«Leave the keys on the table. All three sets,» Nina Pavlovna said.
Vera stood at the stove, holding a wooden spoon over the pot. Broth slowly dripped from it.
«Good evening,» she replied. «Are you starting things off without a greeting again?»
Her mother-in-law placed a large checkered bag on the stool.
«I brought this for you, to pack your things. So you don’t say later there was nothing to use.»
Eight-year-old Polina peeked out from the room.
«Mom, are we going somewhere?»
Vera set the spoon down on a saucer.
«No, sweetie. Finish your drawing. I’ll be there in a minute.»
Nina Pavlovna watched the girl go, then pushed the bag closer to Vera.
«Just don’t turn the child against us. No one is throwing you out. You have an aunt in the area.»
«My aunt has two kids of her own and lives in a one-bedroom apartment.»
«Then you’ll rent a place. Everybody rents.»
Andrey coughed in the hallway.
He had come with his mother but didn’t go past the coat rack. He stood there in his unzipped jacket, fiddling with a car key in his hands.
Vera looked at him.
«Is this both of your idea?»
«Vera, we’re divorced,» he said. «We need to sort things out somehow.»
«Sort out what exactly?»
«Well… the living situation.»
Nina Pavlovna sighed so heavily, as if she was explaining something obvious to a child who couldn’t understand.
«The apartment is Andrey’s. He got it from his father. You lived here while you were his wife. You’re not his wife anymore. It’s simple.»
Vera turned the heat down under the pot.
«And Polina is no longer his daughter?»
«Polina can stay with us,» Andrey replied quickly.
A soft noise came from the room—a dropped box of crayons.
Vera walked into the hallway and closed the door to the child’s room. Only then did she turn to her ex-husband.
«She will live with me. And you won’t talk in front of her anymore about temporarily placing her anywhere else.»
«See!» Nina Pavlovna threw up her hands. «She’s already giving orders. Andrey, do you hear this? They’re setting terms for you, in your own house!»
«Mom, calm down.»
«Why should I calm down? I’m telling the truth.»
Her mother-in-law pulled an envelope from her purse.
«We’ve already prepared the paperwork. If you don’t leave on your own, it’ll go to court. They’ll make it clear who’s in charge here, fast.»
Vera took the envelope.
Suddenly, Andrey stopped fiddling with the key.
«Mom, maybe we should just wait a bit…»
«No,» Nina Pavlovna cut him off. «That’s enough. You’ve given her three months already. We even have a buyer now, but we’re still waiting for her to feel ready.»
Vera looked up.
«What buyer?»
Nina Pavlovna pressed her lips together. Andrey stared at the floor.
«A serious person,» Nina Pavlovna finally said. «Paying in cash. We want everyone to move on peacefully. Andrey can get an apartment closer to me, and the rest will cover living expenses.»
«Living expenses for whom?»
«You worry about your own life.»
Vera looked at the checkered bag, then at the envelope.
«Take this back.»
«I’ll leave the papers. Read them while you still have time.»
«I’m talking about the bag.»
Nina Pavlovna snatched it up from the stool.
«You’ll be asking for it after court. But by then, I won’t be giving you anything.»
After the door closed behind them, Vera stood in the hallway for a while.
Then she went into the child’s room.
Polina was sitting on the carpet, sorting crayons. That’s what she always did when she was nervous.
«Mom, is it true that dad wants to sell our apartment?»
Vera sat down beside her.
«Dad is doing some silly things right now.»
«Are we going to live with Aunt Lyuba?»
«No.»
«Are you sure?»
Vera hugged her daughter tightly.
«I’m already taking care of this. You don’t need to worry about grown-up problems.»
Polina nodded, but she clung to the sleeve of Vera’s house sweater for a long time after.
Andrey got the apartment from his father a year before their wedding.
It was an old three-room place on the fourth floor: creaky parquet floors, a tiny kitchen, a balcony with wooden frames. The bathroom faucet dripped, and dark stains from an old leak marked the ceiling.
Nina Pavlovna liked to repeat that Vera just came into everything ready-made.
Usually while sitting at the new kitchen table, which Vera had bought with her work bonus.
Or while opening the fridge, which Vera had been paying off in installments for half a year.
Or adjusting the curtain in the room where Vera had stripped the old wallpaper herself, while Andrey insisted he was too tired after his shift.
But Vera never thought that her purchases proved she had a right to the home.
The real proof was something else.
It was kept in a folder with documents, between Polina’s birth certificate and an old contract with the kindergarten.
Four years ago, Andrey became seriously ill.
It all started with a fever he ignored. Then came the ambulance, the hospital, surgery, and a long recovery.
Back then, Vera worked at a small bakery. She’d arrive by five in the morning to accept flour deliveries, check invoices, and account for what was left. After her shift, she picked up Polina from daycare, dropped her off with a neighbor, and went to see her husband.
Nina Pavlovna called every day.
She’d ask what the doctors had said.
She’d cry.
She’d give Vera advice on how to better take care of her son.
She rarely came to the hospital herself: too much trouble with her blood pressure, her legs, and the inconvenient bus.
When Andrey finally came home, he still had to steady himself against the walls as he walked.
One day, Vera found him in the kitchen, sitting quietly in front of a cold cup of tea.
«If you hadn’t called the ambulance, I wouldn’t be here,» he said.
She sat down beside him.
«You would. You’d just have needed a longer recovery.»
«You always try to make things less scary.»
A month later, he suggested they put half the apartment in her name.
At first, Vera refused.
«Don’t try to pay me back for this.»
«I’m not paying you back. I want you to have a place of your own. So you never have to be afraid that someone will tell you to leave.»
They visited the notary together. Then they waited for the registration.
In the evening, Andrey laid the documents in front of Vera and said:
«Now everything is as it should be.»
Back then, she believed him—not just because of the paper.
But because she believed him.
It turned out, the paper lasted longer.
The notice arrived two weeks later.
Vera read the lawsuit in the kitchen while Polina slept.
Andrey was asking the court to declare his ex-wife had lost her right to use the apartment and to have her evicted.
An old copy of his ownership document from when he’d inherited the place was attached to the application.
Vera stared at the familiar signature on the bottom for a long time.
Then she called her ex-husband.
«Did you read the lawsuit?»
«Yes.»
«All of it?»
«Vera, please, no interrogations. I was told this is just what needs to be done.»
«Who told you that?»
«Mom found a guy. He handles documents.»
Vera closed her eyes.
«Andrey, you still have a chance to stop this.»
He was silent for a moment.
«Look, I don’t want a big fight. Just leave the apartment. We’ll give you some money to get started.»
«Is that from the money you’ll get when you sell the place?»
«Well, yeah.»
«And you didn’t tell the buyer anything about this either?»
The line went silent.
Then Andrey spoke up:
«I thought we could come to an agreement.»
«About what? That I should give you my half in exchange for paying for a rented room?»
«You never used to be like this.»
Vera glanced at a child’s drawing on the refrigerator. Three stick figures held hands in front of a house with a red roof.
«I never had to defend myself from you before.»
The next day, she scheduled an appointment with a lawyer.
He reviewed the documents, ordered up-to-date information on the apartment, and asked Vera to save all correspondence with her ex-husband.
«Why did he file such a claim in the first place?» he asked.
Vera shrugged.
«He was hoping I’d get scared.»
«Were you scared?»
«Yes.»
The lawyer looked up.
«That’s normal.»
For some reason, those two words made Vera feel lighter than all the reassurances from friends that she was strong and would definitely cope.
She didn’t feel strong.
She hardly slept, forgot to eat, and jumped every time the intercom rang.
But she brought all the necessary documents to the meeting.
And she was on time for the next one too.
A week before the hearing, Nina Pavlovna arranged a viewing of the apartment.
Vera came home from work earlier than usual and found a strange man in a light coat standing in the hallway.
Her mother-in-law stood next to him, showing him something on her phone.
«This is the warmest room,» she was saying. «You could use it as an office. Or a child’s room.»
In Polina’s room, a school backpack and a dress for a performance were lying on the chair.
«This is already a child’s room,» Vera said.
Nina Pavlovna turned around.
«Why are you home so early?»
«Because I live here.»
The man shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
«Sorry. I was told the owner had agreed to the viewing.»
«One of the owners may have agreed,» Vera replied. «No one asked me.»
The potential buyer frowned.
«One of the owners?»
Nina Pavlovna quickly jumped in:
«She’s just registered here. The divorce is tough, she’s nervous. The court will sort it out soon.»
Vera set the grocery bag down on the floor.
«Ask Andrey for a fresh ownership statement before you hand over any money.»
The man looked at her mother-in-law very differently now.
«We’ll be in touch later,» he said, heading for the door.
Nina Pavlovna caught up with him on the landing. For several minutes, her insistent voice echoed from there.
When she returned, she didn’t even bother taking off her shoes.
«Did you ruin everything on purpose?»
«I warned the person.»
«Do you even realize how much of a deposit he was ready to pay?»
«You’ve already counted my share of the money?»
Her mother-in-law laughed.
Short and bitter.
«Your money! My god, listening to you, it sounds like you bought everything in here!»
Vera opened the fridge and put the milk away.
«Talk to your son, Nina Pavlovna. This time, let him answer.»
«I’ll handle my son myself. But after the court, I don’t want to see you in this house again!»
She slammed the door so hard, Polina’s coat swayed on the hook.
Vera walked over and straightened it.
Then she checked the lock.
On the day of the hearing, wet snow was falling.
Nina Pavlovna sat in the courthouse hallway wearing a new burgundy hat. Nearby, Andrey scrolled through his phone, though the screen kept going dark.
Her mother-in-law spotted Vera and smiled.
«Well, are you prepared?»
Vera sat down on the bench across from them.
«Yes.»
«Did you pack your things?»
The lawyer who came with Vera opened his folder.
Nina Pavlovna turned her gaze to him.
«You hired a lawyer? You should’ve saved that money for rent instead.»
Andrey looked up sharply.
«Mom, that’s enough.»
«Enough what? I’m just trying to help her. Going to court costs money.»
Vera didn’t respond.
She stared at her own hands. There was a small burn on her index finger from brushing against a hot tray that morning. A normal work mishap suddenly felt like something stable. She had a job. She had her daughter. She had a life beyond this hallway.
She just needed to get through today.
When they were called into the courtroom, Nina Pavlovna settled in behind her son.
She placed her purse on her lap.
She got ready to listen.
The judge clarified Andrey’s claims.
He stood up.
«I request that my ex-wife be evicted. Our marriage is over, and she refuses to leave voluntarily.»
«Are you fully supporting your claim?»
Andrey hesitated.
A chair creaked behind him.
«Yes,» he said.
Vera’s representative stood up after him.
«We do not agree with these demands. The defendant owns one-half of the disputed apartment. Both the gift agreement and up-to-date ownership records have been submitted to the case files.»
Nina Pavlovna stopped smiling.
First, she looked at Vera.
Then at her son.
Andrey sat completely still.
The judge flipped through the documents.
«Andrey Sergeevich, did you sign a deed of gift for half the apartment with Vera Olegovna?»
«Yes.»
His answer was barely audible.
«The ownership is registered. Are you aware of this?»
«Yes, I am.»
Nina Pavlovna gripped her purse handles tightly.
The judge looked at him over her glasses.
«On what basis are you asking to evict an owner from their own home?»
«We got divorced…»
«Ending the marriage doesn’t end her ownership rights.»
«I thought…» Andrey swallowed. «I planned to resolve the gift agreement separately later.»
«Is that the dispute you’re raising now?»
«No.»
Nina Pavlovna stood up.
«He was sick then! She… she took advantage of him…»
«Are you a party to this case?» the judge asked.
The mother-in-law was taken aback.
«I’m his mother.»
«Please maintain order in the courtroom.»
Nina Pavlovna sat back down.
Now she focused only on Andrey.
Vera recognized that look. Under it, he always started making excuses—even when he’d done nothing wrong.
But today, if he tried to explain, he’d have to say it out loud.
And Andrey stayed silent.
The judge asked a few more questions. Vera’s representative clarified their objections. Andrey had stopped insisting his ex-wife should leave.
The claim was denied.
Vera listened to the decision, not realizing right away that she could finally breathe again.
The lawyer gave her a slight nod.
Only then did she release the handkerchief she had been clutching in her palm the entire hearing.
In the hallway, Nina Pavlovna grabbed her son’s sleeve.
«You gave her half?»
Andrey pulled his arm away.
«Mom, not here.»
«Where?! Outside? At home? When were you going to tell me?»
People by the window turned to look.
Vera buttoned up her coat.
«There she is!» The mother-in-law jabbed her finger at Vera. «So smug. She kept it quiet for four years!»
«I didn’t keep it quiet,» Vera replied. «The documents were at home. Your son knew everything.»
«But I didn’t know!»
«That’s not my issue.»
Nina Pavlovna turned to Andrey.
“You said she meant nothing in this apartment!”
He ran his hand over his face.
“I thought she wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?” Vera asked.
Andrey looked at her.
For the first time all day—he met her gaze directly.
“Take all this to court.”
She was silent for a while.
“You’re the one who filed the lawsuit.”
He looked away.
Nina Pavlovna suddenly spoke in a different voice. Softer, almost businesslike.
“Alright. If it’s come to this, let’s avoid a war. We’ll sell. We’ll split it. But let’s remember, the apartment came from our father. It didn’t just fall from the sky.”
“Send all your proposals to my representative,” Vera said.
“Why bring outsiders into the family?”
Vera fastened the last button.
“Because it was in this family that I was handed a bag for eviction.”
That evening, Andrey came alone.
Vera let him into the hallway. Polina was at a friend’s house—they were making a craft for the school exhibition together.
“Mom is really worried,” he started.
“I noticed.”
“This isn’t how I imagined things would go.”
Vera leaned against the wall.
“How did you imagine it?”
He was quiet.
“I thought you’d go stay with your aunt. Then we’d work out the money later.”
“Do you realize you tried to leave me and Polina without a home today?”
“Not without a home. Just temporarily…”
“Andrey.”
He fell silent.
From the kitchen came the steady ticking of a clock. Vera’s neighbor had given it to her as a housewarming gift. Back then, it all seemed like the start of a good life.
“Why didn’t you tell your mother?” Vera asked.
“She wouldn’t have understood.”
“So you decided to pretend nothing ever happened?”
He sat down on the shoe cabinet.
“She kept saying I needed a new beginning. That nothing would change while you were here.”
“You already had a chance to start over. After the hospital.”
Andrey rubbed his knees with his palms.
“Back then, I really wanted to…”
“I know.”
His face quivered.
He probably expected a rebuke.
A month ago, Vera herself could have found a dozen things to say: about late-night trips, medications, work, sleeplessness.
Now, she didn’t want to.
“I’m not going to take your half,” she said. “But I won’t give up mine. If we’re going to sell, we do it calmly, with a proper valuation. And only when I find a place for me and Polina that actually works for us.”
“What about mom?”
“She doesn’t own part of this apartment.”
He nodded.
He stood up.
Paused by the door.
“Can I call Polina?”
“You can. Just don’t tell her how hard this is for you. She’s a child, Andrey.”
Negotiations dragged on for almost five months.
The first buyer never returned.
Nina Pavlovna tried several more times to set her own price, bring her own realtor, and establish her own payment rules. Vera always responded through her representative.
Over time, her mother-in-law stopped calling.
They sold the apartment closer to autumn.
Vera bought a small two-bedroom near Polina’s school. She had to put in her savings and take out a loan, but her daughter kept the same teacher and her friend from the neighboring building.
The new apartment smelled of paint and cardboard.
That first night, they slept on a mattress in the middle of the room. Boxes were lined up along the walls. Vera hung an old sheet as a temporary curtain over the window.
Polina lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.
“Mom, are we only here for a little while too?”
Vera turned to her.
“No. This time, we’re home.”
The girl thought for a moment.
“Then can we paint the wall by the table yellow?”
“Yes, of course.”
— And what about the hook for the backpack?
— We’ll buy it tomorrow.
Polina scooted closer and almost immediately fell asleep.
A week later, while Vera was unpacking the last box of kitchen odds and ends, Nina Pavlovna called.
— Polina told me you’ve moved.
— Yes.
— And you didn’t even give me your new address.
— Andrey knows it.
Vera heard a sigh on the other end of the line.
— After all this, I might not even visit.
Vera placed a cup on the shelf.
— That’s up to you.
— You used to talk to me differently.
— I used to try to please you.
Her mother-in-law went quiet.
— I wish I could see my granddaughter.
— Andrey is taking her to the park on Saturday. You can go with them.
— So you’re not inviting me to your place?
Vera glanced into the room.
Polina was sitting at the table drawing. Above her, a yellow strip of paint was drying on the wall—the one they’d painted together yesterday. It was a bit crooked, but at exactly the height Polina could reach.
— Not right now, Nina Pavlovna.
After the call, Vera set down her phone and opened the window.
In the yard, someone was calling a child to lunch. A clothespin clinked on the neighbor’s balcony. In the room, colored pencils rustled.
Polina held up her drawing.
— Look, this is our house.
On the paper were two windows, a yellow wall, and two little figures by the door.
— And what’s this? — Vera asked, pointing to a small brown rectangle.
— It’s a doormat. I wrote “Welcome” on it.
Vera smiled.
— It’s beautiful.
Polina grabbed a pencil again, and Vera went to put the kettle on.
The keys to the new apartment were lying on the table.
For the first time, she didn’t feel like putting them away. Now they just stayed wherever it was convenient.
