Olga was washing the dinner dishes when the doorbell rang. It was just before nine in the evening—late for visitors. Her husband, Pavel, was in the living room with his laptop, finishing up a project.
“Open it, please,” she asked, drying her hands on a towel.
Pavel reluctantly got up. A minute later, loud voices came from the hallway. Olga peeked out of the kitchen and froze. In the corridor stood Alina, Pavel’s sister, with two huge suitcases. Her husband, Viktor, was beside her with boxes in his arms, and their five-year-old son Styopa fidgeted at their feet.
“Surprise!” Alina announced cheerfully, tugging off her coat. “We’re moving into your apartment—free up the second room!”
Olga felt the ground slip from under her. In the morning, the new owners of the apartment were due to arrive—the place had been sold a month ago, and today was the last day. Their things were already packed, the train tickets to Krasnodar bought. Pavel had a job waiting there and they had rented a place.
“Alina, what do you mean, you’re moving in?” Pavel stood there, pale as a sheet.
“What do you think I mean? We were kicked out of our rental—the owner decided to sell. And here you are, my own brother, with a two-room apartment downtown. Of course we’re coming to you!”
Viktor squeezed past everyone with the boxes.
“Where should I put these? It’s Styopa’s stuff—mostly toys.”
“Hold on,” Olga finally found her voice. “You can’t just up and move in like that. You should at least have called, given us a heads-up…”
“Why?” Alina walked into the living room and took in the surroundings. “We’re family. Pasha would never refuse his sister. Right, little brother?”
Pavel glanced at his wife. Panic flickered in his eyes.
“Alina, sit down. We need to talk.”
“We’ll talk later. Styopa’s tired; he needs to go to bed. Where’s the second room?”
She headed down the hallway and opened the bedroom door, where packed boxes were stacked.
“Oh, you’re doing renovations? No problem, we’ll be careful. We’ll just move the boxes against the wall.”
“That’s not renovations,” Pavel said quietly.
“Then what is it?”
Olga took a deep breath. They’d have to tell the truth.
“We sold the apartment. The new owners are coming tomorrow morning.”
The silence was deafening. Alina slowly turned to her brother, her face blank with incomprehension.
“Sold it? When? Why didn’t I know?”
“We closed the deal a month ago. We’re moving to Krasnodar—Pavel got a good offer there.”
“And you kept quiet?” Alina’s voice started to rise. “I’m your sister! Your only relative! And you sell the apartment without telling me?”
“We wanted to tell you once everything was settled…”
“Settled? And what now? Are we supposed to sleep on the street?”
Frightened by the shouting, Styopa clung to his father. Viktor shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
“Maybe you could spend the night at a hotel?” Olga suggested. “We’ll pay.”
“A hotel?” Alina sat on a chair in the hallway. “All our money went toward the move. We thought we’d stay with you until we found a new place.”
Pavel rubbed his face with his hand. His sister had always been unpredictable, but this he hadn’t expected.
“Alina, why didn’t you call? We would have explained the situation, helped in some other way.”
“I wanted to surprise you. Thought you’d be happy.”
An awkward silence settled over the apartment. Olga went to the kitchen to put the kettle on—something had to be done to defuse the tension.
“So what now?” Viktor finally spoke up. “Where are we supposed to go?”
“Let’s discuss this calmly,” Pavel said, sitting down next to his sister. “First, you’ll spend the night here. We’ll make up beds in the living room.”
“And tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow we’ll find a solution. Maybe you can rent a place short-term.”
“With what money?” Alina pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. “Viktor’s been out of work for three months. I’m home with Styopa. We’re barely scraping by.”
Olga came back with tea, set the cups on the coffee table, and sat in the armchair opposite.
“Alina, I understand this is hard. But you need to understand us, too. The apartment’s sold; the papers are signed. We can’t cancel the deal.”
“What if you ask the buyers to wait a few days?”
“They’re from another city and are coming especially tomorrow. They’ve got tickets and a hotel. And the contract has a penalty clause—five hundred thousand rubles.”
Alina covered her face with her hands.
“My God, what are we going to do?”
Styopa came up to his mother and hugged her legs.
“Mommy, don’t cry. Are we going home?”
“We don’t have a home, sweetheart.”
Olga’s heart tightened. The child wasn’t to blame for his parents’ carelessness. She looked at her husband—he sat staring at the floor.
“You know what,” she said decisively. “Let’s get some rest tonight, and in the morning we’ll figure something out. We’ll put Styopa to bed in the bedroom, and you two can take the living room. Would you like some dinner?”
“We ate on the road,” Viktor muttered.
The next hour passed in a flurry. They made up the beds, tucked in Styopa, and unpacked the most necessary things from the suitcases. Alina kept quiet, only sniffling now and then.
Once everyone had lain down, Olga and Pavel shut themselves in the kitchen.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. The buyers will be here at nine a.m. The apartment needs to be empty.”
“But where will they go?”
“We’ll think of something. Maybe we really should pay for a hotel for a couple of days.”
“Pasha, we’re short on money ourselves—train tickets, first month’s rent in Krasnodar, the move.”
Pavel cradled his head in his hands.
“I know. But she’s my sister. I can’t just throw her out on the street with a kid.”
Olga hugged her husband.
“We’ll find a way. We always do.”
No one slept properly that night. Olga heard Alina pacing in the living room, whispering with Viktor. She dozed toward morning, only to be jolted awake by the seven o’clock alarm.
Alina was already in the kitchen, her eyes red from crying.
“Olya, forgive us. We didn’t know. Pashka’s always been secretive, but this…”
“Alina, he’s not secretive. The decision was spur-of-the-moment; it all happened fast.”
“I called Viktor’s mom. She lives in the Moscow region. She says we can stay with her until we find something. But I don’t know how to get there. We only have enough for a commuter train.”
Olga thought for a moment. They had enough left for a taxi to the station—they could share that.
“We’ll help with the trip. And we’ll get your things there.”
“Really? Olya, you’re a gem!”
Pavel came out of the bathroom and saw his sister.
“How’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t. Pash, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I’m always barging in with my problems.”
“Alright, it’s done. What did you decide?”
Olga told him about Viktor’s mother. Pavel nodded.
“Good. Let’s get moving. The buyers will be here soon.”
The next hour was frantic. They loaded Alina’s things back into the suitcases, woke Styopa, gathered the scattered toys. Viktor called a taxi—actually, two taxis, because everything wouldn’t fit into one.
At eight forty-five, the apartment was empty. Olga took one last walk through the rooms. They had lived there seven years, done their first renovation there, celebrated every holiday there. It was sad to leave, but a new life was waiting.
Downstairs by the entrance, they said quick goodbyes. Alina hugged her brother.
“Pash, I’m sorry again. And good luck in Krasnodar. Maybe it really will be better.”
“It will be. Hang in there. You’ll find work and get back on your feet.”
“Viktor’s getting hired at a factory. They’re taking him, it seems. The pay’s small, but it’s something.”
Styopa waved from the taxi window. The cars pulled away and disappeared around the corner.
Olga and Pavel were left alone with their suitcases. Fifteen minutes later a pricey foreign car pulled up—the buyers. A young couple, they smiled as soon as they saw the sellers.
“Hello! We’re a bit early; hope that’s alright?”
“No, it’s fine. The apartment’s ready to hand over.”
They went upstairs and walked through the rooms. The buyers were pleased—everything was clean, no damage anywhere. They signed the acceptance certificate and exchanged keys.
“Wishing you happiness in your new home,” Olga said, handing over the keys.
“Thank you! And best of luck to you!”
They rode to the station in silence. Pavel held his wife’s hand; both were lost in thought. Ahead lay a twelve-hour journey, a new city, a new life—frightening and exciting all at once.
“You know,” Olga said as the train started moving, “maybe this is a sign—that we’re doing the right thing by leaving. If Alina had come earlier, we might have hesitated.”
“Maybe. I still feel sorry for her. With a child, and no money.”
“They’ll manage. Alina’s a fighter; she won’t be lost.”
Suburban Moscow landscapes flickered past the window. Moscow was receding—along with its problems, its bustle, its relatives. Ahead lay the sea, a new job, new opportunities.
Pavel’s phone chimed. A message from Alina: “We got there fine. My mother-in-law took us in. She promised to help with a preschool for Styopa. Thank you for everything. Be happy.”
Pavel showed the message to his wife. Olga smiled.
“See? It’s all working out.”
“Yeah. You know, I’m glad we’re leaving. We’ll start with a clean slate.”
“Without surprise visits from relatives?”
“That too,” Pavel smirked.
The train picked up speed, carrying them toward their new life. Behind them were the sold apartment, the hectic morning, Alina’s tears. Ahead was Krasnodar—a city where no one knew them, where they could build a life the way they wanted.
Olga closed her eyes, picturing the sea just twenty minutes from their new home. She imagined walking the promenade with Pavel, meeting the sunrise, making plans. No glancing over their shoulders at relatives, no need to solve other people’s problems.
“What are you thinking about?” her husband asked.
“About how sometimes life nudges you toward the right decisions. We doubted so long whether to leave. Now I’m sure—we should.”
“Because of Alina?”
“Not only. I just realized—you can’t live other people’s problems. Everyone has their own road.”
Pavel nodded. He was thinking the same thing. He loved his sister, but her habit of dropping in like a ton of bricks and demanding immediate help was exhausting. In Krasnodar it would be easier—far away, you can’t show up with suitcases unannounced.
His phone pinged again. A message from the buyers: “Thanks for the apartment! Everything’s great! We already feel at home!”
Olga and Pavel looked at each other and smiled at the same time. The circle had closed. The old life was behind them; the new one was just beginning. And though the morning had been chaotic and they’d had to solve someone else’s problems at the last minute, they’d handled it. Together. And that gave them confidence they would keep handling whatever came next
