— Well, it’s late. We’ll leave it at that for now. Go get some sleep.
The morning was clear and frosty; puddles outside had frozen over. Shura, used to waking up early, quietly went down to the first floor. In the kitchen, combined with a spacious dining room into one bright space, the housekeeper was already busy. The coffee machine hummed softly, and there was a smell of toasted bread. The master of the house sat at the round table, looking at a tablet; in front of him was a plate with leftover omelet and an empty glass.
— There are no available caregivers, we’ll have to wait a couple more days, maybe someone will become free.
Galina Vasilyevna, without turning around, answered confidently:
— Don’t rush things, Kirill Borisovich, we’re managing just fine for now. Sashenka is a smart, quiet girl, used to working. Lizonka likes her, she’s really come to life.
Noticing Shura frozen at the entrance, Kirill Borisovich said cheerfully:
— Sasha, good morning, did you sleep well?
— Yes, thank you, it’s very warm here, — Shura blushed for some reason, not knowing what to do with her hands.
At that moment, Liza ran into the dining room. She looked stronger, with a healthy blush on her cheeks. The girl immediately rushed to Shura and hugged her tightly around the waist.
— Papa, Sasha isn’t leaving today, is she? We didn’t finish talking about the puppy yesterday.
Kirill Borisovich watched this scene attentively, and a shadow of gratitude flickered in his eyes.
— Sasha, I’m asking you to stay with my daughter for one more day, — he tilted his head slightly. — I see Liza is happy to have you. I will, of course, pay you, as we agreed. I won’t be stingy.
— It’s no trouble, — Shura nodded, stroking the girl’s head.
Kirill Borisovich stood up, grabbed his jacket, and walked quickly to the exit.
— Galina Vasilyevna, I’m leaving. If anything, call me, I’m available.
A minute later, the sound of a car driving away was heard. The girl smiled and ruffled the happy Liza’s hair. Then they sat down to have breakfast together.
It was about four in the afternoon, but it was already getting dark outside like in winter. The noise downstairs started suddenly. Shura, who was reading a fairy tale to Liza in the nursery, flinched at the slam of the front door, sharp voices in raised tones, and heavy stomping on the parquet floor. Something shattered with a clang downstairs, and a painfully familiar hoarse laugh made her heart clench into an icy knot. Leaving Liza on the bed, Shura ran out to the staircase and froze, gripping the railing.
In the hall, looking around with greedy delight, stood Uncle Vitya and his two overgrown sons—her cousins.
— Now this is what I call living! — her uncle spat right on the carpet and gestured briefly to his sons toward the housekeeper, who was pressed against the wall…
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