Marina stopped at the kitchen doorway and felt the unspoken words stuck in her throat. Her hand involuntarily clenched the phone — still warm from the message from her boss about the bonus. Three voice messages from Lena, her friend, with whom they had almost already bought tickets for a two-week vacation in Turkey.
“What?” she managed to squeeze out.
Her mother didn’t even turn away from the stove where she was stirring her signature borscht. Laughter came from the sofa in the living room — Anya, her younger sister, was watching another reality show.
“You heard. Anya and that guy of hers… what’s his name…” her mother frowned, trying to recall the name, “Kirill decided to rent an apartment. The landlord wants six months’ rent paid in advance. And where is she supposed to get that kind of money? Your bonus is just what’s needed.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement. As always in their house.
Marina took off her coat and carefully hung it on the hook in the hall. Her movements were slow and deliberate — that’s how she always coped with inner tension. Twenty-eight years of habit controlling her emotions in front of her mother.
“Mom, I was going to use that money,” she began cautiously. “Lena and I had planned…”
“Oh, your Lena again,” her mother waved dismissively, checking the pies in the oven. “She’s always dragging you somewhere. You’re almost thirty, and you’re still gallivanting around the seas with your girlfriend. You should think about family instead.”
Anya floated into the living room — a twenty-three-year-old copy of their mother, only younger and with a tattoo on her wrist. She went to the fridge, took out a yogurt, and leaned against the doorframe, watching her sister with a slight smirk.
“Marinka, why are you so upset? You got the bonus, right? That’s cool,” she scooped yogurt with a spoon. “Kirill found a really nice place yesterday, imagine? Two rooms, windows facing the yard, and the landlord is a decent woman. Only she says — either pay six months upfront or look for another place.”
Marina looked at her sister. Unlike Marina herself with her dark hair tied in a strict bun and perpetually tired eyes, Anya was radiant. Light blonde curls, dimples on her cheeks, a serene gaze. Mom’s princess, as their dad used to say before he left for the accountant from his office three years ago.
“Anya, why can’t Kirill pay for the apartment himself?” Marina asked, trying to keep irritation out of her voice. “He’s already twenty-six. His parents would give him the money.”
Anya rolled her eyes.
“You know they’re having business problems right now. Temporary difficulties. Besides, he’ll pay it back. And we’re a couple, we have to help each other.”
“We should. Help each other,” Marina emphasized the last words. “Not ask your sister to give up her saved money.”
“Oh, come on, Marinka,” Anya stepped closer and put a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “You still have plenty of time to go to your sea. We really need this apartment now. You understand, right? Kirill and I want to live together, test our relationship.”
Mom snorted loudly without looking away from the cooking.
“They’ll be testing all right… You’d better get married properly.”
“Mom, everyone lives like that now,” Anya stretched out. “Right, Marina?”
Marina was silent. She had worked for four years at an international company, the last year as a senior analyst. Every day she woke up at six a.m., came home at nine p.m. She often spent weekends at her laptop. Her last proper vacation was two years ago.
And Anya… Anya had changed three jobs after college, never staying anywhere longer than three months. She was now “finding herself,” simultaneously taking an online nail design course. Kirill was also “finding himself,” promising to start a business, then become a trader, then do web design.
“Marina,” her mother’s voice hardened. “Don’t be selfish. Your sister needs help. It’s family, understand? Family.”
Marina felt something inside crack. Selfish? She, who every month gave half her salary to shared expenses, while Anya spent her random earnings on new dresses and hanging out with Kirill?
“I was going on vacation, mom,” she said quietly. “Just for two weeks. I saved for this trip for a year.”
“Vacation!” Mom threw up her hands. “What vacation, when your sister is settling her life? You only think about yourself. Always have.”
Anya approached Marina, looking into her eyes with that pleading look of hers.
“Marinka, please. I’ll pay you back. Later. When I find a proper job.”
“When will you find it, that job?” Marina lost control. “You’ve been saying that for three years.”
“Not everyone’s a careerist like you,” Mom interjected, banging the lid of a pot. “Anya still needs to create a family. Have children.”
“So I’m not supposed to create or have children?” Marina blurted.
Mom looked at her with a strange expression — a mix of pity and irritation.
“Well, when will you have time, with your job? Always tired, always busy. Men don’t like women like that. And Anya — she’s a homebody, warm.”
Marina pressed her lips tight. Meanwhile, Anya took her sister’s phone and started scrolling through photos of Turkish hotels like she owned the place.
“Wow, you’re going to a five-star?!” she whistled. “Yeah, pricey. But you know, you could go to a three-star. Or even Sochi. There’s sea too.”
Marina took the phone back.
“I wanted a good hotel,” she said. “Once every two years I can afford that.”
“Sure you can,” Mom nodded. “But now it’s more important to help your sister. You can rest later.”
Later. The eternal “later.”
“Anya,” Marina looked at her sister. “Why can’t you find an apartment with monthly payments?”
“They cost more!” Anya exclaimed. “But this one’s near the metro and shops. And the landlord doesn’t mind Kirill’s dog. You know how he loves his Charlie.”
Charlie. A German Spitz that Kirill walked three times a day — the only thing he did regularly.
“How much do you need?” Marina asked, already knowing she had lost.
Anya grinned broadly.
“Two hundred fifty thousand. But that’s for six months! Imagine? Less than fifty a month. Very profitable.”
Marina froze. Two hundred fifty. Almost her entire bonus.
“Anya, I…”
“Marina,” Mom turned to her full-on. “You won’t refuse your sister. You’re not like that. I didn’t raise you like that.”
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Anya jumped.
“It’s Kirill! I told him to come for dinner. Mom, set the table. Marina, are you coming with us?”
Marina slowly shook her head.
“No, I… I’ll go to my room. I’m tired.”
In her room, Marina sat on the bed, staring blankly at one spot. There were five new messages from Lena on her phone.
“So? Got the bonus? Are we buying swimsuits tomorrow?)))”
“Marinka, are you alive there?”
“I found another cool hotel, but you have to book today, spots are running out.”
“Hey?”
“Why are you silent? Everything okay?”
Laughter from the kitchen — Anya’s laughter, Kirill’s deep voice, the approving clink of mom’s spoon on a plate.
“Len, I can’t go,” Marina typed.
“WHAT? WHY???”
Marina sighed. How to explain? How to explain this endless pattern she kept falling into again and again?
“Family circumstances.”
“Your sister again? Marina, when will you stop supporting them all?”
Marina didn’t answer. Suddenly, the small room where she’d lived since her teenage years felt suffocating. The same wallpaper, the same creaky wardrobe, the same photos on the wall. Only the computer had changed — where she did her work when she didn’t have the strength to stay in the office.
She left the room and quietly slipped to the front door. Put on her coat.
“Where are you going?” her mother’s voice called from the kitchen.
“I’m going for a walk. Headache.”
“Don’t be late. And don’t forget money for Anya tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a reply, her mother returned to dinner.
Marina walked through the evening neighborhood, unaware of the passersby. Her phone vibrated in her pocket — Lena didn’t give up. She opened the messages.
“Marin, I’m serious. I understand you have difficulties, but you can’t sacrifice yourself forever.”
“You told me you wanted to rent your own apartment this year. What’s stopping you?”
“Marin, answer me.”
Marina stopped at the embankment railing. In the distance, the windows of skyscrapers glowed — homes of strangers with their own problems and joys. Since childhood, she had watched those windows, imagining a different life.
She typed to Lena: “I’m flying with you.”
“What??? Really??? What about family circumstances?”
“Let them sort out their own circumstances.”
Marina took a deep breath of cold evening air. Inside, there was a strange emptiness but also relief — as if a heavy backpack had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Really? Won’t change your mind by tomorrow?” Lena didn’t believe it.
“Really. I’ll book tickets today.”
And she did — right there on the embankment, with fingers trembling from cold and excitement, she paid for two tickets to Antalya.
Marina returned home late. The apartment was quiet, only soft music coming from Anya’s room. Her mother was apparently already asleep.
In the morning, getting ready for work, she bumped into her mother in the kitchen.
“Transfer the money to your sister’s card,” her mother said without looking at her. “She’s going to see the contract and pay the deposit today.”
“What money?” Marina asked, pouring herself coffee.
Her mother frowned.
“What money? Your bonus. I got a notification that the funds were deposited. Transfer it to Anya right away so you don’t forget.”
Marina froze with the cup in her hand.
“You… what?”
“Don’t look like that,” her mother waved it off. “We have a joint account. For family expenses.”
A joint account. Long ago, Marina had made an additional card for her mother to her bank account so she could withdraw money or buy groceries when Marina was late at work. But she never imagined her income would be monitored so closely.
“Mom, that money… I already spent it,” Marina said slowly.
“In what way?” her mother finally looked at her.
“I bought tickets. To the sea. With Lena.”
A heavy silence hung in the kitchen.
“What have you done?” her mother asked quietly and fearfully. “You knew the money was needed for your sister. I told you clearly yesterday.”
“And I told you clearly I was going on vacation,” Marina’s voice sounded foreign even to herself — firm, without the usual apologetic tone.
“Cancel your tickets,” her mother ordered. “Immediately. Anya has already arranged with the landlord and is signing the contract today.”
“I’m not canceling anything.”
Her mother looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time.
“What’s happening to you? You were always a good daughter, responsible. And now you’re acting like… like a selfish person.”
“No, mom,” Marina put the cup on the table. “I was always a convenient daughter. The one who works, pays, and doesn’t complain. And Anya… Anya can live as she pleases because there’s me and you who always back her up.”
Sleepy Anya appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing unicorn pajamas.
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting so early?”
“Your sister decided her vacation is more important than your apartment,” her mother said. “She spent all the bonus money on some trip with her Lena.”
Anya stared at Marina with genuine surprise.
“Really? But… what about Kirill and me? We already started packing.”
“Anya,” Marina looked at her sister. “You’re twenty-three. You have hands and a head. Find a job. Earn your own apartment.”
“Easy for you to say!” Anya exclaimed. “You’ve always been so… proper. But I can’t sit in an office from nine to six, you know? I’m different!”
“But you can sit on my neck, right?” Marina felt a wave rising inside her that she had been holding back for years. “You’re different, you’re special, everyone owes you — me, mom, Kirill and his parents. When will you start giving to the world, not just taking?”
“Enough!” her mother shouted. “How dare you talk to your sister like that?”
“How dare you,” Marina turned to her, “manage my money without asking? My life? My time?”
Her mother paled.
“I raised both of you alone. Did everything for you. And now…”
“Now you do everything for Anya,” Marina finished. “And I’m just the ATM on standby.”
“Leave,” her mother suddenly said. “If you think like that about your family, leave this house.”
Marina looked at the two women before her — so similar in appearance, with the same expression of wounded pride on their faces. They really didn’t understand.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll leave. Right after vacation.”
Two weeks in Turkey flew by in a flash. Sun, sea, excursions, evening walks along the embankment. She and Lena took photos against the sailboats, tried local cuisine, danced at beach parties. Marina felt alive and real for the first time in years.
She only turned on her phone in the evenings. Dozens of missed calls from Anya, a few messages from her mother — from threats to attempts to shame her. Marina didn’t reply.
On the last night before the flight, she sat on the balcony with a glass of wine watching the sun sink into the sea.
“What are you thinking about?” Lena asked, settling beside her.
“That there’s nowhere to return to.”
“What do you mean nowhere? The apartment? The job?”
“The job — yes. And the apartment… Mom said I should leave. And you know, I’m glad. It’s about time.”
Lena put her hand on Marina’s shoulder.
“You can stay with me until you find your own place. I have a sofa bed.”
Marina smiled.
“Thanks. But I think I’ve already found one.”
She took out her phone and showed Lena a photo of a small studio with panoramic windows.
“I saw the ad before leaving. Got in touch with the landlord. I can move in after I return.”
“Wow!” Lena looked over the photos. “Cute little apartment. And alone! Finally!”
“Yes,” Marina nodded. “Alone. Without mom’s reproaches and Anya’s constant requests.”
“What will happen to them? Your family?”
Marina shrugged.
“I don’t know. Let them learn to live within their means. Let Anya finally grow up. And me… I’m going to have my own life now.”
She took a sip of wine, looking at the darkening horizon. The future was unknown, but for the first time in a long while, it didn’t scare her — it inspired her.
A month later, Marina sat in her new apartment, unpacking the last boxes of belongings. Her laptop screen glowed on the table — she was finishing a presentation for a new project at work.
Her phone vibrated. The screen displayed “Mom.”
She looked at the word for several seconds, then sighed and answered.
“Yes?”
“Marina,” her mother’s voice sounded unusually quiet. “How are you?”
“Fine. Settling in slowly.”
Pause. Marina heard her mother’s breathing on the other end.
“Anya moved out from the landlord,” her mother finally said. “She and Kirill had a fight. She came back home.”
Marina was silent, waiting for the continuation she already knew.
“She needs money,” her mother said. “The landlord didn’t refund the deposit.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marina replied calmly.
Silence again.
“Will you… help? Just a little. She needs to pay for courses. She found a job, but has to do training.”
“No, mom,” Marina looked out the window at the evening city. “I won’t help anymore. Neither you nor Anya. Not because I don’t love you. But because helping the way I did before only made things worse.”
“But we’re family,” genuine confusion sounded in her mother’s voice.
“Yes, family. And in a healthy family, everyone is responsible for themselves. I learned this too late, but I learned it.”
Her mother sobbed on the other end of the line.
“You’ve changed, Marina. You’ve become harsh.”
“No, mom. I just finally became myself.”
After the call, Marina stood by the window for a long time, watching the city lights. Her phone vibrated again. This time, Anya.
Marina turned off the phone and returned to her presentation. There were rumors of a promotion at the office. And she had just spotted a wonderful southern tour for spring.
