“What did you just say?” Anna froze, a cold knot tightening in her chest.
Sergey stood in the doorway, clutching his keys, his face stiff with irritation.
“I can’t live like this anymore,” he said again, his tone flat. “Neither can I, nor Mom. Pack up the kids and move to Lipovka. Grandma’s house still stands. You’ll make it.”
Ten years of marriage, three children—dismissed in a moment.
“Why—” she tried to ask, but he didn’t let her finish.
“I’m tired,” Sergey said, looking away. “Tired of the nagging, the whining, of you sitting at home all day. Mom’s right—you’ve turned into a hen. I don’t even recognize the woman I married.”
The children—Masha, Alyosha, and Kirill—were just beyond the wall. Anna feared they heard every word.
Sergey placed an envelope on the table.
“There’s money in here. And the house deed—it’s been yours for a while. You want to be independent? Prove it.”
The house in Lipovka greeted them with damp silence.
Anna stepped inside with sleepy Masha in her arms. Her heart sank.
Kirill opened the shutters quietly. The old stove still worked, and soon the warmth from the birch logs eased the chill.
That night, they all slept together in Grandma’s bed.
At sunrise, Anna slipped away from the children’s embrace and stepped outside. The yard was wild, overgrown, forgotten. She let out a hollow, bitter laugh. This was her new beginning.
Within a week, the money Sergey left was nearly gone. The roof leaked, the stove needed repairs, and there was no work to be found.
Determined, Anna turned to the garden. The land, though neglected, had once been fertile.
“Why are we doing this?” Kirill finally asked.
“We need space to think,” Anna replied gently. “Sometimes adults need time apart to understand—”
“Whether they still love each other,” Kirill finished, his voice far too wise for his age. “Is it because of that woman? The one at Dad’s party?”
Anna froze. Valeriya. Tall, elegant, always near Sergey. “Just a colleague,” he’d said.
“We’ll be okay, Mom,” Kirill said. “You and me. We’ll take care of the little ones.”
From then on, Anna worked in the garden daily, Masha and Alyosha helping where they could.
One afternoon, her shovel hit something hard. Curious, she dug with her hands and unearthed a heavy coin, ancient and gold, a king’s profile etched into it.
She pocketed it and kept digging. By evening, they’d found a dozen more.
The next morning, she called her Uncle Viktor from the nearby town.
“Golden coins?” he said, astonished. “Are they real?”
“I think so,” Anna replied. “They look old. Heavy.”
“Say nothing to anyone,” he instructed. “I’m coming.”
When he arrived, they laid out twenty-eight gold coins, a large cross, and three jeweled pendants. Uncle Viktor promised to keep it secret and put her in touch with a trusted antique dealer.
Two days later, Anna sat in the small antique office.
“I’ll offer ten million for everything,” the appraiser said, removing his magnifying glass. “Cash. Right now.”
That evening, Sergey called for the first time in weeks.
“Mom wants to sell the cottage. You could move there. Closer to the city…”
Anna felt the heat rise in her chest.
“I’ve got plans now,” she said calmly. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
She returned to the garden the next day. By nightfall, they had found more coins. Then, while digging near the compost pile, Kirill stumbled on a rusted metal safe.
Inside were cloth bags. Gold coins. More jewelry.
Anna called Uncle Viktor.
“I want to start a museum,” she said. “A Levitsky family museum. Right here in Lipovka.”
One year later, Anna stood at the door of that very museum, welcoming guests. Above her, a sign read The History of the Levitsky Family. The old house had been restored, the village revived.
Thanks to a grant from a university historian, the old mill became part of the museum complex. Anna’s home was now a cozy café-library where locals gathered.
She reported the treasure a month after the first discovery. Archaeologists uncovered more. Half the treasure went to the state, the other half to Anna, as the landowner.
Each Friday, Sergey returned. He stayed the weekend but still slept at a neighbor’s house.
They were rebuilding, slowly, through honest talks, shared work, and quiet family dinners.
“Mom! Dad!” the kids shouted. “Uncle Viktor brought new seedlings!”
Anna and Sergey exchanged a look and took each other’s hands.
