Mom is feeling bad! It’s her heart!” my husband was shouting into the phone while my mother-in-law was howling in the locked apartment, the siren screaming over her wails. “Send a patrol,” I replied.
The first thing was the smell. A light, barely noticeable trail of someone else’s perfume — “Red Moscow,” I think. I came home after a 24-hour hospital shift, dreaming only of a hot shower and my own bed. Andrei met me in the hallway, gave me a routine peck on the cheek. “Mom dropped by, […]
Продолжение...