Matvey answered without boasting, only with determination:
— To the regional prosecutor’s office and to serious media outlets. Today, with evidence.
Zinaida Petrovna looked at him, frightened.
— No, don’t do that, — she whispered. — Here, when you speak up, you pay for it later.
Matvey leaned toward her with respectful firmness.
— Zinaida Petrovna, you’ve been paying the price for years, — he said. — With fear, loneliness, silence. Now we will take what’s ours, with the truth.
Zinaida Petrovna felt something tremble. Gleb quickly opened another screen on his phone. An old photo, kept like a treasure. Blurry, but a newspaper clipping with three identical faces was visible. In the corner—three stars.
— I saved this as soon as I could, — he said quietly. — I didn’t know why, but I saved it.
Denis pressed his lips together.
— Then the story doesn’t start today, — he whispered. — It starts on the day we were erased.
Zinaida Petrovna looked at them and for the first time understood without anyone saying it all. If these men were those children, then the system had not only humiliated her, it had stolen their lives too. And if Rogov was involved, he wasn’t just a gossiping neighbor; he was part of the mechanism.
Matvey hung up the phone and looked at the other two.
— Done, — he said. — They’re on their way.
Gleb swallowed.
— Then there’s no turning back.
Denis looked toward the administration building in the distance, as if at an approaching storm.
— Let whoever is supposed to come, come, — he said. — This time, they won’t separate us.
Not even an hour had passed. The rumor had already spread through several groups, on district pages, in comments filled with venom. And when people smell blood, they become masters of fabrication. Zinaida Petrovna tried to continue working out of pure habit, but her hands were shaking. Every customer who approached had a different look: curiosity, suspicion, a thirst for drama. The stall, which had always been invisible, was now the center of attention. Matvey, Gleb, and Denis stayed close, not making a show of themselves, like a wall.
— They’re coming, — said Denis, looking down the street.
And they came.
Two men in vests with folders, a woman with a tablet. Behind them, a patrol car, slowly, without a siren. Almost like that time, many years ago, only now there were more phones recording. Zinaida Petrovna felt her chest tighten again.
— No, — she whispered.
Matvey leaned toward her.
— Breathe, they won’t crush you today.
The woman in the vest spoke in a bureaucratic voice:
— Zinaida Petrovna, we are here for an inspection. A report of illegal activity, possible money laundering, and obstruction of the passageway.
Zinaida Petrovna opened her mouth, but shame robbed her of her voice.
Gleb stepped forward.
— Money laundering? — he asked calmly. — On what grounds?
The man with the folder held up a printed sheet. The same post with screenshots.
— There’s a report from citizens.
Denis gave a short, cold smirk.
— That’s not a report. It’s gossip.
The police officer shifted, as if expecting a conflict. Matvey raised his hand, calmingly, and spoke without shouting:
— Officer, we are ready to cooperate, but everything will be recorded. And before you touch anything, I want to see a warrant and your full identification.
The man in the vest became nervous.
— There’s no need to react like that, young man.
Matvey looked at him firmly.
— There is, because this woman has been extorted from for many years, — he said. — And this looks like a set-up.
The word “extortion” changed the air. People started whispering louder. The inspectors exchanged glances. At that moment, Rogov appeared at the end of the street. As if the stage were his. He didn’t approach immediately. He just watched confidently.
Denis pointed at him with his chin.
— There’s the one who collects the fees, — he said.
Zinaida Petrovna looked down, trembling.
The woman in the vest frowned.
— What fees?
Gleb took out his phone and showed old messages, names, small transfers, photos of papers without a seal.
— Here, — he said, — monthly payments to avoid being shut down. For the permit.
The inspectors froze. The police officer shifted his stance. Matvey spoke directly:
— We’ve already reported this to the regional prosecutor’s office. They are on their way. If this is legal, great. If it’s a show, it will come crashing down today.
The man with the folder swallowed.
— We don’t necessarily have to wait for anyone…
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