“My apartment. Not ‘ours,’ not ‘the family’s.’ Mine. I lived here, and I’m protecting it. And you’re just greedy relatives.”
— The apartment is mine. Not “ours,” not “the family’s.” Mine. I lived in it, and I’m the one protecting it. And you’re nothing but greedy relatives. Valentin, the cousin of Ekaterina’s late husband, leaned over the kitchen table as though he intended to crush it with his bare hands. — Do you even understand … Read more