Victoria, don’t worry, sweetheart! Linda won’t get anything! All the money will stay in our family.

Victoria froze mid-sentence. “What do you mean?” “Well, what do you think? We’ll sell the apartment, buy a place for you and Emily. Your father and I need a new car — the old one is falling apart. We’ll put the rest aside and start saving for a country house.”

“Here’s what you’ve cooked again? This is completely inedible! Pure slop! Even pigs are fed better!” Evelyn Thompson grumbled, pushing the bowl of soup away in disgust.

Victoria snatched the plate right from under her grandmother’s nose. “Where are you taking that? Have you lost your mind? Are you going to leave me hungry?!” “If you don’t like it, I’ll eat it myself,” Victoria snapped back. “Or you can cook whatever you want. Yourself! With your own golden hands. I’m tired and I’m not touching the stove today.”

Evelyn Thompson pursed her lips. Her indignant gaze darted from her granddaughter to the plate and back again.

“Fine,” she finally squeezed out, “I’ll eat what there is. I don’t feel like messing around in the kitchen today either.”

Victoria set the plate down with a loud clatter. “That’s what I thought, Grandma. Calling it slop…”

Evelyn Thompson gave her a look that could curdle milk in seconds, then suddenly broke into a sly smile. “Why aren’t you having any yourself? Is it really that terrible?” “Grandma, if I take this plate away now, you’ll stay hungry until morning, I swear!”

Evelyn Thompson grabbed the edge of the dish with both hands. “But seriously, why aren’t you eating?” “I tasted so much while cooking that I can’t even look at food anymore.”

The old woman snorted, satisfied with the answer, and started eating. Victoria went to her room.

She dropped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. A smile involuntarily spread across her lips — what an impossible old lady, absolutely impossible!

Yet the two of them were ridiculously alike: both sharp-tongued, prickly, and strong-willed. They knew exactly how to get under each other’s skin so it would sting for a whole week. But they always made up quickly and easily, as if nothing had happened.

With her own children, things had been different for Evelyn Thompson. Victoria glanced at the old photograph: Grandma, Dad, and Aunt Linda. All young and smiling.

Aunt Linda hadn’t crossed the threshold of this house in almost ten years. She didn’t even call. Dad passed on greetings and the usual “how is her health” through Victoria.

Her mother and sister visited twice a year — at Christmas and on Grandma’s birthday. Half an hour of strained conversation, and then they were gone.

“At least she has me,” Victoria thought, and that thought brought both warmth and bitterness.

Grandma was fading. Her strength was leaving her, her health was crumbling. But Victoria stayed by her side.

Spring arrived. Sunlight flooded the room and birds sang outside the window. Evelyn Thompson passed away quietly in her sleep, as if she had simply decided to rest. Forever…

After the funeral, when the relatives had left, the notary read the will. The apartment was left to her beloved granddaughter — the one who had stayed with her until the very end.

The three-bedroom flat in the historic center of London turned out to be far too big for one person. Victoria kept catching herself cooking for two out of habit. She would set out two cups and fill them. Then she would freeze in the middle of the kitchen as the realization hit her.

“Grandma, do you want sugar or not?” she once blurted out, and the silence that answered nearly knocked her off her feet.

Grandma was gone. But the apartment still breathed with her presence: every corner, every object, every crack in the old wooden floor. Here was where she used to sit in her favorite armchair. There was where she would shout that the soup was too salty. On this shelf still stood her glasses, which Victoria had never put away.

Evelyn Thompson had had a difficult character, that was true. But Victoria had loved her. Perhaps the only one in the whole family who truly loved her, not out of duty.

That evening she took out her grandmother’s embroidery. An unfinished piece: roses, half red and half still white, waiting for their thread. Victoria had never embroidered before, but it felt important to finish it.

An hour of struggle, pricked fingertips, threads that tangled on purpose. Her nerves were frayed, but she didn’t give up. Stitch by stitch, crooked and clumsy, but done.

The doorbell rang so unexpectedly that Victoria jumped and pricked herself again. On the threshold stood Aunt Linda.

“Vicky, darling!” Her aunt pulled her into a tight hug. “How are you holding up? Managing? Staying strong?” “Yes, I’m fine,” Victoria answered automatically, while thinking: ten years of silence and suddenly all this concern?

They went into the kitchen. Victoria put the kettle on and took out two cups — this time deliberately. Aunt Linda looked around the apartment with a sharp, appraising gaze.

“Listen, Vicky,” she began, sipping her tea, “when are you planning to sell?” “Sell what?” “The apartment, of course! What else?”

Victoria slowly set her cup down. “Why would I sell a three-bedroom apartment in the historic center with a view of the square?” “How else are we going to divide the money?” Her aunt shrugged as casually as if they were talking about something trivial. “What money? Divide between whom?” “Surely you didn’t think, my dear, that such an expensive apartment would go to you alone?” Aunt Linda smiled condescendingly. “There’s a will. Grandma left the apartment to me.” “Oh, come on!” Her aunt waved her hand dismissively. “The will is just the ramblings of her confused mind. Mum wasn’t herself anymore. You understand.” “Grandma was completely lucid until her last day!” “Vicky, don’t make it complicated. We’re family. We need to divide the property fairly.” “I’m not selling the apartment!”

Aunt Linda’s expression changed instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch from “kind relative” to something else. “What a cheeky girl you are! You only think about yourself! Who’s going to take care of the family? Such property should be shared among everyone!”

She jumped up, nearly knocking over her cup, and stormed into the hallway. Victoria remained seated, stunned by what had just happened.

When the shock subsided a little, Victoria grabbed her phone and called her mother. “Mum, you won’t believe what just happened! Aunt Linda came over demanding I sell the apartment and split the money!”

“What?!” Her mother gasped in outrage. “What a snake! Why does she think she’s entitled to anything? She hasn’t shown her face in ten years and now she crawls back?” “Exactly! It was awful — she yelled at me and called me selfish…” “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Linda won’t get anything. All the money will stay in our family.”

There was a long pause on the line. “Mum,” Victoria said slowly, as if explaining something obvious, “the apartment is mine! According to the will! Grandma left it to me!” “Oh, stop it!” Her mother laughed. “You’re not going to leave your sister with nothing, are you? I didn’t raise you to be that heartless. Emily has just finished university, she has nowhere to live, and you…” “I’m the one who lived with Grandma!” Victoria exploded. “I took care of her! I cooked, cleaned, took her to doctors while the rest of you pretended she didn’t exist! And now you want to take what she left me?!” “Victoria, watch your tone!” “And did you watch over Grandma? Did any of you call to ask how she was doing? Did you ever come just because, not only for holidays?” “How dare you…”

Victoria hung up. She paced around the apartment in circles, unable to stop, talking to her grandmother: “Grandma, look what’s happening! They’ve swooped in like vultures! Aunt Linda, my own mother… They all want this apartment. But you left it to me! To me! Why don’t they understand?”

There was no answer. Only the old wall clock kept ticking.

Victoria exhausted herself so much by nightfall that she fell asleep fully dressed. In her dream she saw her grandmother: alive, stern, wearing her favorite robe. “Don’t let anyone put their hands on this apartment,” she said, looking her granddaughter straight in the eyes. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare!”

The doorbell jolted her awake. Still half-asleep, Victoria opened the door and saw her mother, father, and younger sister Emily standing there. “We need to talk,” her mother declared, pushing her way inside. “Vicky, understand, we’re family…” “You don’t need such a big apartment by yourself!” Emily chimed in. “I have nowhere to live!” “A will is just a piece of paper,” her mother said, trying to appeal to guilt. “You have to think about those who are still alive! About your sister, about us and your father.” “We need a car. Emily needs a place to live. And you’re sitting alone in a three-bedroom apartment! You’re not selfish, are you, sweetheart?”

Victoria looked at the people who were supposed to be her family. And she didn’t recognize them at all. “No,” she said calmly. “I’m not selfish. But I’m also not a naïve girl you can pressure with guilt. This apartment is my inheritance! Grandma left it to me because I was there for her. You weren’t!” “Vicky!…” “Get out! All three of you! This apartment is mine! Whether you like it or not.”

The door closed behind them. Victoria exhaled. It seemed she was beginning to understand why her grandmother hadn’t been particularly upset that no one in the family truly loved her.

Whether the “relatives” accepted her firm refusal, time would tell. But Victoria was certain she would not back down…