Zinaida Petrovna felt her knees weaken, and in her head, like an old echo, three names returned—Matvey, Gleb, Denis. But she didn’t dare believe it yet, because she had already lost too much. And a heart that has lost too much learns not to trust even miracles. The phrase hung between the steam from the pan and the black gleam of the cars. “We didn’t forget you.” Zinaida Petrovna clutched the ladle like a talisman. She looked the three men up and down, trying to find a lie, while her heart clung to a dangerous thought: what if it’s them?
The street had turned into a stage. People were recording on their phones. Some approached shamelessly, others pretended to be buying something just to stay. Matvey, Gleb, and Denis noticed the cameras and, without a word, positioned themselves: one to the right of the stall, one to the left, and one in front, as if to protect her.
Zinaida Petrovna swallowed.
— I… — she tried to speak. — Who are you?
The one in the middle stepped closer. His voice was soft but firm.
— First, if you’ll allow us, — he said, — let’s talk without so many eyes.
Zinaida Petrovna looked around. The stares pierced through her. And then, an old fear returned. The same one as when they took the children. The same fear of protocols, papers, of those in charge. And as if fear had summoned fear, a familiar voice was heard. Venomous. From behind.
— Well, I’ll be! Looks like your luck has turned, Petrovna!
Zinaida Petrovna turned around. Rogov was walking toward them with his usual smile. The kind that doesn’t ask permission to intrude. Hands in his pockets, confident, as if the street still belonged to him. People watched with curiosity. He puffed out his chest.
— How beautiful! — he said, raising his voice slightly. — Helping society, are we? And then comes the reward.
Zinaida Petrovna felt her blood boil.
— Go away, Rogov, — she said dryly.
Rogov smirked.
— I just came to say hello, — he said. — And to ask something.
He looked at the three men.
— Do you own these cars? Because you need permits to park here.
Matvey looked at him without emotion.
— We didn’t come to park, — he said. — We came to see Zinaida Petrovna.
Rogov tilted his head, feigning respect.
— Well, alright, — he said. — Because look, Petrovna, I don’t want people saying I didn’t look out for you. There’s an order here. And if money is involved, you know, there are fees.
Zinaida Petrovna clutched her apron. She knew that word. “Fee” meant extortion with a smile. Gleb stepped toward Rogov, not raising his voice.
— You take fees from an elderly woman? — he asked.
Rogov laughed, pretending it was a trifle.
— Don’t get it twisted, young man, — he said. — I don’t take. I help with the paperwork. Everything is in order here.
Zinaida Petrovna felt anger burn her throat. But before she could speak, Denis, the most serious one, said:
— And you also helped on the day three children were taken away.
The air was cut short. Rogov blinked for a fraction of a second, but Zinaida Petrovna saw it. His smile became stiffer.
— What children? — he asked, pretending. — I don’t remember.
Zinaida Petrovna felt a chill. The triplets exchanged a look, as if confirming an old suspicion.
Matvey spoke calmly:
— But we remember.
People around them began to whisper. Someone brought their phone closer. Rogov raised his hands dramatically.
— Oh no, — he said. — Don’t go pinning everything on me now. I’m a respectable citizen.
Zinaida Petrovna stepped forward, trembling with rage.
— You turned them in, — she said, almost in a whisper. — You brought those people.
Rogov smiled, but now with a sharp edge.
— Petrovna, don’t get into trouble, — he said quietly, just for her. — You’re better off not digging up the past, especially now that money is on the horizon.
That phrase was a blow because it wasn’t just a threat; it was a warning. He saw an opportunity. Matvey heard it too. And his voice became firm, but without shouting.
— There’s no money here. There’s a moral debt. And you won’t pin that on us.
Rogov shrugged, but his gaze darkened.
— Listen, young man, I don’t know who you are, — he said. — But this corner has a boss. And that boss is the law. If I make a call, the inspectors will come. And goodbye stall. And Zinaida Petrovna is too old to go through that.
Zinaida Petrovna felt fear rise like cold water. Because it was true. Every time he wanted, the inspectors appeared.
Gleb leaned toward Zinaida Petrovna.
— Don’t be afraid, — he said quietly. — You’re not alone today.
Zinaida Petrovna looked at him. And that phrase caused her a sweet pain. Because for years, she had been alone. And loneliness makes you submit out of exhaustion.
Denis looked at Rogov dryly.
— If you threaten her again, we will make everything public.
Rogov chuckled briefly.
— Make it public, — he said. — The people here will forget by tomorrow, and you’ll leave. She will stay.
That was the cruelest phrase. Because it was true. Zinaida Petrovna’s life continued here. With or without a miracle.
Matvey stepped closer. And his voice became quiet, dangerous in its calmness.
— We’re not leaving.
Rogov looked at him, sizing him up.
— Oh, you’re not?
Matvey held his gaze.
— We’re not leaving until we fix what you broke.
Rogov pressed his lips together for a second. Then he raised an eyebrow and smiled, like a man who decided to play dirty.
— Then we’ll settle this the easy way or the hard way, — he said, pointing to the administration building in the distance…
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