— Hello… please, try to understand. Katia really needed it. She has that project of hers… she’ll return everything with interest! One week, that’s what she said, and we’ll be swimming in money!
Alla stood silently in the kitchen. In her hand she crumpled a small red slip of paper — the amount Pavel had taken from the drawer was written on it.
She watched his fingers too: they were trembling, damp with sweat, as if even he no longer believed his own words.
— You gave the money to Katia? — she finally asked, slowly, almost in a whisper, in a voice that made the air feel heavier. — To your sister, who has never worked a single day in her life? What kind of project, Pavel? A pyramid built out of manure?
— Don’t yell! — Pavel shrieked, waving his hands as if he could push the words away. — This… this is an investment! She knows what she’s doing! She said it’s a sure thing. You put in twenty, you get a hundred!
I did it for the family! I wanted to buy you winter boots!
— Boots… — Alla’s bitter laugh sounded like shattered glass. — You didn’t buy me boots, Pavel. You bought me a noose. Around my neck. We have nothing to eat! You see those chicken backs in the pot? That’s our dinner for three days.
Pavel shrank, his shoulders collapsing inward like a teenager caught red-handed.
— Why do you always start like this… My mother called, said I had to help Katia, now or never, this is the chance of her life. I’m a man. It’s my duty to help.
— You’re not a man, Pavel — Alla replied wearily. — You’re a walking wallet for your mother and your sister. For us, you’re dead weight. Eat. The meat is for the child.
The evening settled over the apartment in a thick, suffocating silence.
Mishka, their seven-year-old son, ate quickly with his head down, as if afraid his spoon might make too much noise. Then he disappeared into his room to do his homework. He had already learned when it was better not to be seen.
Alla washed the dishes in ice-cold water. The hot water had been shut off “temporarily” a week ago. Her fingers went numb, her bones ached as if they were cracking from the inside. The smell of dish soap mixed with cold and poverty.
She wiped her hands on her apron, picked up her phone, and dialed Katia’s number.
It rang for a long time. — Hello? — Katia’s voice was cheerful, loud music pounding in the background. — Who’s this?
— It’s Alla. Your brother’s wife.
— Oh, Allie! — Katia laughed. — You? Calling to congratulate me? Pasha and I celebrated the deal… well, I drank for him too!
— Katia, give the money back. We can’t pay the loan. We don’t even have food.
— Oh, stop whining! — Katia’s voice turned irritated. — Everything is always bad with you. Don’t be so jealous. Money loves lightness, I already invested it. Just wait — soon you’ll be riding around in a Mercedes!
— If the money isn’t there tomorrow, I’ll come over and pull your hair out — Alla said with a calm that scared even herself.
— Ugh, how rude! — Katia scoffed. — Don’t call me again, I’m busy.
The line went dead. Alla tossed the phone onto the couch.
— What did she say? — Pavel asked cautiously.
— That there’s no money. And that you’re a fool.
— Come on… Katia’s honest, she’s just unlucky.
— Unlucky? Not at all. She’s lucky to have a stupid brother. Tomorrow the bank will be calling us.
In the morning, it wasn’t the smell of coffee that woke her, but the beep of a message: “Dear customer, we remind you of your scheduled payment…”
Alla checked the balance. 350.
Enough for the bus and a dry roll.
She went to the neighbor, Aunt Valya. The elderly woman was holding a fat ginger cat.
— Aunt Valya, could you lend me five thousand until payday?
Aunt Valya sighed and lowered her eyes.
— My dear, where would I get it? I have nothing myself. Pension only comes on the tenth. Go to the pawnshop, leave your ring.
Alla looked at the thin, worn wedding band on her finger. It was worth almost nothing.
The workday at the warehouse dragged on endlessly. She stuck labels on boxes: “Vitamins for beauty and youth.” Price: 2500. She thought bitterly that with that money they could eat for a week.
In the evening, the stairwell was dark. The apartment was dark too.
On the breaker panel hung a note: “Electricity disconnected. Debt: 4800.”
Alla sat down on the dirty mat. Mishka came out.
— Mom, I’m hungry.
In the bedroom, Pavel was snoring, an empty vodka bottle beside him.
Inside, Alla felt hollow.
Before dawn, she got up. Took the keys to the Lada Vesta. Called Ashot.
Twenty minutes later, the tow truck was already in the yard. Pavel came running downstairs, screaming.
— You sold my car?!
— For the family — Alla answered calmly.
Pepper spray. A short hiss. Pavel dropped to his knees in the mud. The money was dirty and crumpled, but it meant life.
— Get dressed, Mishka — she said at home. — We’re eating chicken. And cake.
— Cake?!
— Yes. We’re celebrating.
That evening, the apartment was bright. The chicken was roasting, the potatoes crackled. Mishka laughed. Pavel sat silently in the corner. Alla knew: she wasn’t happy. But she was strong. And sometimes that is enough to start over.
