I stared at her, my pulse hammering in my ears. How dare she? My Kolya, my husband, would have never allowed such cruelty. Yet here was his mother, looking at me as if I were nothing more than an obstacle between her and her prize.
— “No, Svetlana Petrovna. This apartment is not Kolya’s legacy. It’s my life, my blood, my sweat. And I will never give it up.”
Her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a cold smirk.
— “You’ll regret this, Lena. Do you think you can stand against me? Against family?”
I felt my hands tremble, but I refused to lower my gaze.
— “If you want this apartment, you’ll have to take me out with it.”
For a long, heavy moment, silence filled the room. Then she leaned back, her tone sweet again, like poisoned honey.
— “We’ll see, dear. We’ll see…”
That night I couldn’t sleep. Every creak of the floorboards, every shadow made me feel watched. And then… a note slipped under my door.
On it, scrawled in shaky handwriting, were just five words:
“You don’t belong here.” 😨
