My husband wasn’t in the hallway or in the parking lot outside the school. My phone didn’t show any missed calls from him either. My heart felt heavy with anger and frustration toward Yaroslav.
Meanwhile, the girls were sitting on a bench in the courtyard. Both looked gloomy, as if carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, their eyes fixed on the ground, not daring to meet mine. Though Polina sensed my approach right away and whispered something to her sister, making them both look even more dejected, as if on cue. Such sly little foxes!
“Don’t you two have anything to tell me?” I asked sternly as I got closer.
They immediately hunched their shoulders and said in unison:
“We won’t do it again…”
The picture of remorse, no doubt about it. But knowing their personalities as well as I do, I could confidently say the opposite: they will. And how!
In the principal’s office, I was angry. When my husband didn’t show up, I was angry. While making excuses to Angelina Petrovna, I was angry. But the moment I stood next to my daughters, all that anger seemed to vanish. All that remained was disappointment.
“Alright, let’s go, you poor things,” I waved my hand.
Polya and Alya jumped to their feet in an instant, grabbed their backpacks, and started bouncing around me. It was as if that moment of self-pity never happened. Little actresses!
In the car, I tried calling my husband again, but the same robotic voice dashed all my hopes. No answer, out of range. I didn’t bother calling the clinic again. If he can’t talk, fine. We’ll discuss everything at home.
As soon as I pulled onto the main highway, the girls, who had been quiet in the back seat, perked up:
“Did the old hag give you a hard time?” Polya, as always, couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
“Who?”
Alya hissed at her sister.
“Our principal,” the twins said, their faces turning red.
Bright red, instantly, the way only true redheads can.
“Ah, so that’s the nickname they’ve given Angelina Petrovna,” I thought to myself. “Well, I won’t say it’s unfair.”
“Yeah, pretty hard,” I answered honestly, not sugarcoating it.
The girls let out heavy sighs.
“Will you forgive us, Mom?” Alya asked, her eyebrows knitting together in a pleading look.
Polya made a dramatic face:
“Yeah, yeah, forgive us, Mom.”
“It all happened by accident, and it was just so dumb.”
“Uh-huh. Plus, no one was supposed to get caught. But then…” At my stern look, Polya clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.”
So much for feeling guilty about what they did. At least they didn’t start making empty promises like “we won’t do it again.” They haven’t learned to lie convincingly yet, and I hope they never will.
“You’re such a blabbermouth!” Alya snapped.
“That’s not even true!”
“I wouldn’t take you on as my Watson!” Alya continued to scold her sister. “You’d ruin the whole investigation.”
“I wouldn’t ruin it!” Polya argued. “And what did I even say? It’s just Mom.”
Alya crossed her arms and pointedly turned away. Polya mirrored her pose, staring out the other window. They even huffed in sync, loud, fierce, and offended.
Watching them through the rearview mirror, I couldn’t hold back a smile.
“So, where’d you get the cockroaches?”
“From the biology lab,” Alya answered, her eyes gleaming.
No matter how much the girls sulked, they were dying to share their “epic feats.”
“The lizard too?”
“Nah. We found the lizard behind our house when we were out walking in the evening,” Polya chimed in.
“And you weren’t scared?”
“Nah, it was dead,” my daughter grinned. “What’s there to be afraid of now?”
I shuddered with disgust. I’m wary even of domesticated animals, let alone wild ones.
My reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the girls. They immediately burst into laughter:
“Wow, Mom, seriously!”
“You’re such a scaredy-cat!”
I let them have their laugh, then decided it was time for a serious talk:
“Girls, Angelina Petrovna told me something you need to know about too.”
My little sunshines quieted down, perking up their ears.
“If you keep breaking the rules, the principal will just…”
“What?” they leaned forward eagerly.
“Expel you and transfer you to a regular public school.”
Fear, confusion, and shock flashed across the girls’ faces. The prospect must have genuinely scared them. Of course, they’d already gotten used to the school, even in such a short time. They’d made friends, planned to join clubs… They liked the busy schedule of the academy, and I liked the opportunities that awaited them after graduating from this place.
Though both Yaroslav and I went to regular schools, and it didn’t hold us back in life at all. Look at my husband—he became a successful dentist and businessman. But nowadays, academies and specialized schools are all the rage.
“We don’t want to leave the academy!”
“You don’t?” I asked, narrowing my eyes slyly.
The twins, wide-eyed and innocent, shook their heads no.
“Then it’s all up to you. You need to study hard and behave.”
“We will,” Alina promised.
“We’ll try,” Polina said, closer to the truth.
My clever girls!
For now, those answers satisfied me. I don’t like making a fuss over nothing. When it comes to parenting, I lean more toward democratic principles, letting the girls grow up as free individuals.
If there’s a problem to solve, we just talk it out openly. And it works. I hope it’ll keep working in the future.
Trusting relationships in a family are so important. I grew up in that kind of atmosphere, and I want the girls to feel no pressure from me, to grow and develop as freely as possible, embracing their unique traits.
“I believe you can do it.”
From that tiny bit of praise, my daughters’ faces lit up brighter than the sun. Good kids listen to kind words, while naughty ones aren’t even scared of a stick.
“Thanks, Mom!”
“We won’t let you down!”
“I believe you, I believe you,” I laughed.
The girls relaxed and switched topics, taking turns telling me about their day and what homework they had for tomorrow.
Like me when I was young, they loved learning new things. Honestly, their thirst for knowledge really drew me in.
Soon, I turned on a kids’ radio station, and we spent the drive home singing along to cheerful songs together.
As soon as we got home, the girls raced upstairs to change, wash their hands, and unpack their backpacks. While they were busy, I set the table. After lunch, my daughters dashed off to do their homework.
I stayed behind to reign over the pots and pans. It was time to start on dinner.
For the main dish, I settled on rabbit in a white sauce. This recipe makes the meat tender, appetizing, and incredibly tasty. Most importantly, it’s healthy—rabbit is considered a lean, diet-friendly meat that’s easy on the stomach.
Once I put the dish in the oven, I moved on to dessert. Today, I decided to make cheesecake muffins. The girls absolutely adored them, and I never minded spoiling my family with homemade baked goods and treats. Is it really that hard for me?
For a side, I chose steamed vegetables, loaded everything into the steamer, and finally stepped away from the counter. Just then, Polya and Alya popped into the kitchen.
“Mom, can we go play outside? Marusya already brought out a ball, and the boys are playing dodgeball without us!”
“Finished your homework?”
“Yup,” Alya nodded seriously. Polina, on the other hand, smirked proudly and waved her hand:
“Pfft, it was nothing. Easy peasy!”
Our house was in a gated, upscale community, so I wasn’t worried about letting the girls play outside with the neighborhood kids.
“Go ahead, of course,” I replied with a smile at their goofy faces. “But be back by eight. Dad will be home, and we’ll have dinner together.”
The girls quickly promised to be on time and bolted out the door, kicking up a breeze in the hallway.
I set the table in advance and stepped outside to tend to the garden beds while it was still light. We had a sizable plot of land. Around the house, we’d planted a fruit orchard, an alpine rock garden with a small fountain, a gazebo, and wide swings.
I’d insisted on a section for greens, medicinal herbs, and basic vegetables. I love working with the soil, caring for plants, watching a tiny seed grow into a full-fledged crop, and, of course, harvesting my own produce. You could say it’s where I find peace for my soul. Just a rose garden and flower beds aren’t enough for me anymore.
I eagerly awaited the harvest. The sun warmed my back nicely, not as intense as in summer, but still gentle. So, I worked plenty until it started to get dark. When I returned to the house and took a shower, I felt a pleasant exhaustion in my arms and legs.
The meat was done and just finishing in the oven. I arranged the steamed vegetables in a deep dish, drizzling them with olive oil and lemon juice for a tangy kick. I portioned the batter into muffin tins; I’d bake them right before we sat down to eat. The dessert would have time to cook and cool off.
The girls burst into the house like a fiery, unstoppable whirlwind. Disheveled, flushed, and delighted.
“Are we on time?”
“Where’s Dad?” Polya pouted.
Yeah, where is he?
I checked my phone: eight-thirty. By this time, we’re usually already having dinner.
“Probably running late,” I offered as an explanation. “Go change, freshen up, and come back down.”
The girls obediently raced off to follow the next set of instructions. I frowned as I checked my phone again. No missed calls, and he hadn’t called back. I dialed him once more and got the same operator message—my subscriber was still out of network range. Strange.
I called the clinic, hoping to catch Anita, but no one answered. Of course, their workday ends at seven, maybe seven-thirty at the latest. Yar sometimes stayed late with a difficult client, but he always let me know in advance. But today…
A tight knot of unease formed in my chest.
Could something have happened?
“Mom? Mom!” Polya tugged at my sleeve insistently. “Are you not hearing me?”
And honestly, I was so lost in my thoughts and fears that I didn’t notice the girls had come back downstairs and were demanding my attention. I stood there like a statue.
“Did you need something, honey?”
“I’m hungry,” my daughter said.
“Me too.”
Alya and Polya rarely agreed on anything, but right now, they showed surprising unity.
“Well, then sit down at the table quick!” I commanded. “Let’s eat dinner.”
What am I doing, really? So what if he’s late? Maybe he’s on his way, and his phone just isn’t working. Stuff happens. And here I am, panicking over nothing! Making the kids go hungry, too.
“Without Dad?!”
There was so much sacred horror in Alina’s look that I couldn’t hold back my amusement and burst out laughing.
“Are you suggesting we go on strike and starve ourselves until he gets here?” I said with a wink.
“I suggest we eat everything and leave nothing for him!” Polya said with a sly grin. “If you’re late, you miss out! Mmm… smells so yummy!”
Alya shook her head but then raced after us with a laugh as Polya and I turned it into a race to the dining room.
After dinner, the girls went up to their bedroom. Polya, as usual, would probably start playing on her iPad, while Alya would rewatch episodes of Sherlock.
As for me, I couldn’t swallow a bite, so worried was I about Yaroslav. I didn’t even touch my portion, constantly glancing toward the hallway to see if the head of the family, who was running late, was hurrying in. But he didn’t show up.
To keep my mind and hands busy for a while, I washed the dishes by hand, leaving the dishwasher idle. Then I started puttering around the kitchen, only stopping when it was time to put the girls to bed.
Our bedtime routine in the girls’ room usually ended with a story. The three of us would make up a magical tale, and after that, my little sunshines would fall asleep.
Only in their company did the world seem brighter to me. Being with my daughters always made me forget about any troubles. That’s the miraculous effect kids have.
In Polya and Alya’s room, a dim nightlight stayed on. Even though the girls often insisted they were almost grown up, they still asked for the light to be left on. Which I get—I’m a grown twenty-six-year-old woman, and I still flinch every time I find myself in pitch darkness. Who knows what might be lurking there besides fears and an overactive imagination?
Though, to be honest, I’ve never felt scared with Yaroslav around.
Heading downstairs, I checked my phone again and tried calling my husband—still no luck. I had to find something else to occupy myself with.
The uncertainty was terrifying, and inaction and helplessness could just about kill me.
Soon, my kitchen sparkled with perfect cleanliness, and the fridge was stocked with prepped meals for a full breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was like I was planning to feed an entire army tomorrow.
By midnight, I was so exhausted I could barely stand. I sat down for a moment and couldn’t get back up from the chair. It was like I was glued to it. My body refused to obey, but my mind… it was running at full speed. Images of what might have happened to Yaroslav kept flashing before my eyes, each one more horrifying than the last!
At a quarter past midnight, I was ready to howl at the walls in despair and seriously considered calling every hospital and morgue. But I didn’t have to.
A few minutes later, I heard the sound I’d been waiting for all this time.
Yaroslav had come home.