Mom, you’re just a pauper!” Pashka shouted, slamming the door of his room.
“Mom, you’re just a pauper!” Pasha shouted, slamming the door of his room. Larisa froze in the hallway, clutching her son’s unironed T-shirt to her chest. His words hit harder than a slap. She leaned against the wall, feeling her knees tremble traitorously. Such scenes had become more frequent lately. “Pash,” she called softly, “let’s […]
Продолжение...