Victoria could already hear the yelling echoing from the apartment as she stepped onto the landing.
It was all too familiar. Tiresomely predictable.

“You worthless drunk! When will your throat finally tear apart?” shouted Nina Petrovna, her voice reverberating through the hallway as she tore into her husband—Victoria’s father.

Victoria slipped quickly into her bedroom, muttering to herself, “Unbelievable—it’s not even one o’clock and he’s already drunk again. He outdoes himself every time.”

There was no reply from her father. As usual. He was a quiet, unassuming man—an alcoholic, yes, but never violent. His silence during his wife's rage had become routine, a part of the household's soundtrack.

After another bout of shouting, Nina Petrovna opened her daughter’s door, pretending like nothing had happened.

“Vic, you’re home already? You want lunch?”

“No thanks, Mom. I ate at school. I’ll wait for Daniel.”

Daniel—Victoria’s older brother—was interning at a local energy company. Serious, focused, and determined, Daniel was everything their father used to be before alcohol took over. Victoria, finishing her last year of school with top grades, had her sights set on university.

Their mother often proclaimed with pride (and a touch of bitterness), “Thank God the children take after me.”
But both Victoria and Daniel knew better, though they kept it to themselves. The truth was, their father had once been highly educated and respectable—until the drinking began. Their mother’s ceaseless anger and control only fueled the downward spiral.

That afternoon, Victoria tried to study, but her mother’s voice, shrill and unrelenting, filled the house again. She often wondered where her mother found the energy to scream so endlessly. It seemed like yelling had become her oxygen.

Sometimes, Victoria dreamed of just one full day of peace—no shouting, no tension. Just stillness.
That dream came true much sooner than expected.

In early autumn, her father died.
He was found lying quietly on a park bench by strangers. Sober. A heart attack. No one had heard him call out, and no one had seen him suffer. He had died as silently as he had lived the last decade. Daniel and Victoria understood: he didn’t want to come home. Home meant shouting.

Even so, Victoria didn’t blame her mother. Living with an alcoholic wears anyone down. But Nina Petrovna’s grief was complicated. At the funeral, she cried—but it seemed more like rage than sorrow. As if he had abandoned her deliberately, refusing to give her a final word.

Just days after the funeral, Daniel announced he was moving across the country—to Vladivostok—for a job. Their mother was furious.

“You’re abandoning us during the hardest time!” she snapped.
But Daniel was unmoved.

He didn’t even let Victoria see him off at the airport. Instead, he came to her room that morning, hugged her tight, and whispered:

“Vic, do yourself a favor. When you finish university, get out. As far as possible.”

She was stunned. “But Mom will be alone...”

“Maybe if she hadn’t pushed Dad the way she did, she wouldn’t be alone now.”

“He drank constantly, Daniel. What was she supposed to do?”

“You were too young to remember. Her nagging started before he ever picked up the bottle. Anyway... I hope you never fully understand what I mean.”

After he left, silence settled in. But not for long.

Soon, Victoria became her mother’s new target.

When Victoria started dating Maxim, a senior student from university, things escalated. One night, she came home late after a walk.

Her mother was waiting. Fuming.

“Out gallivanting while I sit here alone?! What kind of daughter does that after all we’ve been through?!”

“Mom, I called you…”

“You called? You selfish girl! You don’t think about me at all!”

Victoria swallowed her frustration and blamed herself. She tried being more present. Stopped staying out late. But it made no difference.

“You call this soup? You never add the sautéed onions at the start! And look how you’re slicing the bread! Do you even have hands?!”

Victoria realized her mother seemed invigorated after yelling. It energized her, as if rage were fuel.

By her final year, Victoria agreed to marry Maxim. Not because he was perfect—he was kind, yes, but aimless and overly agreeable. She just needed a way out.

But her escape plan backfired.

Maxim got along too well with Nina Petrovna. He even suggested they move in with her after the wedding.

“Are you serious?” Victoria snapped. “We planned to rent our own place!”

“Your mom says it's foolish to waste money on rent. And honestly, she’s really nice!”

Victoria felt trapped, the cage of her home tightening. But how could she argue? Her mother was on her best behavior—charming, generous, almost maternal.

That changed right after the wedding.

“Is this how you make a bed? I have to teach you like a child!”

Maxim chuckled at first. He thought it was just a mother teaching her daughter.
Until Nina turned on him too.

“Out till ten? You think that’s acceptable for a married man?”

She began policing his schedule, checking his phone, interrogating him about his friends.

Maxim cracked.

Victoria tried to intervene, and was met with a lecture.

“I'm protecting your marriage, you silly girl. He’s handsome—he’ll stray if you don’t watch him!”

But Maxim didn’t stray. He left.

He slowly started staying over at his parents’. Eventually, his stuff was gone. One day, he was simply gone.

Nina exploded.

“The nerve! He snuck off while I was next door? Let’s go drag him back!”

“No, Mom,” Victoria finally raised her voice. “This is my marriage. My life. I’ll handle it.”

But there was nothing to fix.

They met at a café. Maxim was polite but firm.

“I filed for divorce. Your mom… she’s controlling everything. She asked for my phone password, Vic. I couldn’t breathe.”

He was right, and she knew it. Their marriage hadn’t been based on love—just desperation.

A few weeks after the divorce, Victoria discovered she was pregnant.

She told Maxim. He asked her to terminate.

“I’ve moved on. I'm seeing someone new. You’ve got a great job. Think about your future.”

Oddly, it was Nina Petrovna who opposed it.

“I’ll help with the baby,” she declared. “Your career can wait.”

Victoria kept the child. A daughter—Sophia.

She adored her. And while she continued her career via remote work, Nina assumed the role of primary caregiver.

But it was déjà vu.

“Go do your little job, money-maker. Let me handle Sophia!”

When Victoria tried to spend time with her daughter, Nina would scold her away.

“Shh! She’s sleeping! Go grocery shopping instead!”

Sophia, still small, began calling Nina “Mom.”
Victoria cried all night.

Eventually, Sophia started preschool, and Victoria returned to the office. There, she met Roman, a regional manager from Moscow.

He was different. Grounded. Compassionate.

Soon, they were in love. With Roman, Victoria finally felt seen.

She opened up about everything. He knew something was wrong—he had seen how her mother called her dozens of times a day. How every meeting had to be squeezed into working hours.

“I want to meet her,” Roman said.

Victoria hesitated. Her mother had once accepted Maxim—but things were different now.

Roman came for dinner. Nina Petrovna smiled politely but dismissed him coldly once he left.

“Some fly-by-night Muscovite? He’ll leave you high and dry. You have a child—you don’t need a man, you need stability!”

“I’m marrying him, Mom,” Victoria lied. “He’s staying in our city.”

Nina Petrovna faked a fainting spell.
“You didn’t even ask me? I raised your daughter for you! You're taking her away?!”

“I’m not taking her far.”

In truth, Victoria had arranged a job transfer. She and Roman were moving to Moscow.

At the wedding—an intimate dinner, no frills—her brother Daniel showed up.

“I told you to leave right after school,” he said.

She pulled him aside.

“I lied to Mom. We’re leaving in two days. She’ll never accept it.”

“I’ll help,” he said. “Lie all you want. Just go.”

Two days later, as she packed, Nina Petrovna begged and bargained.

“Why take Sophia? Let her stay with me! Roman will be back here soon, right?”

“Exactly, Mom. He just wants to show us Moscow.”

Daniel backed her up.

“Let them go. I’ll stay with you a few more days.”

After Victoria left, Nina called every day, furious.

“You kidnapped my granddaughter! What kind of daughter are you?! I’ll die, and it’ll be your fault!”

Victoria stopped answering. Only voice messages.

Then, one day, Nina called with unexpected calm.

“Vic, I met someone. A kind widower. Thought I'd never fall in love again, but here I am…”

“I’m happy for you, Mom.”

She hung up and turned to Roman.

“Well,” Victoria said with a crooked smile, “That