Part 4 — My Sister Forcefully Entered the House, but Her Confident Smile Immediately Disappeared at Her Mother’s Unexpected Appearance

The complaint said that I had taken money and deliberately delayed the sale of the apartment.

The police officer placed the paper on the table.

“This is their last attempt,” he said. “Late, but dangerous.”

I looked at the paper and my hands froze.

“Who filed it?”

“The intermediary who paid the advance.”

Igor immediately exploded.

“I didn’t touch that money!”

Marina looked at him.

“You said the buyer had already agreed.”

“You told me that everything was being done with Sveta’s consent!”

“Both of you be quiet,” Mariam said.

There was such firmness in her voice that both of them closed their mouths.

“Where did the money go?”

Igor rummaged through his pockets.

“I will return it.”

“With what?” I asked.

He had no answer.

Mariam turned toward me.

“Sveta, now the choice is yours. You can withdraw the statement, tell them that it was a family misunderstanding, and let everything continue as before. Or you can record the truth.”

Andrei stood beside me.

“This time you will not save anyone,” he told me. “Neither Marina, nor your mother, nor Igor.”

His words were calm, but in them stood whole years of exhaustion.

I looked at Marina. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes full of tears. For the first time she no longer looked like a strong older sister. She was only a woman who had distributed her own fear over everyone’s heads.

“Mother is sick,” she whispered. “Kosta is little. Where will we go?”

This question pierced my heart.

But I already knew the answer.

“Where you should have lived until now. In your own responsibility.”

Marina lowered her head.

The police officers led Igor aside and put handcuffs on him. At first he was calm, as if he could still convince everyone.

“Sveta, think!” he shouted. “Are you sending your family to prison?”

I did not move.

“I did not put anyone there. You went there yourselves.”

Marina began to cry.

“Help me just once.”

“I helped you for years. And now I have learned the difference between helping and destroying myself.”

Igor shook his head.

“You are ungrateful.”

This word did not hurt me strangely. On the contrary, it was as if something had finally been lifted from my shoulders.

The next day, in the police room, they played the recording to Igor again from the beginning.

He sat on a chair, his hands placed in front of him, and listened to his own voice.

“First the earrings. Then the power of attorney. If she does not sign, I will bring Mother to her.”

The recording ended.

Silence fell over the room.

“That is my voice,” he said.

“Yes,” the investigator answered.

“But I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Words often mean more than their author admits.”

Igor lowered his eyes for the first time. He could no longer escape from his own voice.

Marina admitted that the plan shown in the recording was hers. She said that she told our mother that the sale of the apartment was needed only to cover a debt. Mother also admitted that she had touched the paper because Marina told her it was only a doctor’s consent.

I met my mother in the corridor in front of the courtroom.

“Forgive me,” she said.

“You protected Marina, and I never asked you to stand against her. I only wanted you to listen to me.”

My mother nodded through tears.

“I always thought you were strong.”

“Being strong does not mean that everything is permitted to them.”

Three weeks later, the court confirmed Marina’s guilt as an accomplice, while Igor was sentenced for forgery and theft. The power of attorney was annulled, the intermediary was returned the money, and I took my earrings from the pawnshop.

That day I returned to the apartment alone.

Four plastic cups stood in the living room, and the child’s little car remained in the corner. The broken leg of the sofa was still visible on the floor. Dust had settled on the wooden boat on the kitchen shelf.

I cleaned everything.

I did not throw away only the boat.

The house suddenly became very large. There was no longer the banging of footsteps in the rooms, the smell of cheap tobacco was gone, and no one took my card as if it were their right.

Andrei took me to the doctor.

“Now let’s schedule the operation,” he told me.

“I’m afraid.”

“I was afraid too. I simply did not say it.”

This was the first honest conversation we had had after a long time.

For several weeks after the operation I did not speak with my mother. Then she sent me a short letter. It contained an apology, but she did not mention Marina’s name even once.

I still answered.

“Forgive me, but we cannot return to the old house. If you want to see me, come together with the truth.”

Two months later my mother came. She was holding Kosta’s drawing in her hand. The child had drawn the sea, and beside it a small house, with four people standing at its window.

“Kosta wants to come to you,” my mother told me. “But Marina is still afraid.”

“Fear is not a reason to take someone’s life away.”

“I know.”

I attached Kosta’s drawing to the refrigerator.

The child slowly became better. His asthma attacks decreased because Marina finally followed the doctor’s instructions. Igor began treatment, although that was no longer my concern.

I returned to work part-time. In the mornings I walked along the seashore, and in the evenings I did exercises. At first even ten steps hurt me. Then I reached twenty.

On the morning of the first winter, I found thin snow on the balcony. The sea shone gray, while inside the house there was the smell of coffee.

Andrei brought out two cups.

“You know what is strangest?” I asked.

“What?”

“I thought I was afraid of losing the house. In reality, I was afraid of regaining my own peace.”

He squeezed my hand.

“Are you no longer afraid?”

I went to the window. A wooden boat stood on the shelf. Its fallen sail was still tilted to the side, but it no longer looked broken. I repaired it with a thin thread.

That same evening Marina called me.

“Sveta, may I ask you for one thing?”

“Tell me.”

“If they soften my case in court, will you let us return to you?”

I was silent for a long time.

“No.”

“Just like that?”

“No, Marina. Very difficultly.”

“I am still your sister.”

“That is precisely why I am telling you the truth. You must build your life yourself. And I will no longer open the door of my house in order to lose myself again.”

She said nothing.

“Do you hate me?” she asked at last.

“No. But I will no longer help you in the way I did before.”

The call ended.

I opened the window. Cold air entered the room, and the curtain lightly passed over the wooden boat.

That night, for the first time, I did not wait for a knock on the door.

My house was mine again.

And the little boat was still looking toward the sea.