With mechanical movements, Katya began to prepare dinner. The sounds in the kitchen merged into a monotonous rhythm: the clatter of the knife against the cutting board, the sizzle of oil in the pan, the hum of the refrigerator. From the nursery came the muffled laughter of the children, and the old clock on the wall counted down the minutes with inexorable precision. All these sounds, so familiar and once so cozy, now only emphasized the tension that hung in the air.

– Mom, can you help us with our homework? – Masha, the eldest daughter, looked into the kitchen.

Katya sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. "Of course, sweetie. I'll be right there."

She settled with the children at the dining room table, sorting out math problems and helping with reading. Suddenly the front door lock clicked. Katya flinched, feeling her shoulders tense.

Sasha entered the apartment without raising his eyes. He threw a short "Hello" and went straight to his office without even looking at the children.

– Dad, will you see how I learned to read? – timidly asked Masha.

– Not now, – Sasha threw over his shoulder, closing the office door behind him.

Katya caught herself clenching her fists. A memory flashed before her eyes: Sasha, laughing and tossing little Masha in the air. Where had that time gone? When their home was filled with laughter and warmth?

– Mom, why is Dad so sad? – quietly asked the youngest, Misha.

Katya stroked her son's head, trying to find words. "Daddy is very tired at work, sunshine. Let's not bother him, okay?"

The children fell silent, as if sensing the tension in the air. Katya tried to concentrate on their homework, but her thoughts kept returning to Sasha's cold stare.

After dinner, when the children had already gone to bed, Katya started cleaning the kitchen. The monotonous action was soothing, allowing her to forget her anxious thoughts for a while. But then her ears caught Sasha's muffled voice from the study.

– Yes, I understand… No, you'll need to apply for a visa in advance… Israel? Yes, that's a possible option…

Katya froze, listening to the fragments of phrases. Her heart beat faster. What was he talking about? Why would he need a visa to Israel? He had never traveled on business trips. Besides, what could a doctor do in Israel? She tiptoed toward the office door, trying to catch more information.

– No, she doesn't know yet… Yes, I understand the risks…

Goosebumps ran through Katya's body. She instinctively realized that the "she" Sasha had dropped was referring to her. Katya felt a lump come to her throat. What was Sasha hiding from her? She couldn't stand the suspense any longer. When Sasha's voice faded, she opened the door with determination.

– Yes?" her husband's voice sounded irritated.

Katya entered the office. Sasha was sitting at his computer, clearly unhappy about the intrusion.

– We need to talk," Katya said firmly.

– About what? – Sasha didn't even turn to her.

– About what's going on. About your secret conversations. About visas to Israel.

Sasha turned around sharply, a flash of surprise in his eyes that quickly changed to anger.

– You were eavesdropping?

– I overheard. But that's not the point. What are you hiding from me?

Sasha stood up, his face contorted with anger. "You're being paranoid, Katya. I was just discussing work matters."

– Work issues include getting visas to Israel? – Katya felt anger boiling up inside.

– Don't be ridiculous. You don't know what you want. One minute you're bored here, the next you're clinging to this life.

– Me? Clinging? – Katya's voice shook with indignation. – You're the one who's always complaining about life in Russia, about the lack of prospects for development, the lack of science. And now you're plotting something behind my back!

Their voices grew louder and louder, and suddenly the office door opened. Misha's small head slipped through the gap.

– Mommy, can I have some water?

Katya and Sasha were instantly silent, exchanging glances. Katya was the first to pull herself together.

– Let's go to the kitchen, she said with a degree of annoyance at the interrupted conversation.

When she returned to the study, Sasha was hurriedly shoving some papers into his briefcase.

– What is it? – Katya asked, feeling everything inside her clench.

– Nothing. Work documents. I have to leave, – Sasha zipped up the briefcase and headed for the exit.

In a fit of desperation, Katya grabbed the briefcase. "Tell me, where are you going? No, you're not going anywhere until we talk!"

Sasha yanked the briefcase toward him; Katya wouldn't let go. At some point the clasp failed, and the contents of the briefcase scattered on the floor. Among the scattered papers Katya saw a glossy booklet with a Hebrew inscription and a picture of Tel Aviv.

There was a heavy silence. Katya stared at the booklet, unable to believe her eyes. Sasha, quickly coming to his senses, began to pick up the scattered papers.

– It's not what you think," he muttered, avoiding Katya's gaze.

– What should I think? – she asked quietly, feeling tears coming to her throat, that you don't think you should inform me about the impending move?

Sasha silently gathered his things, including the unfortunate booklet, and quickly left the apartment, leaving Katya alone among the scattered papers and shattered illusions.

She slowly sank down on the sofa, feeling her legs fill with lead. She was losing her balance. Around her, the silence of the empty apartment was frozen, broken only by the ticking of the second hand of the old clock. They were beating the rhythm of her drowning in hopelessness. Katya looked around the room, where every thing kept the memory of their life together. An old armchair, bought with Sasha's first paycheck. A fancy floor lamp given to her for her birthday. All these objects, once symbolizing their common future, now seemed like mute witnesses to the collapse of their family.

Katya went to the window. The headlights of cars passing at breakneck speed, trying to cross the intersection on the flashing green light, flickered behind the glass. Somewhere out there, far away, among those lights of the city, immersed in sleep, was Igor. There was another world, full of possibilities and hopes. For the first time in a long time, Katya felt not only fear of the unknown, but also a strange, pinching sense of anticipation. Perhaps this night was not the end, but the beginning of something new in her life.

Just beyond the old factory building where she worked was a stunning view of the sandy beaches of the Gulf of Finland. The creative masterminds, the mass-entertainers of their organization this year, outfitted the area for inflatable kites, involving everyone they could in the sport. Those who couldn't be dragged into the water were invited to what they considered to be a child's entertainment – launching a practice kite on the roof.

Katya did not want to reveal her talents in water kiting, so she joined the majority of the female part of the group and quickly rushed up the outside stairs to the roof.

The wind fluttered her hair. A sea of colorful kites spread out before her, dancing in the sky above the old factory chimneys. The contrast between the modern kiting ground and the time-worn building made Katya think about her own life, stuck between the past and the future.

She looked around uncertainly at her colleagues who were happily preparing their kites. The sounds of laughter and lively conversations mingled with the sound of the wind, creating an atmosphere of freedom that was sorely lacking in her daily life.