“What do you need?” I step back. “My husband,” a beautiful brunette smiles with vulgar red lips. She looks as if she truly came for something that’s hers. She pushes me aside and carries two enormous suitcases into our house. “Marsik—my little boy”—my son stretches out his chubby hand on instinct and strokes the expensive fur of his mink coat. Liana—his two-year-old little sister—smiles with “daddy’s” brown eyes and reaches for the hem of the fur too, trying to pull out a couple of tufts. The twins adore soft toys. “By the way, Bestuzhev told you that ‘this’ is also mine!” The woman traces my children with her finger. After three years of a happy marriage, Ksenia learns that her life had been nothing but a farce. Everything collapses in an instant. She has to not only get her own back, but also grow up—become different.