Margarita stood frozen as Lena glided in, refreshed her lipstick, and acted like she owned the place. “Coffee, please?” she said with a smile.

Zinaida lit up around her. “You look stunning, Lenochka! What did you get Kolya?”

“A laptop,” Lena replied smugly, rattling off specs and price.

Margarita, humiliated, retreated to the kitchen. But it didn’t stop.

“Oh no, Zinaida Pavlovna,” Lena scoffed from the living room. “What is this table? We should’ve gone to a restaurant.”

Then Zinaida, with theatrical disdain, began throwing Margarita’s food into the trash. “Redo the table! This is disgraceful.”

That’s when Margarita snapped.

“What are you doing?!” she cried.

“If you hate it here, then leave—and take your favorite ex-daughter-in-law with you!”

Zinaida slapped her across the face. Margarita, shaking, punched back—right in the nose.

Zinaida howled. “Kolya! Help! She’s gone mad!”

When Nikolai finally ran in, Margarita saw it: Lena’s lipstick smeared across his face.

“Oh, I see,” she said coldly. “So when did she manage that? While I was cooking your dinner?”

“Margo, don’t start,” he muttered. “Lena just said happy birthday.”

“Right,” Margarita sneered. “Some birthday wish.”

She tore off her apron and tossed it at him.

“You two celebrate without me. You’ve got your perfect little family.”

She walked away, leaving the mess—and them—behind.

Her suitcase was nearly packed anyway.