“We gave the apartment to Dina,” my mother said. I canceled all the payments I had been making for my parents.
I was carrying the cake box down the stairs. “Inga! Inga, where are you taking it?” my mother shouted from above, leaning over the railing. “You brought it here! It was already on the table!” “It was. Now it isn’t.” “People are watching!” A neighbor was smoking on the third-floor landing. He was watching, yes. […]
Continue...