— We don’t need you here. You’re a stranger.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Maxime opened the bank’s application, found the card, and pressed « Block ». He confirmed.
It was done.
The apartment was transferred into Oksana’s name three weeks later. She got it all sorted quickly: paperwork, notary, registration. Her parents signed with relief. Soon, their daughter would take out a loan, buy a house, and everything would be fine.
Except that no credit was taken.
Oksana sold the apartment in a week. She claimed to have invested the money in a bakery. A franchise, a proven model, supposedly profitable in six months.
The parents believed her.
They were put in a two-room apartment they rented in the suburbs — cramped, with damp corners. Oksana and her husband took the large room, and left the small one to their parents.
« It’s temporary, until the business starts up, » the girl explained.
But the business never took off. The bakery collapsed in two months. Oksana panicked, took out microloans one after another, but nothing worked.
When everything went up in smoke, it was discovered that she also had debts. Significant ones. And no longer enough to pay the rent.
The owner gave them three days to leave.
Semion Pavlovitch then remembered the card. The one Maxime had given them. Their son always sent money; perhaps he had saved some up. Enough to pay for a room, tickets.
He went to the ATM and inserted the card.
« Card blocked. Please contact your bank. »
He stayed in front of the screen for a long time. Then he picked up the map and went home.
When he told Vera Ivanovna everything, she didn’t cry. She simply sat down and said:
— Oksana emptied our accounts too. Our pensions. I had given her access so she could pay the bills for us.
The father nodded.
— And now?
Vera Ivanovna raised her head.
— We’re going to Maxime’s.
They stood on his doorstep: the mother with a worn bag, the father with a small suitcase. Both aged, exhausted, lost in this building with a concierge and a security code.
— Come in, — said Maxime, stepping aside.
They passed without a word. Vera Ivanovna glanced around—large kitchen-living room, large windows. Maxim lived alone, but his apartment was well furnished. She sat on the edge of the sofa without taking off her coat. Her father remained standing by the door.
“Oksana took everything,” the mother began, her eyes downcast. “She sold the apartment, spent the money. The bakery went under. Then we discovered she’d emptied our accounts too. We have nothing left.”
She looked up at him.
— Son, our card is blocked.
Maxime stood near the window, arms crossed.
— I know. I’m the one who blocked her.
Vera Ivanovna froze. The father raised his head.
« You? » repeated the mother. « When?
» « The day you said I was a foreigner. Do you remember? »
She looked away.
“That’s not what I meant… I was upset…
” “You meant exactly what you said,” Maxime interrupted. “I’m useless, I’m a stranger. Oksana, she’s the real one. I’m just paying the price. Well, I stopped. That night.”
Semyon Pavlovich took a step forward.
— Son, we made a mistake. Oksana deceived us. We didn’t know…
— I warned you. But you preferred to listen to her. Because she was there, and I was ‘the outsider’.
Vera Ivanovna closed her hand around the handle of her bag.
“What do you want us to say? That we’re wrong? Yes, we’re wrong! Now you’re going to tell us you won’t help us?”
“I will help you,” Maxime crouched down in front of his mother so she could see his face. “But not in the way you imagine. I’m not just going to put you up and give you money. First, you’re going to face what you’ve done. And you’re going to settle things with Oksana.
” “How? She has nothing left.
” “Yes, she does. She still has something: her reputation. Her job. The image she has with her loved ones. We’ll start there.”
Maxime summoned Oksana. He didn’t ask her—he demanded it.
« Come to Moscow. Your parents are here. We need to talk. »
She arrived two days later. She entered with a guilty, but not broken — rather defensive, expression.
— Maxime, I didn’t do it on purpose… The business went under, I didn’t think…
— Sit down.
Oksana sat down. The parents, on the sofa, were silent witnesses.
Maxime opened a shirt.
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