took the medicine. Gradually, her kleptomania episodes became less frequent and less intense.
After a month, she herself suggested telling Andrey the truth.
“My son should know,” she said. “I don’t want to lie anymore.”
Andrey took the news hard. At first, he didn’t believe it, then got angry, then upset.
“Mom, how could you?” he asked. “Why?”
“I don’t know, son. I was ill.”
“But you knew what you were doing?”
“Yes. But I couldn’t stop.”
Elena explained the nature of the illness and the treatment to her husband. Gradually, Andrey began to understand.
“The main thing is that mom is getting better,” he said. “And it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Nina Vasilyevna promised.
After six months of treatment, Dr. Smirnov said the crisis was over.
“Nina Vasilyevna, you’re doing very well,” he praised. “You’ve overcome the illness.”
“Completely?”
“Almost. Now the main thing is to avoid stress and come regularly for maintenance sessions.”
“I will.”
Positive changes appeared in her relationship with Elena too. Nina Vasilyevna became more open and stopped being jealous of her son’s wife.
“Lenochka,” she said one day, “I want to give you something.”
“What?”
“A new dress. I’ll sew it especially for you.”
“Nina Vasilyevna, you don’t have to. You already do so much for me.”
“I must. I want to make up for it.”
“The guilt is already forgiven.”
“Not completely. Let me sew the dress. From new fabric that I’ll buy myself.”
Elena agreed. Nina Vasilyevna made her a stunning dress — the best she ever had.
“Thank you,” Elena said, trying on the new dress. “It’s wonderful.”
“Thank you. For your patience, your understanding.”
“For what?”
“For not abandoning me. For helping me recover.”
“We’re family, Nina Vasilyevna. Family doesn’t abandon each other.”
The mother-in-law hugged her daughter-in-law:
“How lucky Andrey was to find you.”
“And I’m lucky with the family,” Elena replied. “Especially with a mother-in-law who truly has golden hands.”
“Golden,” Nina Vasilyevna agreed. “But now they only work for good.”
And that was the truth. No more thefts, no more secrets. Only honesty, love, and understanding.
And Nina Vasilyevna’s hands really remained golden. Only now they created beauty instead of destroying someone else’s happiness.
