— So I’m supposed to congratulate your mother on every holiday and buy her expensive gifts, while you can’t even send a message to my mother? Is that it?
— Yegor, don’t forget, it’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow. He waved her off without taking his eyes off the laptop screen, where some graphs and tables were flashing by. The gesture wasn’t so much rude as automatic—like a man shooing away an annoying fly. — Nastya, I remember everything, don’t start. I said I remember. […]
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