In autumn, my stepmother told me that they were sending me to the boarding school of Mrs. Roll. Before that, I studied at home, and by the time I was sixteen I knew roughly the same things as most girls my age—but my tall uncle Edya, the brother of my late father, convinced my stepmother that I definitely needed a diploma. He visited Moscow rarely, played the role of a businessman and an all-knower, and couldn’t stand me. Meanwhile, my stepmother respected him and trusted him in everything. After each of his trips, she became stricter—though only for a while…