— Thank you.
On the day of her discharge, Misha came to pick her up in his car. He helped her pack her things and drove her to his place. His apartment was large, bright, and in the city center.
— Make yourself comfortable, — he said, opening the door to the guest room. — Make yourself at home.
Alisa entered the room, put her bag on the floor, and sat on the bed. The city hummed outside the window. But here, in her brother’s apartment, it was quiet and calm. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
That evening, while they were having dinner in the kitchen, Misha said:
— The investigator has scheduled a confrontation. For you, Denis, and Zoya Pavlovna.
Alisa choked.
— Why?
— Standard procedure. You need to confirm your testimonies in front of each other. Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you.
— When?
— The day after tomorrow.
Alisa didn’t sleep all night. She was afraid of this meeting. Afraid to see their faces again, to hear their voices. But she knew it was necessary. It was another step on the path to freedom. A step through fear and humiliation.
The investigator’s office was small and stuffy. The same gray-haired captain who had interrogated Zoya Pavlovna sat at the desk. Alisa sat in a chair opposite him, with Mikhail beside her. The door opened, and an officer led Denis in. He had lost weight, looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. Seeing Alisa, he flinched and looked away. He sat in a chair by the wall. Zoya Pavlovna was brought in next. She, on the contrary, seemed to have grown wider. Her face was puffy, angry. She looked at Alisa with hatred, then at her son, and sat next to him, pointedly moving her chair away.
— So, — the investigator began, — let’s conduct the confrontation. Citizen Belova, please confirm your testimony. Do you maintain that your husband and mother-in-law forcibly removed you from the vehicle, knowing you were in a life-threatening condition?
— Yes, I confirm, — Alisa said in a steady voice. She looked straight ahead, at the wall with faded posters.
— Citizen Sokolov, what do you have to say about this?
Denis looked up. He looked at Alisa, and his eyes were pleading.
— I… I admit that we left her. But I didn’t want to. It was Mom. She…
— Don’t lie! — Zoya Pavlovna shrieked. — You suggested it yourself! You said she was a faker and needed to be taught a lesson.
— I never said that! — Denis shouted. — You said that! “Die, you beggar”!
— Me?! How dare you, you ungrateful wretch! I dedicated my whole life to you, and you’re throwing me under the bus!
They started screaming at each other, forgetting where they were. The investigator slammed his fist on the table.
— Quiet! You can shout in the courtroom! Citizen Sokolova, do you deny saying those words?
— Of course, I deny it! — she straightened up. — It’s all her invention! — she pointed a finger at Alisa. — She’s getting revenge on me because I was against their marriage!
Mikhail, who had been silent until then, cleared his throat.
— Respected investigator, we have evidence to the contrary.
— What evidence? — Zoya Pavlovna scoffed.
— An audio recording, — Mikhail said calmly. — My sister, sensing trouble, turned on the voice recorder on her phone. The recording was saved to cloud storage. You can very clearly hear both your ultimatum and your parting words.
Zoya Pavlovna froze. Her face slowly began to turn an earthy color. Denis stared from her to Mikhail with his mouth open.
— You… you’re lying! — she stammered.
— We can submit the recording as evidence, — Mikhail offered to the investigator. — An expert analysis will confirm its authenticity.
The investigator nodded.
— Submit it.
Zoya Pavlovna went limp and slid down in her chair. She knew it was over. You can’t argue with a recording.
The confrontation ended quickly. They were taken to separate rooms again. When Alisa and Mikhail went outside, she couldn’t hold back.
— What recording? — she asked. — I didn’t have any recording.
Mikhail smirked.
— I know. But they don’t. It’s called a bluff, little sister. And it worked. Now they’ll be convinced we have a recording and will stop lying. This will greatly strengthen our position in court.
Alisa shook her head. Her brother was a genius.
She returned to his apartment feeling drained, but at the same time, with a sense of relief. She had seen them—broken, scared, pathetic. And she was no longer afraid of them.
The days flowed by. Alisa slowly recovered. She walked a lot, read, and helped Misha around the house. He surrounded her with a kind of care she hadn’t seen from Denis in their entire two years of marriage. He cooked her diet-friendly meals, made sure she took her medicine on time, and in the evenings, they watched movies together or just talked.
— You’ll need to go to your apartment to get your things, — he said one day…
Comments are closed.