There was a special state program for academics that my father used. But in old age, my parents no longer needed such a large place, so they moved into a smaller apartment closer to our home.

My husband, Maxim, never pressed me to discuss the inheritance — I simply couldn’t cross the threshold of my parents’ home without breaking down in tears. Everything there remained untouched, as if time had stopped. On the desk lay my father’s glasses, the ones he wore every evening while reading in his favorite armchair.