When the doorbell rang, I had no idea that in an hour my life would be turned upside down. The people at the door smiled so warmly that I was confused — after all, we weren’t selling anything. Then it turned out that my mother-in-law, Valentina Petrovna, had decided to dispose of our apartment without telling us a word. But let me start from the beginning.
My relationship with my husband’s mother had been disastrous since the very first days we met. Valentina Petrovna considered me arrogant, since I grew up in a family of academics. My parents were candidates of science, true Soviet intellectuals of the old school. But all of my achievements were the result of my own work
