After a visit to his mother, Kirill announces that from now on he will control the family finances. Anna must hand over her bank card and passwords “for the good of the future.”
Anna answers with a calm, final no.
His arguments—rising prices, strategy, responsibility—sound rehearsed. Anna quickly understands where they came from. When she names his mother as the real author of the idea, Kirill explodes, accidentally admitting the truth: the decision may sound like his, but it was planted.
The doorbell rings. Tamara Pavlovna arrives, pretending concern while immediately taking control of the situation. She speaks of tradition, nature, sacrifice—of how women shouldn’t spend money on themselves. Her kindness cracks, turning into open contempt and envy. She accuses Anna of vanity, wastefulness, and of exploiting her son.
Anna says nothing.
She watches Kirill stand behind his mother and silently agree with her insults. One small nod is enough. In that moment, Anna understands everything: this is not a marriage, but a union she will always be outnumbered in. They don’t want partnership—they want obedience. They don’t want her happiness—they want her to become like them.
Without a word, Anna goes to the bedroom. She returns with Kirill’s jacket, wallet, and keys and places them neatly on the table.
“Take your things,” she says calmly.
Then, to his mother: “Take your son and leave.”
There is no shouting. No drama. No justification.
They leave.
Anna sits back down, opens her book, and continues reading—in a quiet that finally belongs only to her.
