Ten-year-old Kirill was amazed when he found a box hidden in an old sofa he had inherited from his grandmother. However, the letter and legal documents inside the box contained even more surprises and helped the boy realise the bitter truth about his family. Kirill was about to make a choice that would determine his future life.
Kirill looked at the slightly worn and stained sofa that his grandmother had left him as an inheritance. He flinched when the movers set it on the floor with a noise.
Brushing away a cloud of dust, the boy moved closer to make sure the couch was intact.
- I’m going to miss Grandma,’ Kirill said quietly, running his fingers over the dark stain he’d left when he’d spilled juice once. Grandma hadn’t been angry at all then, she was more concerned about pouring him more juice than about the damaged furniture.
- Why miss the old hag who left you this junk? – Dad shook his head and kicked the corner of the couch.
- It’s not junk, Dad. It’s a memory of Grandma. I can make money when I grow up, but I can’t make new memories with her.
Dad’s lips curled in a grin, his eyes narrowed.
- ‘She’s done nothing but cause trouble since your mum died. Have you forgotten how my grandmother complained about me to the child welfare authorities? And how she handed you over to that family?
Kirill lowered his head.
- Those people aren’t so bad. They let me come here for a few days because of Grandma’s funeral. I don’t want to go back…I want to live with you.
- We’ll figure it out, son,’ his father ruffled his hair. – I’m going to do everything I can to get you back for good, now that your pesky grandmother is out of the way. You and I will be a family again.
Kirill smiled. He wanted to hug his father, but he had already turned away. His father took a drink out of the fridge, sat down in a chair and switched on the TV.
Kirill sighed. He missed his dad so much, but he had never been as warm as his mum.
Suddenly Kirill felt something hard under the seat of the couch. He jumped up and lifted the cushion. Underneath the fabric was something sewn up.
- There’s something there! – he shouted, but his father didn’t even turn round.
Kirill fetched a pair of scissors and carefully cut the stitches. Underneath the cloth was a box with writing on it:
**”For Kirill.’
–
Kirill smiled sadly as he recognised his grandmother’s handwriting. He carefully cut the scotch tape with scissors and sat down on the couch to examine the contents of the box. Inside he found a sealed envelope, which he set aside, and several folded sheets of legal documents. Then his gaze fell on a letter from his grandmother.
**”Dear Cyril, I’m sorry to force you to make a serious decision at such a young age, but your well-being and future depend on your wisdom. You need to know that your father only came back for the inheritance. I will explain everything, and then you will decide for yourself if he is worthy of your love.’
Cyril frowned. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his father was still engrossed in the television and continued reading.
–
Grandmother Lydia climbed the stairs to her son-in-law’s flat with difficulty. Each step was a struggle, but she had to visit her grandson. A message from a friend of her late daughter’s who lived in the building had made her anxious for Kirill.
After a few minutes of insistent knocking, the door swung open abruptly. On the threshold stood a man with dark circles under his eyes, staggering with fatigue.
- Lydia… what are you doing here? – Yuri muttered in a hoarse voice.
His grandmother almost choked on the smell of alcohol emanating from him.
- I came to see Kirill. Where is he?
- Er…’ Yuri rubbed his chin, clearly confused. – What day is it?
- Tuesday. – Lydia walked into the flat and froze in horror when she saw the mountains of dirty clothes, empty bottles and plastic containers with leftover food. – How do you manage without Oli?
Yuri mumbled something inaudible and reached for the fridge. He pulled out a packet of sausage and, leaving the fridge door open, started making a sandwich.
- Are you really feeding this to Kirill? – Lydia pointed to the shelves filled with ultra-processed foods.
- What’s wrong with this? – Yuri pulled out a box of prepared lunch. – Here, macaroni and cheese. It’s got dairy and carbohydrates. Good for a growing baby.
Lydia shook her head. She’d never understood what her daughter saw in this man, but now was not the time for regrets.
- Yuri, the boy needs fresh fruit, vegetables, proper meat and cereals. I send you money every month to make sure he has everything he needs! And here I hear he’s walking around in tattered clothes and dirty. What’s going on in this house?
Yuri yawned.
- Tattered clothes are a sign of a healthy lifestyle. I’m sure that blabbermouth Tatiana from next door made it all up. Don’t listen to her, Lydia. I know exactly how to raise my son.
- Yeah, you can tell by the empty bottles around your chair and the chaos. When was the last time you did laundry? And-‘ she looked around, noticing the lack of things-’where are Cyril’s toys and sports equipment?
- He’s into electronics. Modern kids are like that.
- But I pay for his football club.
- He didn’t want to go there,’ Yuri said.
Lydia sighed.
- ‘Listen to me, Yuri. You may think I’m an old hag, but I’m not going to let it go. Either you change your behaviour or I’ll make sure that Kirill lives in normal conditions.
–
Back to the present, Cyril finished reading his grandmother’s letter:
**”Please stay with Denisa and Mikhail, Kirill. They love you and will be able to give you what your father cannot. Know that I’ve always loved you, just like your mum. Make the right choice. Love, your grandmother.’
Cyril folded the letter neatly and tucked it into his pocket. He picked up the legal documents and began to read them.
The boy knew he had a difficult decision ahead of him.
