The relatives laughed at me for looking after “poor old Auntie.” Their faces stretched long when the will was read, leaving me all her fortunethree houses and everything else.
“Off to see your rich lady again?” The voice of my cousin, Svetlana, dripped poison as I buttoned my coat in the hallway.
I stayed silent. There was no point answering. This was their morning ritual.
“Leave her be, Sveta,” came Aunt Alevtinas lazy drawl from the sitting room. “Shes busy with her charity work.”
Their laughter rang out, sharp and rehearsed.
“I just promised Aunt Lizzie Id help seal the windows before winter.”
“Those windows were sealed back in ’47,” Svetlana scoffed, stepping into the corridor. “Wasting your youth on an old crone who wont even leave you her moth-eaten tights. Now thats a talent.”
Her eyes raked over me, judging my plain coat and worn shoes.
“Not everyones after an inheritance, Sveta.”
“Oh really? What *are* you after, then? Spiritual enlightenment from scrubbing floors in a council flat?”
I picked up my baggroceries for Elizabeth Igorevna and the new book shed asked for.
“My goal is to help someone I care about.”
“Care about?” Aunt Alevtina shrieked, appearing in the doorway, her face twisted with old resentment. “That dear woman sold Grandads cottageour family retreatto buy herself a shoebox in the city! Shes never given a penny to anyone!”
There it wasthe root of their hatred. The dacha in the pine woods, built by Grandad for the whole family. Elizabeth Igorevna, as the eldest, took ownership after his death and sold it. To them, it was betrayal.
I studied their faces, warped by greed and spite. Theyd never tried to understand her reasons.
They didnt care about the bond I shared with my great-aunt. Her sharp wit, her wry humor, her storiesnone of it mattered to them.
All they saw was an old woman in a faded housecoat.
I saw the person who taught me to read, who showed me constellations and the songs of birds.
“Youll see,” Svetlana hissed as I left. “Shell leave her flat to some cult. And youll be left with nothing but your precious *holiness*.”
The door slammed behind me, cutting off their voices.
Elizabeth Igorevnas flat greeted me with the scent of dried herbs and old books. Simple, immaculately clean.
She sat at the table, bent over a large map of the Cornish coast. Beside it lay documents, a tablet glowing with charts.
“Ah, Kitty, youre here,” she said, eyes brightening. “Ive been hard at work.”
“Whats this?” I nodded at the map.
“Oh, just sorting out old holdings,” she said, smiling slyly. “Paperwork tedium.”
She folded the map, tucking away the files, but not before I caught “lease agreement” and “land registry.”
“Did the relatives put on another show?” she asked, reading my mood effortlessly.
I shrugged.
“They count every penny, Kitty. But they miss what matters. Ah welltheir loss.”
She took the book Id brought, her face lighting up.
“Thank you, dear. Youre the only one who knows what I really need.”
Weeks later, the phone rang. Aunt Alevtinas voice oozed syrup.
“Kitty, darling! Hows our dear Elizabeth Igorevna?”
I stiffened.
“Shes well, thank you.”
“I was thinking Svetas friend, an estate agent, is interested in properties in that area. We ought to help dear Lizzie with her affairs. Make sure everythings in order. He could pop byfree consultation. We wouldnt want her *swindled*.”
“I dont think she needs help.”
“Oh, but shes *elderly*! You should ask about the will, for instance. Family ought to look out for each other.”
Nausea rose in my throat.
“I wont be asking. Goodbye.”
At my next visit, Elizabeth Igorevna was unsettled.
“A man came by,” she said. “Claimed he was a surveyor for an insurance firm. Said the wiring here was outdatedneeded a risk assessment. But his questions like an inquisition. Ownership, accounts, relatives”
I froze, plates in hand. Alevtinas scheme was subtler than Id thought.
“He asked who visits, how often. Kept hinting that the elderly get *exploited*. As if preparing me for something.”
As I washed up, Elizabeth Igorevna took a call. Her tone was crisp, authoritative.
“No, Mr. Archibald, we wont raise rents mid-season. People budgeted for this. Reputations worth more than quick profit.”
She hung up, catching my puzzled look with a wink.
“Business, Kitty. Small ventures.”
She offered no more, and I didnt press.
The breaking point came on my birthday. I stopped by that evening. Elizabeth Igorevna met me with troubled eyes. A full teacup sat untouched on the table.
“Sveta visited,” she said quietly. “Sent her regards. *Indirectly*.”
She avoided my gaze.
“What did she say?”
“That you complain about me. That youre tired. That youre *counting the days*” Her voice wavered.
“She said you mock me behind my back. That youre just after money”
Theyd struck at the heart of itour trust.
Something inside me snapped. The kindness, the patiencegone. Only cold clarity remained. *Enough.*
I took Elizabeth Igorevnas icy hand.
“You know its lies.”
She looked up, eyes wet.
“I do, Kitty. But it *hurts* After what happened with your grandfather”
For the first time, she spoke of it.
“When he died, Alevtinas husband demanded his share. *Immediately*. My money was tied up in land near St Ives. I begged for a year. He refused. The cottage or nothing. So I gave it. And Alevtina told everyone Id *stolen* it.”
Now it made sense. Their hatred thrived on lies theyd crafted themselves.
“Theyre not worth your tears,” I said firmly. “And I wont let them hurt you again.”
The decision was made. No more playing the victim.
Next day, I called Aunt Alevtina.
“Aunt Al, about that clarity you wanted. Elizabeth Igorevna isnt well. Shes putting affairs in order. Come tomorrow, seven sharp. Bring Sveta.”
“Shes decided something?” Greed trembled in her voice.
“She has. Youll find it *very* interesting.”
At seven, the doorbell chimed. Alevtina and Sveta swept in, triumphant.
Elizabeth Igorevna sat calmly at the table. I stood beside her. Across from them, a stranger in a suitMr. Archibald.
“Good evening,” he said. “Please sit. Elizabeth Igorevna wishes to make a formal statement regarding her assets.”
“What assets?” Sveta sneered.
“Elizabeth Igorevna is sole owner of three freehold cottages in St Ives. She also holds an investment portfolio valued at” He paused. “Roughly twenty times the worth of your current residence.”
Svetas face went slack.
“Thisthis is a mistake,” Alevtina whispered.
“I lived as I pleased,” Elizabeth Igorevna said coolly. “I never cared for show. Money prefers silence.”
Mr. Archibald continued.
“Elizabeth Igorevna is signing over all aforementioned assetsincluding this flat and financial holdingsto her great-niece, Kitty Demetriovna. Management of her business interests will also transfer.”
He handed me the documents.
“But*why her*?!” Sveta screeched.
“Family, dear,” Elizabeth Igorevna said, “isnt those who wait for you to die to divide your things. Family is who brings you medicine in the night.”
She looked at me, warmth in her eyes.
“Kitty saw the person, not the pensioner. She never asked for a thing. So she gets everything.”
I signed without hesitation.
“This is illegal!” Alevtina screamed. “Well sue!”
“All documents are notarized,” Mr. Archibald said smoothly. “We also have recordings of your surveyors visit and every threatening call. Attempted fraud against an elderly person.”
He closed the file. Final.
“You did this to yourselves,” I said, holding the door open. “With your greed and lies. *Leave*.”
They went silently. Crushed.
Elizabeth Igorevna hugged me tight.
“Well, Kitty. Now
