The key turned in the lock just as Anya was setting cutlets onto plates, and she instantly recognized the sound. Only Galina Petrovna opened the door like that—firmly, with two clicks, even though the lock only needed one. Vitya twitched on his stool but didn’t head for the hallway. Instead, he pulled the bread box closer and began breaking off tiny pieces of crust from a loaf.
«Still sitting around?» Galina Petrovna walked into the kitchen wearing her coat and a bag slung over her arm. «Good, looks like I made it just in time for dinner.»
Anya grabbed a third plate from the cupboard. Her mother-in-law took Anya’s spot by the window, even though there was a free chair right next to it, and set her bag on the windowsill—right on top of the notebook where Anya tracked expenses every evening.
«Mom, you should take your coat off,» Vitya said, eyes fixed on the bread box.
«I won’t be long, I just came about something important.» Galina Petrovna picked up a fork, twisted it around in her fingers, and set it back down. «Anya, on Monday you’re going to the bank to take out a loan for seven hundred thousand. I checked everything out—you’ll get it without a guarantor. Your salary’s official, and you’ve never been late on a payment in your life.»
Anya repeated the amount, thinking she must have misheard. Her mother-in-law said it again, louder and slower, as if talking to a hard-of-hearing neighbor on a park bench.
«What loan? What for?»
«Because Vitya’s overdue on payments and by December he’ll be taken to court.» Galina Petrovna raised her eyebrows and turned to her son. «Vitya, you didn’t tell her?»
Vitya chewed his cutlet without looking up. Anya stared at the top of his head, at the spot where his hair had been thinning for two years now, waiting for him to say something—anything—himself.
«Vitya,» she called. «What overdue payments?»
«Anya, I wanted to handle it myself.» He finally raised his eyes, but he looked past her, focusing on the magnets on the fridge. «I couldn’t do it, you see? Now I need help, that’s all.»
«You need help, and you send your mother to talk to me?»
«I came on my own!» Galina Petrovna slapped her palm on the table so hard the fork bounced and rattled on the plate. «Because if we wait for you to make up your mind, the bailiffs will take everything! Vitya said you finish early on Monday, you’re free after lunch. The bank’s open till seven—you’ll make it just fine.»
Anya slowly set her fork on the edge of her plate. She’d told Vitya about her short Monday just in passing on Wednesday, when she asked him to pick up her coat from the dry cleaners. That meant he’d already known on Wednesday where she’d be going after work, and had quietly taken the claim ticket.
«I’m not taking out a loan,» she said.
«What do you mean you’re not?» Her mother-in-law nearly stood up. «He’s your husband! Are you his wife or what? You’d let him sink over some money?»
«Over seven hundred thousand, Galina Petrovna, which I’m only hearing about for the first time today.»
«All you ever do is stare at your papers! You count and count your whole life while a real person is in trouble right in front of you!»
She jumped up, bumping her bag so it slid off the windowsill along with Anya’s notebook. Galina Petrovna caught the bag mid-air but nudged the notebook under the radiator with the tip of her boot. All the while, Vitya kept breaking off pieces of crust, making a growing pile of crumbs on the oilcloth in front of him.
As soon as their mother left around nine, Vitya locked himself in the bathroom and turned the water on full blast. Anya grabbed her notebook from under the radiator, brushed the dust off the cover, and stood in the hallway by the door. The water ran noisily for about fifteen minutes before Anya simply shoved the door open with her shoulder—the latch was still broken, even though Vitya had promised to fix it back in the spring, right after they sat down together for the first time to figure out the money for the renovations.
«Start talking,» she said. «Everything, from the very beginning.»
Vitya sat on the edge of the bathtub in his socks, holding his phone facedown in his hand. He said the car’s gearbox had gone out first, and the repair shop quoted him two hundred forty thousand. Then, an acquaintance named Sasha offered him a batch of coffee machines at wholesale price. Selling them on Avito with a markup seemed like a month’s work, but half the machines arrived defective, and the rest were still sitting in Sasha’s garage.
«How much in total?» Anya asked.
«Around seven hundred. Maybe a bit more, I didn’t count exactly.»
«You didn’t count? Vitya, you took out loans and didn’t keep track?»
«Why are you so hung up on the numbers? Mom said it was seven hundred.»
«Mom said,» Anya leaned against the doorframe. «We’ve been putting money aside since March for the kitchen and electrical rewiring. The fridge outlet is sparking, and I have to run an extension cord across the kitchen, tripping over it every single morning. Meanwhile, you’re out buying coffee machines?»
«I’ll pay everything back by the end of the year, just cover the overdue bills so they’ll stop bothering me.»
«Show me the contracts, bank statements, and payment schedules. Everything you have.»
Vitya stood up so suddenly that his phone slipped off his lap onto the tile. He picked it up, left the room, and Anya followed because their conversation was far from over.
«You’re talking to me like I’m at a bank!» he yelled, tossing the TV remote onto the couch. It bounced onto the floor and the battery cover popped off. «Am I your husband or a client?! Contracts, she says! That money for the kitchen matters more to you than I do, that’s all! You’re sitting on your savings like a hen on an egg!»
«Until I see the paperwork, we’re not talking about money anymore.»
She grabbed his pillow from the bed, shoved it into his hands along with a blanket, and locked the bedroom door behind her. Vitya paced the room for a long time, muttering to himself, then Anya heard him crawling around looking for a runaway battery.
On Saturday morning, Galina Petrovna called with a steady voice, asking Anya to come over and talk like adults—without Vitya. On her way, Anya stopped by the bakery for a honey cake, because in nine years she had never dared show up at her mother-in-law’s empty handed. On the bus, she held the cake on her knees so it wouldn’t get squished.
Galina Petrovna opened the door in her apron and accepted the cake without a smile. Her kitchen looked exactly the same: a kitten calendar on the fridge, a tiny rose-patterned tablecloth, the radio humming about the weather. The phone sat on the table, and while she was slicing the honey cake, it pinged twice—Nina’s name flashed on the screen.
«I told everything to Nina, Lyuda, and cousin Seryozha,» Galina Petrovna said, not turning around. «Let them know what kind of wife Vitya has. He’s drowning, and she just sits on the money with her hands folded.»
«Galina Petrovna, I don’t have any money. We only have our joint savings for the renovation.»
«Whether it’s yes or no, does it really matter?» Her mother-in-law set a plate with a slice of honey cake in front of her. «I’m making you a fair offer. Let me take out the loan in my name. They’ll give it to me because I have a pension. Vitia will be the one paying it back, so it won’t affect you at all.»
«And with what money is he supposed to pay? From our shared salary?»
«From his own!»
«He can’t cover his current loans with his own money—otherwise he wouldn’t be falling behind on payments.» Anya pushed the plate away. «I’m willing to talk about the family budget. Let Vitia bring out all the documents, every single loan agreement, and we’ll work out together how to pay it off month by month.»
Galina Petrovna straightened up, the knife still in her hand hovering above the cake.
«So you’re going to interrogate my son, like he’s a thief?» Her voice turned high-pitched and thin. «I raised him by myself. In the ’90s, I walked him through three winters with just one pair of shoes, and never once did I ask him questions like that! And who are you to demand reports from him?!»
«I’m his wife, and you’re suggesting I should be the one to pay.»
«Wife!» Galina Petrovna threw the knife into the sink, where it clattered against the metal and bounced onto the drying rack. «If you were really a wife, you wouldn’t keep count! Take your cake!»
She swept up the box with the honey cake and shoved it into Anya’s hands. The lid wouldn’t close, and sweet crumbs spilled onto her jacket sleeve. Anya silently put on her shoes in the hallway, left the box on the shoe cabinet, and walked out. The door didn’t shut completely, and while Anya waited for the elevator, she clearly heard her mother-in-law’s voice:
«Vitenka, your wife’s starting to think a bit too highly of herself. Don’t worry, son, I’ll handle her.»
On Sunday, Vitia left early to go to Sasha’s garage to work on the coffee machines, but on the kitchen table he left the stack of documents he planned to take to the bank on Monday. While Anya was wiping up after breakfast, she moved the stack, and the top sheet slid partly off the edge. It was a printout of his card transactions for the past six months, with a blue bank logo in the corner.
She read it absentmindedly, just as she did with other people’s records at work, until her finger stopped at a line from August 14: a transfer of 180,000 rubles, recipient Galina Petrovna K. Anya read the line three times, then grabbed her phone and pulled up photos from August. In her gallery, she found pictures from the furniture store, where she was standing in front of pastel cream-colored kitchen cabinets, and Vitia had told her they should wait until spring because money was tight.
Vitia came back for lunch, cheerful and chilled, with a bag of tangerines. Anya placed the printout in front of him and pressed her finger to the line.
«What’s this?»
He looked at it, and his smile slid away to one side.
«Mom was holding onto my money so I wouldn’t spend it.»
«Was holding it? And where is it now?»
«Well, I helped her with some renovations,» Vitia said, putting the bag on a stool so the tangerines rolled across the floor. «She needed work on her balcony… Basically, I helped out.»
«What renovations, Vitia?» Anya didn’t even realize when she’d started shouting. «We were standing in front of those cabinets in August! I picked out the color, I’d already given the saleswoman my phone number, and you told me we didn’t have the money! No money, you said! But for your mom’s balcony, suddenly 180,000 isn’t too much?!»
– I don’t owe you an explanation for every penny I give to my mother!
– It’s not about every penny, it’s about our kitchen!
Vitya yanked the printout towards himself, but Anya didn’t let go, and the sheet ripped in half with a loud tear. He cursed, swept the remaining papers off the table, and kicked a stool, which then banged sideways against the oven door. While he searched for his shoes in the hallway, Anya stood in the middle of the kitchen holding half of the torn sheet in her hand—the line about August fourteenth stayed with her.
– You forgot your keys, genius! – she shouted into the stairwell after the door slammed behind him, and threw the keyring down the stairs.
The keys clattered down the steps and stopped on the landing between floors, but Vitya didn’t come back for them. That evening, he buzzed in through the intercom and Anya let him in, and then all evening she could hear him whispering to someone in his room, falling silent whenever she walked down the hallway.
On Monday, Anya deliberately stayed late at work, and when she returned, a familiar pair of high boots was waiting in the hallway. This time, Galina Petrovna rang the doorbell, and it was Vitya who opened up, since she apparently decided not to use her key after Saturday.
Her mother-in-law was sitting at the kitchen table, with printed pages and a ballpoint pen lying diagonally so it could be picked up and signed right away. Vitya stood by the refrigerator, nervously twisting a kitchen towel in his hands. Last night’s vinaigrette bowl was still on the table, and Galina Petrovna pushed it aside with her elbow to make space for the papers.
– Sit down, – she told Anya. – Everything is calculated here. The payment is twenty-one thousand eight hundred per month, for five years. You can handle it, I know your salary. The branch opens at nine tomorrow, go before work.
– How do you know my salary?
– Vitya told me, what difference does it make. – Galina Petrovna tapped the sheet with her pen. – Listen, Anya, he won’t survive if he’s rejected again. His blood pressure is all over the place, he’s not sleeping at night—I can see it. Do you even consider the consequences? Do you care about the family, even a little, or only about your beloved wiring?
– Anya, just for a while, – Vitya stepped away from the fridge. – Just for half a year. I told you, I’ll pay everything back. Is it so hard for you? It’s just a signature!
Anya set her bag on a chair and slipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket, where she had kept half of the torn printout for the past two days. She felt the crease of the paper but didn’t take it out, instead glancing at her mother-in-law, who had a new ring with a green stone sparkling on her finger.
– Your son’s debts are not my responsibility, – Anya said calmly as she pushed the pen to the edge of the table.
Galina Petrovna sat motionless for a while, then took off her glasses, folded the arms, and put them back in their case. She snapped the case shut with such a noise that Vitya flinched by the fridge.
– Fine, – her mother-in-law said very quietly. – So that’s how it is with you. Remember this: you’re nothing to us anymore! Not to me, not to Nina, not to Seryozha—no longer family to any of us!
She stood up, and her voice broke into a shout:
– Vitya, did you hear what she said?! Did you hear?! Give her an ultimatum—today, right now! Either she’s with you, or she can go run off to her accounts!
Galina Petrovna yanked the papers toward her, her hand sliding across the table, sending the salad bowl flying to the floor. Glass shattered into big pieces, with beet juice splashing onto the linoleum and Vitya’s light socks. His mother-in-law didn’t even look down. She walked right through the kitchen, straight across the vinaigrette, silently pulled on her boots in the hallway, and slammed the door so hard that Anya’s hat fell off the coat rack.
Vitya stood there with red stains on his socks, staring at the door. Then he turned to his wife, his face showing confusion and anger all at once.
«What have you done? Go after her before she gets to the bus stop. Apologize. Tell her you lost your temper.»
«I didn’t lose my temper, Vitya. I said everything very calmly.»
«Exactly!» he shouted. «Exactly, you were calm! It would’ve been better if you had shouted!»
Anya took a dustpan and broom from under the sink and knelt down over the shattered glass. Vitya dialed his mother’s number and shoved the phone practically in her face, while the long dialing tones sounded from the speaker. Anya swept the glass, beets, and peas into one pile, never even looking at the phone.
***
On Tuesday at lunchtime, Anya opened the family chat to send Nina a photo of the recipe she’d promised last week. But instead of their usual conversation, she saw a grey message saying Galina Petrovna had removed her from the group. Anya scrolled up and saw the last messages that managed to load before her removal: Nina asking if her sister-in-law had come to her senses yet, and cousin Seryozha sending a laughing emoji.
She sent her mother-in-law a short message offering to talk things through calmly, without Vitya or any shouting. The message got just one grey tick and stayed that way all evening. An hour later, Anya called, but after the third ring, the call was rejected, and on her next attempt, a robotic voice said the subscriber was unavailable.
That evening, Vitya came home earlier than usual, sat down on the stool still in his jacket, and handed her his phone.
«Here, read this,» he said. «My mom wrote me this at lunchtime.»
Galina Petrovna’s message was long, written with no commas and three exclamation marks at the end of every sentence. She said she never wanted to see her daughter-in-law again—not at New Year, her birthday in February, or even at Nina’s birthday. In a separate line, she wrote that Vitya was welcome anytime, but alone, and if he brought his wife, she wouldn’t open the door.
«Call her, Anya,» Vitya took back the phone and handed it to her again, this time with the contact dialed. «Come on, say something to her. I can’t take it, running between you two—she calls me three times a day crying.»
«I have nothing to apologize for, Vitya. I just refused to take out a loan, that’s all.»
«That’s all?» He stood up. «To you it’s nothing, but my mom’s lying down with high blood pressure!»
Anya pulled out her notebook from the desk, opened to a blank page, and drew three columns with her pen. At the top, she wrote: debt, payment, term, and then pushed the notebook toward her husband.
«Let’s sit down and work this out together. Each loan separately, what’s left, what’s the interest rate. We’ll pay something off early, restructure something else—I make schedules like this by the dozen every week at work.»
«Without a new loan, I can’t pay off anything,» Vitya grumbled, not even glancing at the columns. «I’ll have to sell the car. Do you even realize what that means? I’m almost forty, and I’ll have to start taking the bus to work, like some university kid!»
«Plenty of people ride the bus, and nothing bad happens to them.»
«People!» He pulled the notebook toward himself, ripped out the page with the chart, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash. «You’re the one ruining our marriage with your stubbornness, you hear me? You! Mom is right—your paperwork is more important to you than a living person!»
Anya leaned over the trash can, fished out the crumpled page from beneath the potato peels, smoothed it on the table with her palm, brushed off the garbage, and stuck it on the fridge with a magnet—right in plain sight. Vitya stood there for a moment, stared at the wrinkled chart, slammed the cabinet door, and went to the other room where his pillow and blanket had been lying since yesterday.
On Wednesday, Anya came home from work, took off her coat, and set his laptop on the kitchen table.
«Open every banking app you’ve got,» she said. «All of them, Vitya, however many you have. I’m sitting right here and watching.»
«Here we go again,» Vitya rolled his eyes and sat down. «You’re treating me like I’m being interrogated.»
«Do you want your mom to stop crying? Then do it. Otherwise, I’m not talking to you about anything—not your mom, not the car.»
He spent a long time entering passwords, mixing up numbers, resetting them twice and starting over. Anya sat nearby with her notebook, jotting down every single number that appeared on screen. There was the transmission loan, a credit card with an overdraft, a consumer loan for coffee machines, another card she had never even heard of, and two more microloans from October with interest rates that would make any accountant at her work gasp.
When she drew the line and added it all up, the total came to one million one hundred twelve thousand. Anya counted again, out loud, moving her pen down each line, and the sum stayed the same.
«You said seven hundred.»
«That was just an estimate.»
«An estimate? This is four hundred thousand more than your so-called estimate!» Anya turned the laptop toward herself and opened their joint savings account, which Vitya had access to. «And what’s this? There was three hundred twenty in here, I looked in September. Where’s the other one hundred fifty?»
Vitya stayed silent and rubbed the edge of the table with his finger. Anya scrolled through the statements and found three withdrawals in September, each for fifty thousand, and all three went to pay off an old credit card that same day.
«You sent our kitchen money to the bank.» She slammed the laptop shut so abruptly that Vitya pulled his hand back. «I spent September in my fall boots because I was saving up for winter ones! And meanwhile, you were just taking and transferring money!»
«I was going to put everything back before New Year’s, you wouldn’t even have noticed!»
«I’m an accountant, Vitya! I’d have noticed within a month!»
She grabbed his phone from the table, found his mother in the contacts, and hit call. Galina Petrovna picked up on the first ring, gently, thinking her son was calling.
«Galina Petrovna, it’s Anya. Tell me one thing: did you return the one hundred eighty thousand Vitya sent you in August?»
There was silence on the line for a second, then her mother-in-law’s voice turned cold and metallic.
«I spent the money and I’m not about to explain myself to you. I got my teeth fixed with my own money, and at my age, I have the right to do that. Vitya decided to help his mother on his own—he made that choice, I didn’t force him. And now you want to make me out to be the villain? And don’t call me again from his phone, got it?!»
Galina Petrovna hung up. Anya placed the phone face down on the table and looked at her husband, who was sitting with his head in his hands.
«Did she buy that ring with the green stone with her own money too?» Anya asked. «Or does that count as the dental expenses too?»
Vitya didn’t answer. He just pressed his fingers to his temples even harder.
On Thursday, Anya made dinner for one, ate, washed her plate, and placed a sheet of paper in front of her husband, with all his debts carefully listed by date. Vitya poked at cold pasta in the skillet and glanced at the sheet as if it were a summons.
«Explain to me,» Anya said. «Not to your mom, not to Sasha, just to me. Why did you hide the amount, and why were you sending money to your mother when we were saving for the kitchen?»
Vitya was silent for a long time, then put down his fork.
«I thought I could make a profit flipping stuff. The coffee machines didn’t work out, so Sasha said phones from China would be better. I took out a loan to buy phones and pay off the first card. The phones got stuck at customs, and then they sold for less than I bought them. I took out more money to pay off that debt. And then more,» he waved at the sheet. «So here we are.»
«And your mom?»
«I gave Mom 180 so I wouldn’t have it lying around. I knew if it stayed on my card, I’d end up spending it on something else. Then Sasha called and said there was a good deal, we had to move fast, so I told Mom I needed it back. But she told me she’d already spent it—on her teeth.» Vitya gave a crooked smile. «I couldn’t tell her I’d lost the money. She tells everyone her son is clever, has a car, has a career. It would have broken her heart.»
«So you decided it would be better if I went crazy.»
«I thought you’d take out a loan, we’d pay off the scariest part, and then I’d earn enough in a year to pay it all off myself.» He looked up at her, his eyes red and wet. «I was counting on you from the start, Anya, yes. Who else could I count on? You’re the reliable one, you always fix everything!»
He suddenly started crying—loud, messy, like a child—wiping his nose with the back of his hand. In twelve years, Anya had never seen him cry like that. She stood by the stove, gripping the oven handle.
«Don’t destroy everything over money,» he pleaded through his tears. «I won’t hide anything from you again, do you hear me? I swear. If you want, I’ll give you all my passwords, all my bank cards.»
«Keep your passwords,» Anya said, taking the sheet off the table and putting it in her notebook. «I won’t sign any papers until I see the full list and a real plan for how you’ll pay it off yourself.»
Just as suddenly as he’d started, Vitya stopped crying and sniffled.
«If you had just agreed last Friday, none of this would have happened,» he said almost calmly. «No mom, no tears, nothing. Do you get that?»
Anya silently opened the drawer in the hallway, took out her passport, and slipped it into her bag, tucking it into the inner zippered pocket. Vitya watched her hand for a moment, then turned away to the window.
On Sunday, they drove together to see Galina Petrovna in Vitya’s car. The whole way there, Vitya kept switching radio stations, never listening to a full song. When they arrived, his mother opened the door only for her son, but Anya managed to slip in behind him before the door closed.
«I told you not to bring her!» Galina Petrovna shouted right there in the hallway.
«Mom, we need to talk,» Vitya said as he took off his shoes.
In the kitchen, Anya laid out a full bank statement on the rose-patterned tablecloth, highlighting one line with yellow marker. Galina Petrovna sat across from her, arms folded, the ring with a green stone flashing under the lamp.
«Galina Petrovna, you’re demanding that I take out a five-year loan,» Anya said. «Meanwhile, you received a hundred and eighty thousand from him and have no intention of paying it back. How does that add up?»
«I’ve supported my son all my life!» her mother-in-law slammed her palm on the table. «I spent nights working at the kiosk so he could have a normal jacket! I don’t owe you any explanations for his gifts!»
«Mom’s right, Anya,» Vitya chimed in. «That was actually my gift. Let’s just drop it.»
Anya turned her whole body toward him.
«A gift? Vitya, say it right here in front of her. Did you ask her to take the money so you could get it back later, or did you actually give it to her as a gift?»
Vitya looked from his wife to his mother and fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. Then he cleared his throat and said, eyes on the table:
«I asked her to take it so I could get it back later. Mom, I told you then—it was supposed to be temporary.»
«Well then, take it back,» Galina Petrovna stood up. «Go earn it and get it back yourself. You’re responsible for your decisions, I never bought those phones or coffee machines for you! You’re a grown man, forty years old, and now you’re dumping this on your mother? I’m not a bank, Vitya!»
Vitya opened his mouth, but said nothing. He just sat there, staring at his mother as if seeing her truly angry for the first time—not on his behalf. Galina Petrovna walked out to the hallway, grabbed his jacket from the rack, and threw it onto his lap.
«You both can go,» she said. «I have to get ready; I’m meeting Nina tonight.»
On the stairs, Vitya paused, pulled his car keys from his pocket, and stared for a long time at the keychain. In the car, he didn’t start the engine, just sat with his hands on the wheel while Anya waited next to him, not rushing him.
«I’ll put it up for sale tomorrow,» he finally said. «On Avito. Sasha said we could get six hundred if we don’t haggle.»
«They’ll try to haggle,» Anya said. «List it at six hundred fifty.»
The car sold eleven days later for six hundred twenty. The buyer, a bald man with his wife, spent half an hour circling it in the yard, kicking the tires. Vitya took the money to the bank himself, paid off both microloans, and closed the credit card with the nastiest interest rate. For two weeks after, he went around to the other banks himself in the mornings before work, and every evening he sent Anya photos of the new payment schedules.
It’s been nine days since Anya moved into a one-bedroom apartment on Zarechnaya, renting it for two months from a colleague who went to visit her daughter. On Saturday, she returned home to pick up her winter boots and documents, and Vitia greeted her in the hallway, wearing a home t-shirt and holding a screwdriver.
«I changed the socket,» he said, leading her into the kitchen. «Did it myself, using a YouTube video. You can throw out the extension cord now.»
The new white socket near the fridge hung a little crookedly, its left side lower than the right, with a strip of wallpaper peeking out from under the frame. Anya stepped up, touched the frame—it didn’t wobble.
«Anya, come back,» Vitia said as he sat on a stool. «I’m showing you everything, you can see how I’m living, I’ve got everything on schedule now. Why are you staying in someone else’s apartment like a tenant? Let’s go back to how it was.»
«It won’t be like before,» Anya replied. «I’m ready to talk, Vitia, really ready. But for now, I’ll stay there. I want to see how you handle things for three months—paying the bills yourself, without your mom or Sasha.»
«Three months,» he repeated, nodding, although it was clear he was only calculating a month ahead.
Suddenly his phone rang in his pocket. The screen showed “Mom.” Vitia answered briefly, said he’d be leaving in half an hour by bus, and that he’d buy the cake himself. Galina Petrovna was speaking loudly, so Anya heard every word: Nina was asking if Vitia was coming alone, and so was Serezha—and everyone kept asking.
«By myself, Mom,» Vitia said. «Yes, I mean it. Just me.»
He put his phone away, got dressed in the hallway, then returned to the kitchen with a blue plastic folder, which he placed on the table in front of Anya.
«All the contracts and new schedules are in here. And a list of what I’m paying myself from my own card, and what’s shared—utilities, groceries. Check it over; you’re our accountant after all.»
«Anything you want me to tell your mom?» Anya asked.
«No,» said Vitia, zipping up his coat. «I’m not delivering any messages to her. She’ll figure it out if she wants to.»
He left, closing the door with just one turn of the key. Anya opened the folder, pulled out the top sheet with the list of payments, and ran her pen down each line, matching sums with the contracts. At the very end, after all the loans, Vitia had handwritten in big, uneven letters: kitchen, since spring, from my share. Anya crossed out ‘since spring’ and wrote ‘we’ll see’ above it, then pulled the old extension cord from behind the fridge, wound it up, and put it in a bag along with her winter boots.
