There were four bills in the photo. Mom had spread them out like a fan across the kitchen table so the amounts were easy to see.
The homeowners’ association fee was 11,200 rubles. Another 2,800 was for road repairs. The electricity bill came to 1,340. There was also a tax notice for almost two thousand.
Under the photo, she wrote:
“Please pay these by Friday. Otherwise, they’ll start charging late fees.”
Back in February, Mom had given our country house to my younger sister, Lena.
I Had Always Taken Care of the Country House
The property was old. Six hundred square meters of land, a wooden house with a veranda, and an apple tree growing near the fence. Its branches had been reaching over into the neighbors’ yard for years. Every spring, we promised ourselves we would trim them, and every spring we put it off.
 
After Dad passed away, Mom started going there less and less. Little by little, all the practical responsibilities fell to me.
I paid the annual fees, submitted the electricity meter readings, and found a repairman when the roof started leaking. Every autumn, I shut off the water. Every spring, I opened the house for the season, swept dry leaves off the veranda, and checked whether the walls had become damp over the winter.
Lena came a few times during the summer, usually for a weekend with her children. They grilled meat, picked apples, and sometimes stayed overnight.
I never kept track of who did more. The house belonged to Mom, so I simply believed helping was the right thing to do.
That was why I was surprised when she told me she had decided to transfer ownership.
“I’ve decided to put the property in Lena’s name,” Mom said. “She needs it more. The children should spend their summers outdoors.”
“Why only her?” I asked.
“You already have everything you need. You can manage on your own.”
I had a son too, although he was already grown. Still, I didn’t argue. The property was Mom’s, and she had every right to do whatever she wanted with it.
Even though she had always said the country house would eventually belong to both of us.
The New Locks
Two weeks later, the paperwork was completed.
Lena called me herself. She told me she wanted to get rid of the old sofa, build a small gazebo, and buy a swimming pool for the children.
Then, almost casually, she added:
“We’re going to change the locks too. So if you ever want to come over, let us know beforehand. We’ll be keeping our things there.”
I paused.
“So now I have to ask before I come?”
“Well, yes. Just so we know.”
 
The next day, I brought my set of keys to Mom.
“Why are you giving them back?” she asked, surprised.
“They’re changing the locks anyway.”
Mom looked at me but said nothing. She placed the keys in the drawer near the hallway.
That summer, photos started appearing in the family group chat. There was a new table on the veranda, a children’s pool, and flowers planted in large pots. Later, Lena mentioned that she had hired someone to mow the grass behind the house.
Nobody invited me there.
And I didn’t ask to come.
Somehow, the Bills Were Still My Responsibility
In September, Mom sent me a photograph of several bills.
In the past, she often asked me to pay them through my banking app. She was always having trouble with her phone. Sometimes she forgot her password, sometimes she closed the wrong screen, and sometimes she simply couldn’t figure out what to press.
I would pay, and she would reimburse me in cash.
Not always immediately, but I never made an issue of it.
Except the country house no longer belonged to her.
It belonged to Lena.
So I wrote back:
“Forward the bills to Lena. She can pay them.”
Mom replied almost immediately.
“She doesn’t have much money right now.”
“Then she can pay later.”
“They’ll charge penalties.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
Mom called.
“Is it really so difficult for you to pay them? You’ve always done it.”
“When the property belonged to you.”
“What difference does it make whose name is on the documents? The country house is still for the family.”
I reminded her about the new locks and Lena’s request that I give advance notice before visiting.
Mom became irritated immediately.
 
“Don’t mix two completely different things.”
I told her that I was no longer handling any expenses connected with the property and ended the conversation.
Then I forwarded every photo of the bills to Lena. I also sent her the chairwoman’s phone number and the most recent electricity meter readings I still had saved on my phone.
She replied that evening.
“You could pay them for now. I’ll give you the money back later.”
“Pay them yourself. Everything you need is written on the bills.”
“I’m getting the kids ready for school. I have a lot of expenses right now.”
I read the message and put my phone away.
A Conversation at Mom’s Kitchen Table
The next day, I called the woman who managed the country house association. I only wanted to understand why the bills were still being issued in Mom’s name.
It turned out the association had no idea the ownership had changed.
“Your mother is still listed as the owner in our records,” the chairwoman explained. “The new owner needs to bring the ownership documents and fill out an application. The electricity account needs to be transferred as well.”
 
The tax notice was for the previous year, which meant Mom was responsible for it. The other bills were current expenses connected with the property.
I explained all of this in the family group chat.
Mom replied:
“You could have simply helped instead of turning everything into an accounting investigation.”
Lena reacted to her message with a heart.
That Saturday, Mom invited both of us over for lunch. The bills were lying beside the breadbox.
“Can we finally settle this?” Mom said. “We’ve all fallen out over a little money.”
I placed the tax notice in front of her.
 
“This one is yours. The rest belong to Lena.”
My sister didn’t even pick up the papers.
“The country house was given to me as a gift. I wasn’t given it so I could immediately start paying off debts.”
“These aren’t debts,” I said. “They’re electricity, association fees, and road maintenance.”
“But you always paid them before.”
“Before, I had keys.”
Mom accused me of being jealous of my sister. Then she reminded me that she had every right to give her property to anyone she wanted.
“Of course you did,” I replied. “But in that case, the new owner should receive the bills too.”
Lena turned away and stared out the window.
 
I put on my jacket and left.
The bills stayed on the kitchen table.
A week later, Lena finally went to the association office and transferred the records into her name. Afterward, she asked in the family group chat what day of the month she was supposed to submit the electricity meter readings.
I sent her the chairwoman’s number.
After that, Mom never sent me another bill for the country house.
