She lay on my bed with dirty boots, and when I returned, the smile suddenly disappeared from her face

When I returned from the balcony, Inna was still lying on the white bedspread of my bed and smearing mud onto my pillow with her dirty boots.

“Where are you going?” she asked me as if I had entered her own apartment.

Her friend laughed on the phone. Inna did not even stop talking. I went into the kitchen, put my bag on the table, and slowly washed my hands. The water coming from the tap was cold, but it did nothing to lessen the trembling inside me.

I looked in the mirror. My face was calm. Too calm.

My mother’s old sewing machine, set into a heavy lacquered wooden case, stood in the corner of the bedroom. Inna had called it an umbrella stand, and now, having moved onto the bed, she had carried the mud almost as far as that case. For years I had taken care of this object as if I were protecting my mother’s hands. In the evenings Mother sat in front of it, moved the pedal with her foot, and sewed dresses for me.

Inna knew everything. That was why her mockery hurt me especially badly.

“So, are you looking at that old case again?” she chuckled when she finished the conversation. “Slava said you have a very sensitive character.”

“Get up from the bed.”

My voice was low.

Inna’s laughter disappeared, but only for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

“Take off your boots and get up from the bed.”

She put the phone on the bedspread and slowly sat up.

“Oksana, I have been living here for two weeks. Have you suddenly become a queen?”

“This is my house.”

I said the words aloud for the first time. I myself was surprised by how easily they came out.

Inna narrowed her eyes.

“It is our brother’s house. Slava also has a right here.”

“Slava does. You are a guest.”

At that moment the clock in the corridor struck five. Its sound rang out unusually clearly, as if the apartment too had heard what I said.

Inna got up from the bed, but she did not take off her boots. On the contrary, she came one step toward me and deliberately struck me with her shoulder.

“I’ll call Slava. Will you complain to him again that I am bad and rude?”

“Call him.”

“And then you’ll see who will leave this house.”

Her last words remained stuck in my heart. Not because I was frightened. Because there was something familiar in that threat. As if this had been a scene thought out in advance, and I had only belatedly realized that Inna had not come here simply to live.

At six in the evening I went down to my neighbor Nino. In our building, she was the only person I trusted. She opened the door to me wearing an apron and immediately noticed the tension on my face.

“What happened?”

“Nino, do you remember how Mother left me the apartment?”

Nino looked at me for several seconds.

“By will. Why are you asking me?”

“Has Slava ever asked you about those documents?”

“Once. He asked whether the apartment was really in your name. Why?”

I could not answer. I touched the copper bell hanging on Nino’s wall with my finger and felt a strange cold.

“Today Inna told me that I would see who would leave the house.”

Nino’s face tensed.

“Oksana, do not return alone.”

“First I have to find out what they are planning.”

When I entered the house in the evening, Inna was not in the living room. Instead, the drawer of my work desk was half open. I kept copies of Mother’s documents and old receipts there. I put my hand into the drawer. One folder was missing.

Inna’s voice came from the bedroom.

“Yes, she will come on Friday. Will Oksana be at work? Good. Then everything will be simple…”

I took hold of the door handle, but did not enter yet. In my other hand I held my phone, and the small red recording mark was blinking.

At that moment Inna said: “The main thing is that she signs before her husband returns…”

I opened the door all the way, Inna turned around, and for the first time I saw fear in her eyes. At that moment I put my phone on the table, took the folder out of my bag, and reached toward the first sheet…

I touched the edge of the sheet with my fingers, but Inna jumped forward.

“Put that down.”

“Why?”

“Because those are my personal things.”

“This folder was in my drawer.”

Her face changed. Behind the door the refrigerator hummed, and the small light on the phone on the table was still blinking.

“I’ll call Slava,” Inna told me.

“I have already called Nino. I will make one more call if you do not tell me right now what you are planning.”

She grabbed my hand and reached toward the phone. I stepped back.

“Touch me one more time and I will call the police.”

“You are crazy!”

“Maybe. But for the first time, I am not afraid of you.”

Inna stopped by the door. Then she smiled, although there was no warmth left in the smile.

“Tomorrow everything will be over.”

“What will be over?”

“Your little family fairy tale.”

At eleven at night, when she went into the bathroom, I photographed the folder’s pages. My mother’s signature could be read on the first page, and my name was at the bottom. The second page was missing.

At that same moment I received a message from an unknown number: “You will be home tomorrow at ten in the morning. Otherwise the door will be opened for you without your consent.”

I called Nino.

“Oksana, let no one in.”

“What if they enter by force?”

“Then use what Mother left you.”

“Nino, what do you know?”

She was silent for several seconds.

“Your mother left one secret with me. Tomorrow morning I will bring it to you…”

The call suddenly ended. And then someone knocked on the door three times…

The blow on the door shook the entire apartment. Inna came out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel.

“Who is it?”

A fourth knock sounded.

I looked through the peephole. Nino was standing there, and beside her was a woman who had come with a low black bag.

“This is Marina, your mother’s notary,” Nino said when I opened the door. “Now you must know everything.”

Inna became pale.

“You bring a notary at midnight? You are all out of your minds?”

Marina entered calmly and placed a leather folder on the table.

“Mrs. Oksana, your mother left a sealed packet with me. It was to be opened only if someone attempted to sell your apartment or make you sign something.”

Inna immediately stepped back.

“Who is trying to sell it?”

Marina looked at her.

“We will find that out soon.”

She took Mother’s letter out of the folder. The paper had a faint smell of lavender. Mother always kept clothes with this scent.

“Oksana, if you are reading this letter, someone is trying to convince you that your home cannot be yours without someone else’s permission. Remember: the apartment belongs to you. Slava never had the right to sign for its sale.”

My knees gave way.

“But I have not signed anything,” I said.

“You have not,” Marina replied. “There is a power of attorney made in your name. The signature is forged.”

Inna inhaled sharply.

“This is absurd!”

Nino took out her phone.

“Then listen to this.”

The conversation I had recorded sounded in the room. Inna’s voice could be heard clearly: “The buyer will come on Friday. Slava has already signed. Oksana only has one sheet left to sign. If she does not sign, we have a doctor’s certificate that her nerves have not been good lately.”

Inna’s lips turned white.

“You recorded this illegally!”

“From my own apartment,” I answered. “Where you were lying on my bed with dirty boots.”

At that moment Slava called me. Marina raised her hand so that I would put it on speaker.

“Oksana, do not listen to Inna. I will explain everything tomorrow.”

“They have already explained it to me.”

Silence fell.

“Who is in the house?” he asked.

“A notary, a witness, and the woman who talked about your plan on a recording.”

Slava hung up without a word.

Marina unfolded the second sheet. It said that Mother had informed the tax and law-enforcement authorities in advance about any false document placed on the apartment.

“They will come here in the morning,” she said. “But now you must know something else.”

She put a small memory card on the table.

“This is from a camera in your house. Inna hid the camera from you, but your mother left the device. The recording shows who entered your study and who took the second page of the folder.”

I moved closer to the screen.

The first seconds of the video were still not visible. Then the door handle moved slowly, and the face of the person who entered the room lit up…

And at that same moment I realized that Inna had not been alone in all this…