Grandfather left me an old house in the village in a dilapidated state as an inheritance, while my sister got a two-room apartment in the very center of the city. My husband called me a failure and moved in with my sister. After losing everything I had, I went to the village, and when I entered the house, I was literally struck with amazement…
The room in the notary’s office was stuffy and smelled of old papers. Anna sat on an uncomfortable chair, feeling her palms sweat from nervousness. Beside her sat Elena — her older sister, dressed in an expensive business suit with a perfectly done manicure. It seemed she had come not for the reading of the will, but for an important meeting.
Elena was scrolling through something on her phone screen, occasionally casting indifferent glances at the notary, as if eager to leave. Anna nervously twisted the strap of her worn-out bag. At thirty-four, she still felt like the timid little sister next to confident, successful Elena. Working at the local library was not well-paid, but Anna loved her job and enjoyed it.
However, others treated this profession more like a hobby, especially Elena, who held a position in a large company and earned significantly more than Anna made in a whole year. The notary, an elderly man wearing glasses, cleared his throat and opened a folder with documents. The room grew even quieter. Somewhere on the wall, an old clock ticked softly, emphasizing the tense atmosphere.
Time seemed to slow down. Memories suddenly came to Anna’s mind of how grandfather often said: “The most important things in life happen in silence.”
— The will of Nikolai Ivanovich Morozov, — he began in a monotonous voice that echoed around the small office.
— I bequeath the two-room apartment on Tsentralnaya Street, house 27, apartment 43, together with furniture and household items, to my granddaughter — Elena Viktorovna.
Elena didn’t even lift her eyes from the phone, as if she already knew in advance that she would get the most valuable thing. Her face remained calm and expressionless. Anna felt a familiar pain in her chest. It happened again. Again, she was second.
Elena was always first, always getting the best. In school, she studied excellently, then entered a prestigious university, married a wealthy businessman. She had a stylish apartment, an expensive car, fashionable clothes. And Anna? She always remained in her older sister’s shadow.
— And also, the house in the village Sosnovka with all the buildings, outbuildings, and a twelve-hundred-square-meter plot of land, I bequeath to my granddaughter — Anna Viktorovna, — the notary continued, turning the page.
Anna flinched. A house in the village? The very one, almost falling apart, where grandfather had lived alone in recent years? She remembered it vaguely — had seen it only a few times in childhood. At that time, the house seemed ready to collapse any moment. Peeling paint on the walls, leaking roof, overgrown yard — all caused anxiety.
Elena finally looked away from the screen and glanced at her sister with a slight smirk:
— Well, Anya, you at least got something. Although, honestly — I have no idea what you’ll do with this junk. Maybe you’ll tear it down and sell the land for dachas?
Anna was silent. The words stuck in her throat. Why did grandfather decide this way? Could it be he also considered her a failure who didn’t even need a new house? She wanted to cry but held back — not here, not in front of Elena and that stern notary who looked at her with barely noticeable sympathy.
The notary continued reading formalities, listing the terms of the will. Anna listened distractedly, not fully grasping what was happening. Grandfather had always been a fair man. So why did he now divide the inheritance so unfairly? Finally, the formalities were over. The notary handed each sister the necessary documents and keys.
Elena quickly signed all the papers, neatly placed the keys in her stylish purse, and stood up. Her movements were confident, businesslike.
— I have to go, I have a meeting with clients, — she said without even looking at Anna. — We’ll be in touch. Don’t get too upset — after all, you got at least something.
And she left, leaving behind a light trail of French perfume.
Anna sat in the office for a long time, holding the keys to the village house. They were heavy, iron, rusty at the edges, old-fashioned, with long teeth. Completely unlike the elegant keys Elena received. Outside, her husband — Mikhail — was already waiting. He stood by his worn-out car, smoking and impatiently looking at his watch.
Irritation was clear on his face. As soon as Anna came out, he stubbed out his cigarette with his foot.
— So, what did you get? — he asked without any greeting, not even saying hello. — Hopefully, at least something worthwhile?
Anna slowly told him the contents of the will. With each word, Mikhail’s face grew darker.
When she finished, he just stood silently, then suddenly punched the car hood.
— A house in the village?! Are you serious? You ruined everything again! Your sister gets an apartment downtown worth at least three million, and you — some wreck!
Anna flinched at his rudeness. Earlier, Mikhail rarely swore, but lately, he had become more irritable, especially when it came to money.
— I didn’t choose anything, — she tried to defend herself, her voice trembling. — It was grandfather’s decision.
— But you could have influenced him! Show him that you deserve more! Talk, explain the situation!
— No… You were always too quiet a mouse.
— Always standing aside, incapable of anything. You can’t even get a decent inheritance.
His words cut like a knife. Anna felt tears welling up. Seven years of marriage, and he talks to her as if they were strangers.
— Mikhail, please don’t yell at me. People are watching.
— Maybe we can figure something out with this house? — she quietly suggested, looking around.
— Figure something out? What can you figure out with a wreck in the middle of nowhere? Nobody will give even a hundred thousand for it. Maybe tear it down and sell the land.
Mikhail sharply got into the car, slammed the door loudly, started the engine, and was silent the entire way home, muttering something occasionally. Anna looked out the window and thought about grandfather. Nikolai Ivanovich was a kind, taciturn man. He worked as a tractor driver on a collective farm, then a train engineer, and after retiring, moved to the village Sosnovka.
He said the city was stuffy, but the air was clean in the village, and finally, one could live for oneself. Anna remembered visiting him in the summer as a child. Grandfather taught her to distinguish edible mushrooms from poisonous ones, showed places where strawberries and raspberries grew, talked about birds and animals.
He never raised his voice at her or forced her to do what she didn’t like. He was simply there — kind, calm. Thanks to him, Anna felt needed and significant. Grandfather often repeated:
— You are special, granddaughter. Not like everyone else. You have a delicate soul; you can see beauty where others don’t. It’s a rare gift.
Back then, Anna didn’t understand what he meant. Now those words seemed like cruel mockery. What was special about her if even her own husband considered her a worthless failure? At home, Mikhail immediately turned on the TV and buried himself in the news. Anna went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
While peeling potatoes, she pondered what to do next. Maybe really try to sell the house? Although who would buy a half-ruined house in an abandoned village without proper roads? She remembered that almost no young people were left in Sosnovka — everyone had left except the elderly who refused to leave their native land.
There was no store, and the post office worked once a week. Complete wilderness. During dinner, Mikhail was silent, occasionally glancing at the TV. Anna tried to start a conversation about weekend plans, but he replied shortly and dryly. Finally, he put down his fork and looked at her seriously:
— Anna, I’ve thought a lot today. Our marriage didn’t work out.
— You don’t give me what I want from life.
Anna lifted her eyes from the plate. Her heart was pounding.
— What do you mean?
— I need a woman who will help me succeed. Not someone who works for pennies in a library and inherits some wrecks. I’m 37.
— I want to live well, not save on everything.
— You knew who you were marrying. I never pretended, never hid who I was.
— I know. And that was my mistake. I thought you would become more ambitious, find a good job. But you stayed a gray mouse, content with little.
Anna felt like everything inside her was breaking.
— And what do you suggest?
— Divorce. I’ve already consulted a lawyer. Meanwhile, you can live with friends or in your wonderful village.
The last words he said with such mockery that Anna shuddered. Mikhail got up from the table and headed for the door.
— Wait, — she quietly asked.
— What about everything we had? Seven years together. Our dreams.
— Seven years of mistakes, — he cut her off without turning around.
— By the way, Elena is right — you’re not the one for me. She is a smart, practical woman. Not like…
He didn’t finish, but Anna understood. He meant Elena.
“Of course, Elena. Successful, beautiful, rich Elena. And now with an apartment downtown. So you… you chose her?” Anna barely whispered, feeling cold inside.
— We’ve just been talking a lot lately, — Mikhail answered calmly. — Her husband is often on business trips, she feels lonely. And I find her interesting. We have similar views on life. She understands me.
What does “striving for the best” mean? Anna stayed at the table, looking at the man she had lived beside for seven years. Was this really the same Mikhail who once gave her flowers on her birthday, complimented her, promised to be there always? Now he seemed like a stranger, indifferent, even cruel. Like a mask had fallen from his face, revealing the true nature.
— Pack your things, — he said without a trace of emotion.
— Tomorrow evening, I want you gone for good. I’m registering the apartment in my name; there won’t be any problems.
With those words, he left, leaving Anna alone at the table opposite the cold dinner. She sat, unable to believe what was happening. In one day, she lost everything: hope for a good inheritance, husband, home. Only an old building in an abandoned village remained, about which she remembered almost nothing.
That night, Anna couldn’t sleep. Lying on the couch in the living room — she didn’t have the strength or desire to go to the bedroom — she reflected on her life. Thirty-four years old. What did she have? A job no one valued, a husband who left for her own sister, and a sister who always considered her a failure. And now this mysterious house in the wilderness, about which she knew almost nothing.
She recalled childhood years, rare trips to grandfather. Then the house seemed huge and a little scary. It had many rooms, old furniture, smelled of wood and something unfamiliar. Grandfather took her around the house, telling stories about the past, about those who lived here before. But that was so long ago that the memories had turned into vague, blurry, ghostly images.
— I completely forgot… — Anna whispered, looking at photographs. — I loved coming here. Why did I stop?
She remembered. Elena always found reasons not to visit grandfather. Either plans with friends, exam preparations, or something else important. And the parents didn’t insist, saying the older daughter was already grown and could decide how to spend holidays. Anna stopped asking too — didn’t want to seem intrusive.
And grandfather never complained. He called on holidays, asked about things, always said he was glad to hear from them. But sometimes a sadness sounded in his voice that she didn’t notice then, but now recalled with pain in her heart. Anna carefully put the photos back and closed the drawer.
The house grew quieter, dusk was thickening outside. She felt tired. The day was too heavy, too full. She just wanted to lie down and forget everything for a few hours, not think about a shattered life. Anna returned to the living room for her suitcases and dragged them to the bedroom.
She took out pajamas and essentials, then went to the bathroom. To her surprise, everything was in order — clean towels, soap, even a toothbrush and toothpaste in new packaging.
— Someone clearly prepared for my arrival, — Anna thought. — But who? And why?
After washing and changing, she lay down in grandfather’s bed. The bedding smelled fresh and herbal. The mattress was comfortable, the pillow soft. Anna lay in the dark, listening to the night sounds of the village: somewhere an owl hooted, leaves rustled, a cat purred under the window.
For the first time in many months, she felt safe. No Mikhail with his irritation and reproaches. No Elena with her contemptuous looks. No colleagues who considered her work unimportant. Only silence, peace, and a strange feeling that the house accepted her like family.
— Grandfather… — she whispered into the darkness. — If you can hear me… Thank you. Thank you for leaving me this house. I don’t know what I’ll do with it, but right now it’s the only place where I can be myself.
Sleep came slowly. Thoughts wandered: she’d have to arrange documents, decide whether to stay here or sell the plot. Call work, explain the situation. Start a new life. But all that seemed distant and not so important. Now the main thing — she found refuge.
A place to stop, catch her breath, and figure out what to do next. Grandfather’s house greeted her like an old friend, and for the first time in a long time, Anna felt she was not alone. Falling asleep, she recalled grandfather’s words that she was special. Back then, those words seemed just an expression of an old man’s love for his granddaughter.
Now Anna thought: maybe grandfather really saw something in her that others didn’t? Maybe by leaving her the house, he knew what he was doing?
— Tomorrow, — she promised herself. — Tomorrow I’ll understand everything. Definitely understand.
And with that thought, she finally fell into a deep, peaceful sleep she hadn’t known for a long time.
Anna woke up to bird songs. The morning sun shone outside, and the whole world seemed different — not as gloomy and hopeless as yesterday. She stretched in bed, feeling rested for the first time in months. In the city apartment, cars, neighbors, and construction constantly woke her.
Here there was such silence that only birdsong and leaf rustling could be heard. Anna got up and approached the window. Morning transformed the village — the sun gilded the tree tops, dragonflies danced in the air, somewhere in the distance a cow mooed.
Behind a crooked fence, she saw an overgrown garden. Anna spotted apple trees, pear trees, currant bushes. Everything was overgrown with grass, but under the thickets she could make out neat paths and beds.
— Grandfather worked hard here, — she thought. — And now it’s all forgotten.
She quickly washed, dressed, and went downstairs to the kitchen. Indeed, there were fresh products in the fridge — someone had clearly cared about her arrival. Anna brewed coffee, fried eggs, and sat down to breakfast by the window, admiring the view of the garden.
While eating, she kept thinking about who could have cleaned the house and bought the groceries. Maybe grandfather asked some neighbors to look after the house? Or had a housekeeper? But where would a housekeeper come from in such a wilderness?
After breakfast, Anna decided to thoroughly inspect the house in daylight. Yesterday she was too tired to pay attention to details. She started with the living room, carefully examining the furniture, pictures on the walls, trinkets on shelves.
Old photographs hung on the walls in frames — grandfather in his youth, his parents, some relatives Anna didn’t remember. One photo especially caught her eye. It showed this very house many years ago. It looked new and well-kept, with blooming flowerbeds and neat paths around it.
People in festive clothes stood near the house — probably grandfather’s family.
— What a beautiful house it was! — Anna muttered. — And what a wonderful garden!
Continuing the inspection, she noticed antique dishes in the cupboard — porcelain plates with patterns, crystal glasses, silver spoons. Everything was cared for and polished. In the drawers of the dresser lay yellowed letters, documents, other papers grandfather had kept for years.
Anna reached the sofa and suddenly stopped. Something was unusual about it. It stood a bit oddly — not parallel to the wall, but at an angle. As if it had been recently moved and not quite put back properly. She approached and noticed one pillow lay differently than the others.
Carefully lifting it, Anna gasped. Under the pillow lay a white envelope. On it, in grandfather’s handwriting, was written:
“To my beloved granddaughter Anechka.”
Her heart raced. Anna took the envelope with trembling hands. It was sealed, but the seal was old — clearly the letter had been here for a long time. Carefully opening the envelope, she pulled out a sheet of paper folded into quarters. The handwriting was unmistakably grandfather’s — neat, old-fashioned, with characteristic curls.
Anna unfolded the letter and began reading:
“Dear my Anechka. If you are reading this letter, it means I’m no longer here, and you have come to our house. I knew you would come. I knew it would be you, not Elena. Because you were always special, and I saw it. You must be wondering why I left you the old house, and Elena the apartment. You probably think I was unfair to you. But believe me, granddaughter, I left you much more than any apartment. Remember how you asked me about treasures in childhood? You always dreamed of finding treasures buried by pirates or robbers…”
Anna paused, rereading the last lines. Her heart beat so loudly she could clearly hear it in her chest.
“A treasure?” she thought. Grandfather was talking about a real treasure?
She continued reading:
“I spent my whole life collecting what I leave to you. I gathered bit by bit, hiding it from everyone. Even your grandmother, may she rest in peace, did not know the whole truth. I worked not only as a tractor driver and train engineer. I had another business that no one suspected. After the war, many families left villages, moving to cities. They sold or simply abandoned their homes along with their belongings.
I bought valuable things from them for pennies — antique jewelry, coins, items made of precious metals. At the time, almost no one understood their true value. Later I sold these items in the city to collectors and antique dealers. But the most valuable I kept for myself. Gold jewelry, old coins, precious stones — all this I hid and saved for you.”
“Because I knew you were the only one in our family who would understand that real treasures are not money, but memory, history, and connection to ancestors. My treasure is buried in the yard, under the old apple tree — the very one where we sat together, and I told you stories. Dig one meter deep, one and a half meters from the trunk, towards the house. There you will find a metal box.”
“Anechka, this treasure is your real inheritance. What will help you start a new life, become independent, fulfill your dreams. But remember: wealth should make a person better, not worse. Don’t become like Elena, for whom money is more important than family and human relationships. I love you, my dear granddaughter. I hope you forgive your old grandfather this little trick. Your grandfather Nikolai.”
Anna finished reading the letter and just sat there, holding the paper. A treasure. A real treasure buried in the yard. Grandfather had spent his whole life collecting treasures and hid them especially for her.
— It can’t be… — she whispered. — This must be a joke.
But the handwriting was unmistakably grandfather’s, the paper worn and old, and the details in the letter too precise. He really knew her character, remembered their long-ago talks about treasures. And the very apple tree in the yard — the one where they sat. Anna looked out the window. Behind the house stood an old sprawling tree — the largest in the garden. Under its branches was a bench where she once sat as a child, listening to grandfather’s stories.
“One and a half meters from the trunk towards the house,” she repeated the words from the letter.
“Depth — one meter.”
Her hands trembled with excitement. What if it was true? What if grandfather really left her a treasure?
But even if so — where to get a shovel? What would neighbors think if they saw her digging in the yard?
Anna went out onto the porch and looked around. Neighboring houses were barely visible — most were empty. The only sign of life was smoke from one chimney about two hundred meters away. From there, her plot was not visible.
Walking around the house, she found a shed. The door creaked but gave way. Inside were old gardening tools — shovels, rakes, hoes. All rusty but usable. She took one shovel and headed toward the apple tree.
Approaching the tree, she reread the letter: “One and a half meters from the trunk, towards the house.” Anna measured the required distance in steps, stood in the indicated spot, and stuck the shovel into the ground. The soil was soft, loose. Probably there used to be a flower bed or vegetable patch.
Anna began digging carefully so as not to damage anything. The work went slowly — physical labor was unfamiliar to her. After half an hour, her hands and back were already sore, but she did not stop. The hole deepened, but no sign of a find appeared.
“Maybe grandfather was wrong about the coordinates?” she thought and tried digging slightly to the left, then slightly to the right. The soil was the same everywhere — ordinary garden earth with roots and small stones.
An hour passed. Then two.
Anna was sweating, tired, her hands covered in blisters. But she did not give up.
Grandfather couldn’t have lied to her. He was an honest man. If he wrote about a treasure — then the treasure existed.
Suddenly, the shovel struck something hard.
Anna froze. Then cautiously started clearing the earth with her hands. Under the layer of soil, the edge of a metal object appeared.
— Got it! — she exclaimed and began digging with doubled energy.
In a few minutes, the box was completely freed. It turned out to be small — about thirty by forty centimeters, heavy, obviously containing something inside. The lid was tightly closed but not locked. Anna carefully pulled it out of the hole and put it on the grass.
Her heart pounded as if it wanted to jump out of her chest. She slowly lifted the lid and froze.
The box was filled to the brim with gold. Gold jewelry, coins, ingots. The metal shone in the sun with all shades of yellow. Anna had never seen so much gold at once.
She carefully took one piece of jewelry — a massive gold necklace with precious stones. It was heavy, cold, genuine. Then she took a handful of coins — old, with unfamiliar inscriptions and images. Some were clearly very ancient.
There were also gold rings, bracelets, earrings, pendants in the box.
Everything was carefully wrapped in soft cloth so they wouldn’t damage each other.
Grandfather had clearly collected this collection for a long time with love.
Anna sat on the grass by the box, unable to believe her eyes.
She really found a treasure.
A real one, like in children’s fairy tales.
And it now belonged to her.
— How much could this be worth? — she whispered, looking at the jewelry.
— A million? Two? Three?
She tried to estimate. The gold in the box weighed two or three kilograms. Gold prices were high now. Plus the antique value of the pieces. Plus precious stones.
— It’s a fortune, — she said aloud. — I’m rich. I’m really rich.
The realization did not come immediately. First, there was shock at the find. Then surprise, joy. Then a slow understanding of what it meant.
She was no longer dependent on Mikhail.
No need to endure his humiliation.
No need to look for a rented room.
She could buy an apartment — any one she wanted.
She could travel.
Study.
Do what she liked.
Help others.
Live the way she always dreamed.
— Grandfather… — she whispered, looking up at the sky. — Thank you. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for this treasure.
Carefully putting the jewelry back, she closed the lid. She had to hide the treasure in the house until she decided what to do. Find an appraiser. Find out the exact value. Arrange everything properly legally.
But the main thing — she had to get used to the idea that her life had changed drastically.
Just yesterday, she was a forsaken woman who had nothing but an old house in an abandoned village.
And today, she became the owner of a real fortune.
Anna lifted the heavy box and carried it into the house. In the hallway, she thought about where to hide it best. Finally, she placed it in the bedroom — in the closet, behind the clothes.
After hiding the treasure, she sat on the bed and took out her phone.
On the screen were several missed calls from an unknown number and one message from Mikhail:
“When will you pick up the rest of your things?”
Anna smiled.
Just yesterday, such a message would have thrown her off balance, made her feel guilty. But today it seemed funny.
Mikhail didn’t know what had happened.
Didn’t know who his ex-wife had become.
She didn’t reply.
Instead, she called work and reported that she was taking an unpaid leave indefinitely. The librarian was surprised but didn’t ask questions — Anna was a responsible employee and had the right to rest.
Then she went online and started searching for information on how to appraise antique jewelry and how to legally sell such valuables.
Anna found several organizations in the regional center specializing in these issues, noted their contacts to call in the morning. The day flew by unnoticed. She kept checking the box in the closet was still there. She couldn’t believe — was it really true? Had she really found the family treasure? In the evening, she reread grandfather’s letter.
She was especially touched by the part that said wealth should help a person become better, not worse. Grandfather was wise and understood that money was only a tool, not a goal itself.
—I won’t become like Elena, — Anna promised herself. — I won’t forget where this wealth came from and who left it to me. I must justify grandfather’s trust.
The night passed peacefully. Anna slept soundly and saw kind dreams. In the dream, grandfather came to her, smiled, and said he was proud of her, that he knew she wouldn’t let him down.
The next morning, she woke up with clear thoughts and plans. The first thing was to determine the value of the find.
Then she had to decide whether to sell everything at once or in parts, how to arrange documents properly, what taxes she would have to pay.
She called one of the firms specializing in antique appraisal. The specialist agreed to come to Sosnovka tomorrow. Anna warned that the collection was large and valuable, so an experienced expert was needed.
“Tomorrow it will become clearer,” she told herself.
“Tomorrow I’ll find out how rich I am.” Meanwhile, she decided to take care of the house and garden. Now that she had funds, she could turn this place into a real family hearth — the way it had been, judging by old photos.
Grandfather gave her not just a treasure — he gave her a chance to start a new life.
The next morning, exactly at 10, a foreign car arrived at the house. A middle-aged man in a strict suit with a briefcase — Sergey Vladimirovich Kozlov, an antique expert from the regional center — got out.
“Anna Viktorovna?” — he asked, approaching the gate.
“Yes, that’s me. We agreed about the collection appraisal.”
He looked around the house attentively, noted the antique furniture, and nodded approvingly. The belongings were well kept.
“Where is the collection itself?” asked the expert.
Anna led him to the bedroom, took the box from the closet, placed it on the table, and carefully opened the lid.
Sergey Vladimirovich whistled in surprise.
“Oh my God! Where did this come from in the village?” he muttered.
“This is grandfather’s inheritance,” Anna replied. “He collected it all his life.”
The expert put on gloves and began carefully extracting the jewelry one by one.
He examined each piece through a magnifying glass, checked stamps, weighed on scales. Worked silently, only occasionally making notes in a notebook.
Finally, he said:
“This is a unique collection. It includes items from different eras. This necklace — 18th century, handmade. The coins are also very valuable, especially the Byzantine ones — they are extremely rare.”
Anna listened breathlessly. With every word, her heart beat faster.
“And how much could this all be worth?” she couldn’t help asking.
The expert put down the magnifier and looked seriously at her:
“I can only name the exact amount after lab analysis. But preliminarily — only the gold here weighs more than three kilograms. Plus stones: emeralds, rubies, sapphires. And significant antique value of some items. Approximately — no less than 15 million rubles. Possibly more. Some items may be worth a fortune at auction.”
Anna felt dizzy.
“15 million… That’s much more than she imagined. With this money, she could buy several city apartments, a good house, a car, ensure a comfortable life.”
“Do you want to sell the collection?” asked the expert.
“My company cooperates with serious buyers. We can organize an auction or find private collectors.”
Anna shook her head:
“No, I’m not ready yet. I need time to think.”
“I understand,” said the expert. “But I advise you not to keep such valuables at home. Better — a bank safe or special storage.”
He left his business card and preliminary report.
When he left, Anna sat in the kitchen for a long time, drinking tea and digesting what she heard.
15 million. She was not just rich — she was incredibly rich.
But for some reason, she felt no joy. Only anxiety. Big money — big responsibility. Grandfather was right: wealth should make a person better.
“What now?” she asked aloud.
How to manage this inheritance?
The first thought was to restore the house and garden. Make this place what it once was — a home full of life and warmth.
Second — help those in need. The village had lonely elderly people who had it hard. She could help with groceries, medicine, repairs.
And as for her personal life — Anna realized she didn’t want to return to the city. Here, in Sosnovka, she felt inner peace she never knew in the city bustle.
Maybe she should stay here forever?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. The screen showed Mikhail’s number. Anna hesitated but answered.
“Hi, how are you?” came his voice.
“Fine,” she answered briefly. “What do you want?”
“Listen, maybe we rushed the divorce? Maybe we should discuss everything again?” he said unexpectedly.
Anna was surprised. A few days ago, he had kicked her out of the apartment, calling her a failure. And now he was proposing reconciliation.
“Where did that change come from?” she asked.
“I realized I was wrong. I yelled, was rude. You’re not to blame for how grandfather divided the inheritance. And the house in the village isn’t so bad. You can make a summer house, relax in summer.”
Anna smiled. It was clear — Mikhail was up to something.
“And what do you propose?” she asked.
“Come back. Forget everything. Start over. The house can be rented to vacationers — will bring income.”
“And did you happen to discuss this idea with Elena?” Anna continued.
Pause.
“Well… she may have mentioned something,” he answered uncertainly.
Anna understood. Elena probably learned about the district development plans or rising land prices. And now she and Mikhail wanted to get her back to control the real estate.
“And if I don’t want to come back?” she asked.
“Don’t be silly. What will you do alone in the village? There’s no work, no shops, no civilization… You’re a city girl.”
“Maybe not a city girl,” Anna replied. “Maybe I like it here.”
Mikhail tried to persuade her further, offering children, moving, a better apartment. But Anna listened and marveled how she hadn’t noticed the falseness in his words before. Every offer sounded staged. He spoke not out of love, but out of greed.
“Alright, I’ll think about it,” she said calmly.
After the call, she laughed for a long time.
“Misses me, he says… The man who kicked me out now misses and offers family.”
The next day, Elena called. Anna expected the call.
“Anya, hi! How are you settling in the village?” her sister began sweetly.
“Fine. And you?”
“How’s the apartment?”
“Good. You’re not calling just like that, right?”
“Mikhail said you made up. I’m very glad!” Elena said.
Anna snorted mentally but kept calm externally:
“Not made up yet. Discussing possibilities.”
“I see, you’re hurt because of Mikhail. But nothing serious happened between us,” Elena tried to justify herself.
“Then why are you calling?” Anna asked directly.
“I want to help. I found out — they plan to build a cottage settlement in your area. Your plot can become much more valuable.”
“So that’s it,” Anna thought. Elena hoped to get part of the inheritance.
“I propose: I handle the sale. I have contacts in realtor companies. We find a good client, sell it at a high price. Split the proceeds — you get half, I get half for work.”
Anna almost laughed. Elena offered her half the price of her own plot, considering it generosity.
“And if I don’t want to sell?” Anna asked.
“Don’t be silly. What will you do with that wreck? Live in the city, buy a normal apartment with the money,” Elena replied.
“Elena, did you happen to discuss all this with Mikhail?” Anna asked directly.
“Well… maybe I mentioned,” her sister answered, trying to sound casual.
“I see. But it’s in your interest. We just want to help you,” she added.
“Yes, I understand everything,” Anna replied dryly. “I’ll think about it. Just don’t delay. While construction hasn’t started, you really can make money. After that, prices may fall.”
After talking with Elena, Anna finally understood what was happening: Mikhail and her sister thought she was a naive woman easy to trick. Their plan was simple: bring her back to the city, get control of the house and land, sell the land profitably, leaving her crumbs.
“How wrong you are,” she said aloud. “And how very wrong.”
Anna opened the closet, took out the box with grandfather’s treasures, and again carefully examined each item. Every piece was a true work of art, every coin a piece of history. Grandfather had collected this beauty all his life. Now it all belonged to her.
“I won’t give a single thing to Mikhail and Elena,” she decided firmly. “Neither jewelry, nor house, nor land. They will get nothing.”
A week later, Mikhail came to Sosnovka. Anna saw his car from the window and went out to meet him. He looked confident and even pleased.
“Hi, Anya!” he smiled broadly and tried to hug his ex-wife, but she stepped back.
“Why did you come?”
“For you, of course! I already miss you. Get ready — we’re going home.”
“Who said I agreed?”
“Enough whining. Look how you live. In what a wilderness! And the house is so shabby.” Mikhail looked at the yard with obvious dissatisfaction. “Although the plot is not bad. Elena’s right — something interesting can be built here.”
“What if I say I like it here? That I want to stay?”
He laughed.
“Don’t be silly. What will you do here? What will you live on? You have no money.”
“How do you know whether I have money or not?”
“Anya, you worked as a librarian for twenty thousand rubles a month. What money?”
“Maybe I saved a little for a rainy day.”
“But it won’t last long.” Anna smiled.
“What if I say I now have more money than you can imagine?”
“Where would they come from? You only got this house from grandpa.”
“Only the house,” she agreed. “But grandpa turned out to be wiser than we thought.”
Anna told him about the treasure. At first, Mikhail didn’t believe, then laughed, but when he realized she was serious, he turned pale.
“How much?” he demanded.
“15 million rubles. Maybe even more.”
Mikhail was silent for several minutes, then spoke in a soft tone:
“Anya, you understand that such money must be invested properly? I can help. I have business experience. We can start a business together, develop.”
“Remember what you said to me a week ago?” Anna interrupted.
“About me being a failure? That was an emotional outburst, I didn’t mean it.”
“And remember how you kicked me out? Told me to pack?”
“Anya, let’s forget the past. Start over. With this money, we can do anything.”
Anna looked at him with pity.
“You know, Mikhail, I really loved you. Thought you were a good person. But you turned out greedy and calculating.”
“You mean…”
“That a week ago you thought I was a failure, and today, learning about the money, you consider me worthy of your love again. That’s not love — it’s greed.”
Mikhail tried to argue, but Anna no longer listened.
“Tell me, do you really want to be with me? Or with my money?”
“Anya, you can’t do this. We lived together for seven years.”
“Those seven years showed who you really are.”
She turned and went into the house. Mikhail ran after her, shouting, begging, threatening. But she didn’t even look back. At the gate, she stopped and coldly said:
“Get off my property. Don’t come here anymore. We’ll finalize the divorce in court.”
“You’ll regret this!” he shouted. “Such money can’t be kept by one woman. There are people worse than me.”
“Maybe,” Anna answered calmly. “But that will be my problem. And you — leave.”
Mikhail shouted a little more, then got into the car and left, slamming the door loudly. Anna went inside and felt incredible relief. That chapter of her life was over. No more humiliation, no more excuses, no more feeling worthless. She was free.
Later that evening, Elena called. Her voice was irritated.
“Mikhail told me about your find,” she started without preamble. “You think you’re so smart?”
“Smart enough not to let myself be fooled,” Anna answered calmly.
“Do you even remember who always helped you? Who supported you? Me — the older sister. I have a right to the inheritance.”
“Elena, grandfather left you an apartment. Me — a house. Each got what he chose. He didn’t know about the treasure. If he had known, he would have divided it equally.”
“The treasure was on the plot. So it’s mine. You must share. We’re sisters.”
“Sisters,” Anna agreed. “But do you remember how you treated me all my life? How you called me a failure? How you rejoiced when I got the worst things?”
“That’s a different matter.”
“No, it’s the same. You always got the best and considered it fair. And now that I got lucky, you demand to share. That doesn’t happen, Elena.”
“I’ll sue. Prove the will was made with violations.”
“Sue,” Anna said calmly. “But keep in mind: now I have money for good lawyers.”
Elena grumbled some more and angrily hung up. Anna turned off the phone and went out to the garden. The sun was setting behind the trees, painting the sky golden and pink. Birds sang, flowers and freshness smelled.
“Grandfather,” she whispered, “thank you for everything. For the house, the treasure, the chance to start a new life. And for teaching me to distinguish real people from fake ones.”
She took out her phone and dialed the number of a construction company from the regional center:
“Hello, my name is Anna Morozova. I would like to order restoration of an old house and landscape design for the plot. I won’t spare money, quality and attention to detail are important.”
Six months later, the house was completely different: restored, painted, with a new roof and a neat garden. Flowerbeds, paths, gazebo — everything was lovingly restored. The house became what it was in the best times.
Anna did not return to the city. She stayed in Sosnovka, opened a small library in one of the premises, helped local residents, engaged in charity. She sold part of the gold, kept some as a family heirloom.
Mikhail tried to regain half the property through court — but lost. The divorce went quickly. Elena also filed claims, but the will was properly drafted, and the court sided with Anna.
Anna was happy. She found her purpose, gained confidence and independence. Grandfather was right: she really was special. She just needed time to understand it.
Every evening, sitting in the garden under the old apple tree, she thanked grandfather for his love, faith in her, and wisdom.
The treasure he left was not just gold. It was the key to a new, real life.
