Olga hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron before picking up her ringing phone. It was Mikhail again—his second call in quick succession, clearly signaling urgency. With one eye still on the frying pan to prevent dinner from burning, she answered:
“Hi, sweetheart, what’s going on?” Olga sensed the tension immediately.
“Hi, Olga. Look, we’ve got a problem,” Mikhail said nervously. “Nastya just called. Her apartment flooded—a pipe burst upstairs, the ceiling collapsed, it’s a disaster. She’s asking if she can stay here for a week or two while repairs are done.”
Olga’s hand froze mid-air. “A week or two?”
“Where exactly do you plan to put her?” she asked coldly.
“In the kids’ room, of course. You know she needs quiet because of her asthma,” he quickly added, anticipating her objections.
“And you think Katya and Dimka will be thrilled to sleep on the living room sofa while your sister takes over their bedroom?”
“Come on, Olga, it’s temporary. She really has nowhere else to stay.”
“What about her own apartment?”
“It’s filled with dust and paint fumes—she can’t stay there with her condition,” Mikhail argued patiently.
“Then why not your mom or a friend?”
Mikhail paused briefly, obviously having rehearsed this already.
“Mom’s place is too small, and Nastya herself says she’d be more comfortable here.”
Olga sighed, realizing she had little room to argue. “Fine, but strictly two weeks—no longer.”
“You’re the best, Olga!” Mikhail exclaimed with relief.
After ending the call, Olga didn’t feel any better. Nastya had always been difficult—overbearing, critical, always imposing her preferences. Olga knew she was facing a serious test of patience.
That evening, Nastya arrived, immediately inspecting their apartment with an air of superiority.
“Wait, is this a sofa-bed?” Nastya said disdainfully as she examined the sleeping arrangements in the kids’ room.
“It’s comfortable enough,” Olga replied calmly, masking her irritation.
“Comfortable?” Nastya grimaced. “Have you ever actually slept on it yourself? Well, I’ll manage somehow.”
Olga gritted her teeth, silently unpacking Nastya’s luggage. From her very first evening, Nastya suggested rearranging furniture “for comfort,” and complained about the balcony draft and bright curtains.
“These curtains are too bright; they give me headaches,” she declared, settling comfortably on the sofa.
Olga glanced at Mikhail, expecting him to step in, but he pretended not to notice, clearly avoiding confrontation.
That night, Olga lay awake, regretting that she had agreed to this arrangement. She had no idea it was only the beginning.
The week that followed tested Olga’s limits. Nastya woke late, took breakfast at midday, blasted the TV loudly, and piled dirty dishes in the kitchen despite having a dishwasher. Every evening, Olga silently cleaned up, anger building within her. When she complained to Mikhail, he merely shrugged, dismissing her concerns.
“You’re exaggerating, Olga. She’s just not used to kids.”
“She hasn’t showered in three days! That’s normal to you?”
“She’s probably just shy,” he said dismissively.
Olga felt increasingly like a stranger in her own home.
Early in the second week, Olga noticed that money—a small sum she’d left on a shelf—had disappeared. She confronted Mikhail quietly.
“Did you take cash from the hallway shelf?”
“No, why would I?” he replied without hesitation.
“Maybe Nastya took it,” Olga suggested cautiously.
“Stop it, Olga, you probably misplaced it,” Mikhail retorted, annoyed.
But Olga knew she hadn’t misplaced anything.
Toward the end of the second week, Nastya began having secretive phone conversations on the balcony, claiming she needed “privacy.” Olga found it suspicious but kept silent.
One evening, her youngest child casually revealed troubling news:
“Mom, Aunt Nastya said tenants are still living in her apartment.”
Olga froze. “What tenants?”
“Some people renting it. Aunt Nastya said she doesn’t want to kick them out. Who are they, Mom?”
Olga’s heart raced. Anger surged as she realized Nastya had lied about the flood. She was staying at their place not because of repairs, but because she wanted to keep collecting rent money.
That evening Olga confronted Mikhail.
“Your sister’s lying to us.”
“Where did you get that idea?” he asked defensively.
“The kids overheard her talking about tenants.”
Mikhail paled slightly. “You’re probably mistaken. Nastya wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Wouldn’t she? And what about the money you keep giving her secretly? I’m scraping pennies together, while you finance her lifestyle.”
Mikhail’s expression revealed his guilt.
“You’re enabling her behavior,” Olga continued. “She’s taking advantage of us.”
“It’s temporary,” he murmured weakly.
“Temporary? She’s been here nearly three months already! She won’t leave voluntarily because you’ve made it easy for her.”
Seeing Mikhail’s hesitation, Olga took matters into her own hands. A few days later, when Nastya slipped onto the balcony for another call, Olga quietly followed and overheard the conversation clearly:
“Dasha, relax. I told you it’s fine. The tenants are paying late, but it’ll work out soon. Of course I’ll keep staying here—Olga won’t say anything because she won’t want problems with Misha. Yeah, maybe I exaggerated about the repairs…”
Olga stood stunned, finally hearing undeniable proof of Nastya’s manipulation. That same evening, she confronted Mikhail again.
“Nastya’s been deceiving us—I heard her admit it. There’s no flood or repair. She rents out her place and uses our money to pay off her debts!”
Mikhail shifted nervously, avoiding her gaze.
“She’s struggling financially, Olga…”
“Struggling?” Olga snapped, losing her patience. “She’s exploiting us! She turned our home into her own private hotel!”
“I can’t throw her out,” Mikhail said weakly.
“You can’t?” Olga’s voice shook with fury. “And what about me and our children? Must we tolerate her disrespect and lies?”
Mikhail lowered his head, defeated.
“Fine. If you can’t handle this, then I will—and right now.”
The next morning Olga confronted Nastya directly in the kitchen.
“We need to talk.”
“About what exactly?” Nastya replied arrogantly.
“About your fake flood story,” Olga stated calmly. “I know the truth.”
Nastya’s face turned pale, then red with anger.
“What truth?”
“You’re renting your apartment out, staying here free, and lying to cover debts.”
“So what?” Nastya sneered defiantly. “Those are my personal affairs. Mikhail understands perfectly.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Olga firmly corrected her. “We’ve discussed this. Pack your things and leave today.”
“How dare you!” Nastya exploded. “This is my brother’s home!”
“But not yours,” Olga replied coldly, gathering Nastya’s belongings despite her protests.
Mikhail hesitated, trying half-heartedly to intervene, but Olga refused to relent. Ignoring Nastya’s furious shouting, Olga placed her bags outside the front door.
“You’ve gone too far!” Nastya yelled.
“No,” Olga replied calmly. “You went too far when you decided to deceive and use us.”
The door slammed shut, leaving a heavy silence behind. Olga felt immediate relief but knew another difficult talk awaited her with Mikhail.
That evening, Olga and Mikhail faced each other awkwardly.
“Do you think this was fair?” she asked bitterly. “Three months of chaos and deception, and now I’m the villain?”
Mikhail looked guilty, ashamed.
“She’s my sister. How could I refuse her?”
“How could you watch her destroy our life, our home?” Olga retorted, emotional but firm. “Helping family doesn’t mean sacrificing our own well-being.”
Mikhail finally nodded, accepting her words.
“You’re right. I messed up badly. Forgive me. I promise, never again.”
Olga sighed deeply. “I hope you’ve truly learned from this.”
In the following weeks, Olga reclaimed her home, throwing out reminders of Nastya’s stay, feeling lighter each time. Mikhail helped, aware of how badly he’d let Olga down.
Soon, their home felt peaceful again, comfortable, free of tension. The children returned happily to their own room, and the apartment was once again theirs alone.
A month later, Mikhail mentioned cautiously:
“Nastya wants to visit, just to talk.”
Olga merely smiled coolly. “She can call if she wants. But she’ll never enter this home again.”
Mikhail nodded, accepting her decision. Later, Olga heard through mutual friends that Nastya complained bitterly, calling her selfish and heartless. But Olga simply shrugged, unconcerned.
“Let them say whatever they wish. I finally learned to set boundaries, and from now on, my terms come first.”