Alina came home after her second shift at the shopping center. Her legs were buzzing, her head pounding with fatigue. Working as a cashier at a grocery store by day and a cleaner in an office building in the evenings drained her to the limit. But Alina saw no faster way to pay off her mortgage.
The apartment greeted her with silence and cool air. The autumn wind rustled outside the windows, tearing the last leaves from the trees in the courtyard. Alina switched on the light in the hall—and froze. A pair of someone else’s boots lay on the floor.
“Who’s here?” Alina called into the emptiness.
“It’s me!” her sister answered from the living room. “Come in, quick!”
Alina walked into the room and saw Svetlana sprawled on the couch as if she were at home. Her sister was flipping through a magazine, not even granting her elder a glance.
“When did you get here? And how did you get in?” Alina set her bag on the chest of drawers.
“Half an hour ago. Remember, you gave me a spare set of keys a year ago? I used those,” Svetlana finally lifted her head. “You look tired. Maybe it’s time to quit one of your jobs?”
Alina took off her jacket and hung it in the closet.
“Why did you come without calling? You could’ve warned me.”
“What for? You’re always home in the evenings,” Svetlana put the magazine aside and sat up straight on the sofa. “I’ve got business with you. Serious business.”
Alina sat in the armchair opposite. From her sister’s tone it was clear—the conversation would be unpleasant.
“I’m listening.”
“Mom’s decided you’re going to take out the apartment loan for me in your name!” Svetlana blurted out, as if announcing something self-evident.
Alina frowned and tilted her head, checking whether she’d heard right.
“Say that again. Slowly.”
“What’s not to understand?” Svetlana shrugged. “I need an apartment, but I don’t have money for the down payment. My credit history isn’t great. The banks keep turning me down. But you’re stable, your salary’s on the books, you can prove solvency. You’ll definitely get approved.”
“And then what?” Alina’s voice grew quieter.
“Then it’s simple. You take out the loan, buy the apartment, and I’ll live in it and make the payments. Totally fair.”
Alina got up from the chair and went to the window. Outside, a fine rain was washing the grime from the asphalt.
“Sveta, are you out of your mind?”
“What’s the big deal?” the sister jumped up from the sofa. “You’re stable! The banks trust you! They wouldn’t approve me anyway—my work isn’t steady, I can’t always provide the paperwork.”
Alina turned to her sister.
“I’ve got my own mortgage hanging over me. Seven more years to pay. I’m not dragging someone else’s debts.”
“That’s not someone else’s!” Svetlana protested. “I’m your real sister! And I’ll pay myself—you won’t have to chip in a penny!”
“You don’t understand. If the loan is in my name, I bear full responsibility. And if you can’t pay, the bank will come after me.”
“Why wouldn’t I pay?” Svetlana rolled her eyes. “Won’t your own flesh and blood help you? Mom’s right—you’ve got an apartment, a stable job, and I’m still renting corners!”
Alina sat back down and studied her sister carefully. Svetlana was twenty-six, but she carried herself like a teenager used to getting what she wanted with tears and tantrums.
“If you want a place, go to the bank yourself and talk to them. It’s your life,” Alina said calmly.
Svetlana froze, blinking. Clearly, she hadn’t expected that answer.
“So you’re refusing me?”
“Exactly.”
“And what will Mom say?” There was a threat in Svetlana’s voice. “You know how she feels about things like this.”
Alina smirked. Valentina Ivanovna did indeed have a talent for making scenes and laying on the guilt.
“She can say whatever she wants. I make the decisions.”
“Alinka, come on,” Svetlana sat on the edge of the sofa and switched to a wheedling tone. “I really don’t have a decent place to live! A room in a communal apartment isn’t a life! What does it cost you? Just sign the papers, that’s all!”
“Just sign?” Alina stood and paced the room. “And then I’ll just be the one answering to the bank? I’ll just lose my apartment if you suddenly decide to stop paying?”
“I won’t change my mind!”
“Svetlana, in the last three years you’ve changed jobs five times. Twice you quit because ‘the bosses are idiots,’ three times you were fired for skipping shifts and being late. What stability are we talking about?”
Her sister shot up from the sofa, her face flushed with anger.
“So you won’t help me? Your own sister?”
“I’ve helped you many times. I gave you money when your paycheck was late. I bought you food when things were really tight. But I’m not taking out a loan in my name for you.”
“That’s different!” Svetlana waved her arms. “Those are trifles! This is serious!”
“A million rubles isn’t a trifle to me,” Alina stepped up close to her. “And your housing problems aren’t my problems.”
“You’ve changed,” Svetlana narrowed her eyes. “You weren’t so stingy before.”
“And you haven’t changed. You’re still used to shifting your problems onto others.”
Svetlana grabbed her purse from the sofa and headed for the door. She stopped and turned back.
“Fine. But know this—Mom will hear about it. And she’ll have a serious talk with you.”
“Can’t wait,” Alina replied.
The door slammed. Alina was left alone in the quiet apartment. Outside, the rain intensified, drumming heavy drops against the glass. Alina sat on the sofa, still warm from her sister’s body, and sighed.
Valentina Ivanovna called the next evening. Alina was just making dinner after her first shift.
“What do you think you’re doing?” her mother started without a greeting. “Svetlana came over in tears! She says you refused to help her!”
“Good evening, Mom,” Alina answered calmly, stirring the soup in the pot. “Yes, I refused.”
“How could you? She’s your sister! Your own blood!”
“Mom, Sveta asked me to take out a loan for a million rubles in my name. That’s not help, that’s madness.”
“What million?” her mother’s voice wavered with confusion. “She said she asked for a small loan for the down payment!”
Alina turned off the stove and sat at the kitchen table.
“Sveta wanted me to take out a mortgage in my name and buy her an apartment. Completely.”
Valentina Ivanovna fell silent.
“Well… maybe she didn’t express herself exactly. But the point is the girl needs a place! And you can help!”
“I can. But I won’t.”
“Alina!” her mother raised her voice. “You have everything! An apartment, a job! And Svetlana is suffering in that communal flat! Don’t you feel sorry for your sister?”
“I do. Just not enough to risk my own home.”
“Who’s talking about risk? Sveta will pay!”
“Mom, and if she doesn’t? Then what?”
“Why wouldn’t she?” her mother protested. “She’s not an idiot!”
Alina stood up and began setting the table.
“In the last year Sveta asked me for money ‘until payday’ three times. She paid me back only once—and that after a fight.”
“Those are trifles! This is serious!”
“For me everything is serious. And my decision is final.”
Her mother spent another ten minutes trying to persuade her daughter, but Alina held her ground. At the end of the conversation, Valentina Ivanovna hung up, threatening to have a “serious talk” in person.
Alina ate dinner and went to her second job. The office building was quiet and empty. Cleaning helped her think—the monotony calmed her nerves. Alina washed floors and pondered family relationships.
Svetlana had always been their mother’s favorite. The younger one, pretty, able to charm and wrangle gifts. Since childhood Alina had been the “responsible” one—helping around the house, looking after her sister, studying without reminders. When they grew up, nothing changed. Sveta partied, cycled through jobs and boyfriends, and Alina “was supposed to understand” and help.
Alina had bought her apartment herself, without help from her parents. She saved for the down payment for two years, denying herself everything. She took a thirty-year mortgage but decided to pay it off early. That’s why she worked two jobs and economized on everything.
And now they expected her to take out another loan—for a sister who had never been known for responsibility.
Alina finished cleaning at half past ten and went home. On the bus she thought about the next day. Her mother would surely show up in the morning—for that “serious talk.” She had to be ready for pressure and emotional blackmail.
Svetlana did complain to their mother that very evening. Alina found out the next day when Valentina Ivanovna called again.
“Sveta’s sobbing!” her mother declared right off. “Says her big sister refused to support her in a hard moment!”
Alina sat in an armchair with a cup of coffee, looking out at the autumn courtyard. The janitor was raking fallen leaves into piles that the wind immediately scattered across the asphalt.
“Mom, what support? Sveta asked me to take out a million-ruble loan.”
“You could have supported your sister!” Valentina Ivanovna persisted. “You know how hard her life is!”
“I have a mortgage. I’m not obligated to take on another loan for someone else’s whims,” Alina answered evenly.
“What whims? The girl needs a roof over her head! A decent roof!”
Alina set her cup on the side table and stood up. Outside, the janitor was losing his battle with the leaves.
“Mom, Sveta has a room in a communal apartment. No one is kicking her out. If she wants better, she can earn it herself.”
“Alina!” her mother’s voice turned sharp. “Family still has to stick together! Help each other!”
“Sticking together doesn’t mean hanging someone else’s debts on one person,” Alina replied firmly.
Silence hung on the other end. Clearly, Valentina Ivanovna hadn’t expected such resistance. Usually a few maternal reproaches were enough to make her daughter agree to anything.
“You’ve become so hard,” her mother finally said. “You used to be more responsive.”
“The requests used to be different. Lending a thousand rubles until payday is one thing. Taking out a million-ruble mortgage is something else entirely.”
“But you wouldn’t be the one paying! Sveta would!”
Alina paced the room. Her mother’s stubbornness was staggering—Valentina Ivanovna seemed deaf to reason.
“And if she doesn’t? Then what, Mom?”
“Why wouldn’t she? Sveta works!”
“In the last three years Sveta’s changed jobs five times. Twice she quit, three times she was fired. What kind of stability is that?”
Again her mother fell silent. The facts stubbornly contradicted rosy hopes for the younger daughter.
“Well… maybe she’ll mend her ways now. Responsibility will appear.”
“Mom, responsibility doesn’t appear by magic. Especially when you know your sister will bail you out if anything.”
“You make it sound like Sveta’s some kind of irresponsible person!”
“Isn’t she?” Alina stopped at the window. “Remember two years ago when she took thirty thousand from me ‘for urgent dental work’? A month later I saw a new handbag she’d bought with that money.”
“That was ages ago!” her mother tried to wave it off.
“Half a year ago she asked for ten thousand ‘for the first month’s rent on a flat.’ She spent it on a vacation in Turkey. She still hasn’t paid it back.”
“Alina, you remember everything! You’re keeping score against your sister!”
“I’m not keeping score. I’m drawing conclusions. And my conclusion is that Sveta doesn’t know how to honor her obligations.”
Valentina Ivanovna sighed heavily.
“Fine. But at least think it over. Maybe there’s some kind of compromise?”
“There already is. Sveta goes to the bank herself and applies for the loan in her own name. If they approve her—great. If they don’t, that means the bankers understand the risks better than the relatives do.”
“And if they don’t approve? What is she supposed to do?”
“What millions of people without rich relatives do. Save up, improve her credit history, find a more stable job.”
Her mother spent a few more minutes trying to come up with arguments, but Alina held firm. At the end of the conversation, Valentina Ivanovna said wearily:
“All right. But I really hope you’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t,” Alina replied curtly.
A few days of quiet passed after the talk with her mother. Alina worked, came home exhausted, cooked simple meals, and went to bed. Thoughts of the family conflict gradually receded into the background.
On Friday evening Svetlana called. Her sister’s voice sounded pointedly casual.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Fine,” Alina answered, surprised by the sudden politeness. “How are you?”
“Also fine. Listen, I’ve been thinking… Maybe you’re right about the loan.”
Alina put down the book she’d been reading before bed.
“In what sense?”
“Well… it’s really a big responsibility. And there are risks. I probably rushed things with my proposal.”
“Sveta, are you serious?”
“Serious. I’ve decided it’s better to stay in the communal place for now. I’ll save money, find a stable job. Then I’ll go to the bank myself.”
Alina frowned. Such abrupt mood swings were rare for her younger sister and usually meant something.
“What does Mom say?”
“Mom… Well, she was upset at first. But then she agreed there’s no need to hurry.”
“I see.”
“Alin, I’m not mad at you,” Svetlana added. “I was just a little disappointed. But now I understand—you did the right thing.”
After the call, Alina couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. Her sister’s sudden compliance seemed suspicious. Svetlana never gave up that easily, especially when it came to money or housing.
The answer came by itself the next morning. Svetlana posted a photo in the family chat—keys to a new apartment in the hands of a pleased young man.
“Meet my fiancé Andrey! He proposed yesterday and gave me an apartment! Wedding in two months!”
Under the photo were her mother’s exclamations of delight and congratulations. Alina smirked. So that’s why her sister had stopped pushing for the loan. Another source had appeared to solve the housing issue.
Alina wrote a brief congratulations and put her phone away. The loan story had resolved itself, but the lesson remained. For the first time in many years, Alina had clearly set boundaries and didn’t give in to family pressure.
On Sunday morning, Valentina Ivanovna called.
“Did you see Sveta’s news?” her mother’s voice sounded guilty. “Turns out we were wrong to pressure you. Everything worked out for the girl on its own.”
“Yes, I saw,” Alina replied calmly.
“You’re not angry with us, are you?”
Alina thought. She really wasn’t angry. More like relieved—the conflict had been settled without serious consequences for family relations.
“I’m not. But I want you to understand—going forward, I’ll cut off any conversations about money and loans right away. My resources are for my life and my apartment.”
“I understand,” her mother said quietly. “Sorry for pressuring you. I just wanted to help the younger one.”
“You can help in different ways. But not at someone else’s expense.”
After the call, Alina sat down at the kitchen table with a calculator and her mortgage documents. At her current pace of extra payments, the loan would be closed in four years instead of seven. A bit more economizing—and the term would shrink to three.
Outside, the autumn wind bent the trees, but the apartment was warm and calm. Alina opened her laptop and began mapping out additional mortgage payments. The family conflict had taught her something important—you have to defend your boundaries, even if it upsets your loved ones.
Svetlana’s fiancé turned out to own a construction company. They had a lavish wedding, bought an apartment in a new development, and a year later the young couple had a son. Alina became an aunt and regularly visited with gifts.
Her relationship with her sister improved, but changed. Svetlana stopped asking for money, and Alina stopped feeling obliged to solve other people’s financial problems.
Valentina Ivanovna learned her own lesson as well. She no longer tried to force her elder daughter to help the younger and stopped comparing the girls to each other.
Alina paid off her mortgage early—after three years and two months. On the day of the final payment, she bought a bottle of champagne and celebrated alone. The apartment now belonged only to her, free of encumbrances and debt.
That autumn clash with her sister and mother became a turning point. Alina realized that to live in peace, you have to be able to say “no” even to the closest people—especially when it comes to serious financial commitments.
A family should support one another, but support doesn’t mean sacrificing your own well-being for someone else’s wishes. Every person is responsible for their own decisions and their consequences.
