“You’ve been living here for three months already! And haven’t given a single penny!” – my husband’s sister and her husband decided to sit on my neck.

Natalya was wiping dust off the coffee table when she heard the familiar crunch. She looked up and froze. On the dark surface she had just cleaned, new trash had appeared—sunflower seed shells. Her eyes lifted to the couch, where her sister-in-law, Inga, was sprawled.

“Inga, could you please stop making a mess?” Natalya’s voice trembled with restrained irritation. “I just cleaned.”

Inga lazily turned her head without stopping the cracking of seeds.

“Oh, come on, Natasha. Don’t you see I’m resting?” Inga spat another shell directly onto the carpet. “After work, I have the right to relax.”

Natalya clenched the rag in her hand. Three months. A whole three months that Inga and her husband had been living in their two-room apartment. They had promised to stay a week, two at most, until they found a rental. But nothing had changed.

“Inga, you only work a couple of hours every other day,” Natalya tried to speak calmly. “You could at least help with the cleaning.”

“What am I, your maid?” the sister-in-law snorted. “I have my own things to do.”

What things? Natalya knew Inga’s routine perfectly. A few hours of part-time work every other day, the rest of the time—TV shows, complaints about life, and sunflower seeds. Always sunflower seeds.

“Then at least don’t litter,” Natalya bent down and began picking the shells from the carpet. “Is it really that hard to eat over a plate?”

“Ugh, you’re getting on my nerves!” Inga suddenly sat up. “Andrey! Come here!”

Natalya froze on her knees. That’s all she needed. Heavy footsteps came from the bedroom. Andrey appeared in the doorway, disheveled from his afternoon nap.

“What happened?” her husband yawned, rubbing his eyes.

“Your wife is driving me crazy!” Inga jumped up from the couch, scattering the remaining shells. “I’m a guest in my brother’s home, and she’s bossing me around!”

Andrey turned his gaze toward Natalya. She was still kneeling, holding a handful of shells.

“Nata, why are you picking on her?” his voice sounded weary. “Inga is a guest in our house.”

“A guest?” Natalya slowly stood up. “Andrey, they’ve been living with us for three months!”

“So what? Inga is my sister,” Andrey walked up and put his arm around Inga’s shoulders. “They’re having housing problems. We have to help family.”

Natalya looked at her husband and didn’t recognize him. When had he become so indifferent to her feelings?

“Helping is one thing,” she pressed her lips tightly. “But living at my expense is another.”

“At your expense?” Andrey frowned. “This apartment is ours.”

“Yes, but I’m the one who cleans! I’m the one who cooks! I do the laundry! And your darling sister only makes a mess and eats!”

“How dare you!” Inga pulled away from her brother’s embrace. “Andrey, do you hear how she’s talking to me?”

“Natalya, apologize immediately,” her husband stepped forward. “Inga is my sister.”

“I won’t apologize,” Natalya backed up toward the window. “I’m tired of putting up with this piggishness.”

“Then put up with it in silence,” Andrey turned his back. “And don’t you dare insult my sister again.”

He wrapped his arm around Inga’s shoulders and led her to the kitchen. The sister-in-law glanced back and stuck out her tongue at Natalya. The kitchen door shut. Natalya remained alone in the living room, still clutching the handful of seed shells.

Three days passed in complete silence. Natalya moved around the house like a pale shadow. Andrey demonstratively ate with Inga in the kitchen, laughing loudly at some jokes.

On Friday evening, Natalya packed a small bag. Enough. Time to go to her mother’s. At least there, she would be heard.

“Andrey, I’m going to Mom’s for a week,” Natalya said, standing in the kitchen doorway.

Her husband looked up from his bowl of borscht. Inga sat beside him, chewing bread and pretending not to listen.

“Why all of a sudden?” Andrey set down his spoon. “It’s the weekend.”

“I just miss her,” Natalya shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Andrey nodded and picked up his spoon again. Inga kept chewing without even glancing at her sister-in-law. Natalya turned and headed for the door. No one saw her out.

At her parents’ house, the air smelled of pies and fresh laundry. Her mother met her at the threshold and immediately noticed her sad eyes.

“Natushka, what happened?” she asked, hugging her. “You look so sorrowful.”

Over tea, Natalya told everything. About the seeds, the mess, her husband’s indifference. Her mother listened silently, occasionally shaking her head.

“Daughter, you’re too kind,” she sighed. “You can’t let people walk all over you. Not even relatives.”

“But Andrey says Inga is family,” Natalya stirred sugar in her tea. “That we must help.”

“Helping doesn’t mean supporting them,” her mother said sternly. “Three months! They’ve completely lost their shame.”

The week at her parents’ house flew by. Natalya helped in the garden, baked pies, read books. It was quiet and peaceful here. No one reproached her for being petty.

On Sunday morning, she packed her things. Time to return home. Did she want to? Not really. But the apartment was hers too, and she couldn’t run from problems forever.

The key turned heavily in the lock. Natalya entered the hallway and immediately realized something was wrong. The air reeked of stale borscht, dirty dishes, and something sour. She walked into the living room and froze.

The couch was littered with plates containing leftovers. Candy wrappers and empty chip bags covered the floor. The coffee table was covered with crumbs and sticky tea stains.

Natalya stepped into the kitchen. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes. On the stove, a pot with leftover porridge swarmed with flies. She opened the fridge. Empty. Just a jar of mustard and a dried piece of cheese.

“Oh, the hostess is back!” came a sharp voice from behind.

Natalya turned. Inga stood in the doorway, disheveled, in a robe.

“You’ve got some nerve!” the sister-in-law went on, waving her arms. “You took off and didn’t even leave us money for groceries!”

Natalya silently shut the fridge door. Inga came closer, her face red with indignation.

“Andrey and I spent our last money just to get by!” she shouted. “And you were relaxing at Mommy’s!”

“And what did you eat?” Natalya asked calmly.

“Ordering food! Buying ready meals!” Inga flailed her hands. “Do you know how much that costs?”

Natalya stared at her sister-in-law and suddenly realized—this was it. Her patience was gone. Completely. The last drop had spilled over.

“You’ve been living here for three months already!” Natalya shouted so loudly that Inga stepped back. “And haven’t given a single penny! And now you dare complain?!”

Natalya was wiping dust off the coffee table when she heard a familiar crunch. She lifted her head and froze. On the dark surface she had just cleaned, trash had reappeared. Sunflower seed shells. She glanced at the sofa, where Inga, her sister-in-law, sprawled.

— Inga, maybe stop making a mess? — Natalya’s voice trembled with restrained irritation. — I just cleaned.
Her sister-in-law lazily turned her head, still cracking seeds.— Oh, come on, Natasha. Can’t you see I’m resting? — Inga spat another shell right onto the carpet. — After work I have a right to relax.

Natalya clenched the rag in her hand. Three months. A whole three months Inga and her husband had been living in their two-room apartment. They promised to stay a week, two at most, until they found a rental. But they were still there.

— Inga, you only work a couple of hours every other day, — Natalya tried to speak calmly. — You could at least help with the cleaning.

— What am I, your maid? — Inga snorted. — I’ve got my own things to do.

What things? Natalya knew Inga’s schedule perfectly. A couple of hours of side work every other day, the rest of the time — TV series, complaints about life, and sunflower seeds. Always seeds.

— Then at least don’t litter, — Natalya bent down and started gathering shells from the carpet. — Is it really that hard to eat over a plate?

— You’re getting on my nerves! — Inga suddenly sat up. — Andrey! Get over here!

Natalya froze on her knees. Just what she needed. Heavy footsteps came from the bedroom. Andrey appeared in the doorway, disheveled from his afternoon nap.

— What’s going on? — her husband yawned, rubbing his eyes.

— Your wife is driving me crazy! — Inga jumped off the couch, scattering more shells. — I’m a guest at my brother’s, and she’s bossing me around!

Andrey looked at Natalya. She was still kneeling, holding a handful of shells.

— Natasha, why are you picking on her? — his voice sounded weary. — Inga is a guest in our house.

— A guest? — Natalya slowly stood up. — Andrey, they’ve been living here three months!

— So what? Inga is my sister, — Andrey walked over and put his arm around Inga’s shoulders. — They’re having housing troubles, we need to help family.

Natalya looked at her husband and hardly recognized him. When had he become so indifferent to her feelings?

— Helping is one thing, — she pressed her lips together. — But living at my expense is another.

— At your expense? — Andrey frowned. — This apartment is ours.

— Yes, but I’m the one who cleans! — Natalya’s voice broke. — I cook! I do the laundry! And your dear sister just makes a mess and eats!
— How dare you! — Inga pulled away from her brother’s arm. — Andrey, do you hear how she’s talking to me?— Natasha, apologize at once, — her husband stepped forward. — Inga is my sister.

— I won’t, — Natalya backed toward the window. — I’m tired of putting up with this pigsty.

— Then put up with it silently, — Andrey turned his back. — And don’t you dare insult my sister again.

He led Inga into the kitchen with his arm around her shoulders. Inga glanced back and stuck her tongue out at Natalya. The kitchen door closed. Natalya was left alone in the living room, still clutching a handful of seed shells.

For three days silence reigned. Natalya drifted through the apartment like a pale shadow. Andrey ostentatiously ate with Inga in the kitchen, laughing loudly at her jokes.

By Friday evening, Natalya had packed a small bag. Enough. It was time to go to her mother’s. At least there someone would listen.

— Andrey, I’m going to my mom’s for a week, — Natalya said, standing in the kitchen doorway.

Her husband looked up from his bowl of borscht. Inga sat next to him, chewing bread and pretending not to listen.

— Why all of a sudden? — Andrey set down his spoon. — It’s the weekend.

— I just miss her, — Natalya shrugged. — Haven’t seen her in a while.

Andrey nodded and picked his spoon back up. Inga kept chewing, without looking at her sister-in-law. Natalya turned and left. Nobody saw her to the door.

At her parents’ house, the air smelled of pies and fresh laundry. Her mother greeted her at the door, instantly noticing her sad eyes.

— Natasha, what’s wrong? — her mother hugged her. — Your face looks so sorrowful.

Over tea, Natalya told her everything. The seeds, the mess, her husband’s indifference. Her mother listened silently, occasionally shaking her head.

— My dear, you’re too kind, — her mother sighed. — You can’t let people walk all over you. Even relatives.

— But Andrey says Inga is family, — Natalya stirred sugar into her tea. — That we must help.

— Helping doesn’t mean supporting them, — her mother said firmly. — Three months! They’ve lost all shame.

The week at her parents’ house flew by. Natalya helped in the garden, baked pies, read books. It was quiet and peaceful. No one accused her of being petty.

On Sunday morning, Natalya packed her things. Time to return home. Did she want to? Not really. But the apartment was hers, and she couldn’t run from problems forever.

The key turned heavily in the lock. Natalya stepped into the hallway and immediately sensed something was wrong. The air smelled of stale borscht, dirty dishes, something sour. She walked into the living room and froze.

Plates with leftovers littered the couch. Candy wrappers and empty chip bags covered the floor. The coffee table was strewn with crumbs and sticky tea stains.

Natalya went into the kitchen. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes. On the stove sat a pot of porridge, surrounded by flies. She opened the fridge. Empty. Only a jar of mustard and a dried-out piece of cheese.

— Oh, the hostess is back! — came Inga’s sharp voice behind her.

Natalya turned. Inga stood in the doorway, disheveled, in a robe.

— You’ve got some nerve! — the sister-in-law flailed her arms. — You just ran off and didn’t even leave money for groceries!

Natalya silently shut the fridge. Inga came closer, her face red with indignation.

— We spent our last money just to eat! — Inga shouted. — And you were off enjoying yourself at mommy’s!

— And what did you eat? — Natalya asked calmly.

— We ordered food! Bought ready meals! — Inga threw up her hands. — Do you know how much that costs?

Natalya looked at her and suddenly realized — enough. Her patience was gone. The last drop had overflowed the cup.

— You’ve been living here for three months! — Natalya shouted so loudly that Inga backed away. — And haven’t given a single kopeck! And now you’re making demands?!

— How dare you yell at me! — Inga’s face turned purple. — I’m a guest in this house!

— What guest? — Natalya stepped closer. — Guests come for a few days, not live here for months!

— We’re family! — Inga screeched. — We have housing difficulties!

— Difficulties? — Natalya laughed bitterly. — Have you tried working? Renting a room with your own money?

Heavy footsteps came from the living room. Inga’s husband, Pavel, entered in a wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants.

— What’s all the noise? — he muttered, rubbing his unshaven face. — Can’t you talk normally?

— Normally? — Natalya spun toward him. — After you ate all my food and trashed my apartment?
— Look, it’s not on purpose, — Pavel shrugged. — We’ll clean up.— When? — Natalya’s voice shook with outrage. — In three months you haven’t even washed the dishes once!

At that moment Andrey walked into the kitchen, his face annoyed, brows furrowed.

— Natasha, what’s with the yelling? — he asked irritably. — The neighbors will complain.

— Exactly! — Inga chimed in. — Your wife’s gone crazy! Screaming at us like dogs!

Natalya stared at her husband in disbelief. Would he really side with his sister again?

— Andrey, do you see what they’ve done here? — she spread her arms. — The apartment’s a dump!

— So what? — her husband waved dismissively. — We’ll clean. It’s not the end of the world.

— Not the end of the world? — Natalya nearly choked with indignation. — And the empty fridge? I was gone a week! And none of you even bothered to buy groceries!

— Don’t stress, — Andrey walked over to the fridge. — Tomorrow we’ll go shopping.

— With what money? — Natalya was almost crying with anger. — Again I’m supposed to pay for your relatives?!

— Oh, don’t act poor, — Inga sneered. — You always have money, you won’t go broke.

Pavel nodded in agreement.

— Yeah, why so stingy? — he muttered. — Can’t even help family?

— Family? — Natalya exploded. — Who are you to me? Leeches!

— Natasha! — Andrey barked. — How can you talk like that about my relatives?!

— What else should I call them? — she turned to her husband. — They eat my food, live in my apartment, and still complain!

— This is our apartment! — Andrey reminded her. — And my family has the right to live here!

— You’re an ungrateful egoist! — Inga screamed. — You should’ve just stayed with your mommy!

— She’s right, — Andrey backed his sister up. — At least you wouldn’t be here with your tantrums!

Natalya fell silent. The kitchen sank into silence. Andrey, Inga, and Pavel looked at her expectantly. And Natalya suddenly realized — that’s it. Enough. She couldn’t take it anymore.

— Am I in your way? — she asked quietly. — Well, you’re in mine. So get out of my apartment.

The three exchanged bewildered glances. Andrey was the first to recover.

— Natasha, don’t overreact, — he tried soothingly. — Let’s talk calmly…

— Too late for talk, — Natalya walked to the door. — Pack up and leave. All of you.

— Where are we supposed to go? — Inga whimpered.

— I don’t care, — Natalya’s voice was firm. — That’s your problem.

— Natasha, are you serious? — Pavel shook his head in disbelief. — We’re family.

— You’re not my family! And I bought this apartment before marriage! — Natalya cut him off. — You have half an hour to pack.

A strange calm spread through her body. Her hands no longer shook, her voice was steady. For the first time in a long while, she felt no doubt about what she was doing. Something inside had snapped, like a tight spring finally breaking free.

An hour later, Natalya closed the door behind the last of them. The apartment was finally empty. She walked into the living room, sat on the couch, and took a deep breath. At last, she could breathe fully. No one would drag her down again.