— “Do you really not understand what you’re doing?” — Tamara Viktorovna’s voice trembled with deep, painful anger. — “You want to take away from your own brother what rightfully belongs to him!”
Olga slowly set down her glass of iced tea and placed a hand on her belly, where the baby responded with a gentle kick. Her heart tightened, as if a storm were rumbling inside her.
— “Mom,” she said in a soft but firm voice, “Grandpa Mikhail Petrovich chose to leave the apartment to me. The notary confirmed it — he was completely lucid until the end.”
— “Lucid?” — Tamara Viktorovna exclaimed, rising to her feet, her hands trembling. — “He was old, sick, and you convinced him!”
Olga thought of all the nights spent by his side, every medicine bought, every tender word meant to warm his weary heart. Her gaze grew sharp:
— “I was there for him when hope had vanished. As for Andrei, he only showed up when there was money involved.”
Tamara Viktorovna, tears in her eyes, said:
— “Andrei is your brother, a man! He needs a roof over his head to start a family. And you? You’ll live in a tiny flat with an engineer husband and make do!”
— “I have a home,” Olga replied in a voice of steel. — “It’s not walls that make a house, but love and warmth. I want to give my child more than a roof — a place filled with laughter and light.”
— “You only think about yourself!” — her mother sniffed. — “And what about the family honor?”
— “A name is just a word,” Olga whispered. — “What matters is how you carry it through life, not the label on a building.”
Tamara Viktorovna stepped back, as if realizing the chasm between them.
— “So you’re ready to lose everything? Me, your brother, your family?”
— “I’ve already lost everything,” Olga murmured. — “But I’ve gained the freedom to be honest — with myself and with the child growing inside me.”
Tamara Viktorovna lowered her head, unable to respond.
A few days later, the doorbell rang. Olga opened it to find Andrei and Kristina standing outside.
— “We came to…” they began, but Olga, resolute, knew they would never understand.
— “I’m sorry,” she said gently, closing the door. — “My values have changed.”
She caressed her belly and felt the baby stir again. The world was harsh and unfair, but within her now lived an unshakable strength: she had chosen love over demands. That was her true home.
