She put the last dish on top of the dishes and sighed with exhaustion. When she was sure the kitchen was clean, she went to the bathroom to wash the pile of dirty clothes.

   “Mom! Andrew doesn’t give me my car!”

   “This is my car!”

   “Dad bought it for me!”

The woman gave her two sons a tired look and walked without a word to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

 There was only one day left until Christmas, and as the daughter-in-law of the eldest son of the family, she had the duty to organize a magnificent party and to welcome her husband's family well. They would stay until the end of the holiday and leave all their chores to her, including cooking, washing clothes and everything else. Their reason was simple: the holiday should be fun! But no one ever asked her if she wanted to enjoy the holiday or not.

 She finished washing the clothes and went back to the kitchen to cook. She had to prepare the dough for the bread and pastries now for tomorrow, otherwise the bread would not be tasty enough, and her husband was very strict about such things.

 When she finally managed to finish her work before midnight, after making sure that her children were asleep, went to her husband's room to read the novel she had hidden.

Of course, she was not allowed to read any books. How could she read books when many girls could barely finish even their high school education? The only thing girls were allowed to learn was how to cook excellent food, clean the house, wash clothes with a minimum of soap, and raise children.

   So whenever she could, she would save a few coins, and when she could afford a book, she would secretly buy it with her groceries.

  Her favorite content was novels in which the main character, after fighting the injustices that others had imposed on her, finally found peace and happiness and led a peaceful life. Could she also one day achieve the peace he always thought of? Did she deserve it? She felt that an ordinary person like her did not have the necessary qualifications to express here desires and that it was better to live in silence than to disturb the peace of her family and those around her in order to achieve the lifestyle she wanted.

   The author of the novel had a pseudonym called “Fall”, and she had used this word many times in his serial novels. It was as if he wanted to acquaint readers with his cold and joyless life, otherwise the amount of sadness and sorrow in his writings would not be in keeping with the life of an ordinary person.

   When she heard the doorbell ring, she shifted in her seat and realized that she had been lost in the lines of the book for nearly 3 hours. She quickly hid the book under the couch and went out into the hallway to find her wife drunk again.

   “Hey, why didn't you come sooner? Can't you see I can't walk?”

   Her husband said angrily, putting all his weight on his thin and skinny wife.

   The woman knew that she wasn't allowed to talk, so she dragged him to the couch by the fireplace and went into the kitchen to make her husband's favorite coffee.

   Almost every night, the situation was the same. After an early dinner, the man would go out with his friends and come home drunk and confused at midnight. At the beginning of their marriage, the woman had no idea how to deal with a drunk husband in the middle of the night, so she would get beaten up a lot, but now, after 8 years, she had learned how to behave like a shadow of life and also like a maid.

   After the coffee was ready, she poured it into the man's favorite cup and returned to the living room to face her sleeping husband. The moment she was about to put the tray containing the coffee on the table, her husband rolled over in his sleep and his foot got caught in the woman's foot. The woman, who was not expecting such a thing, fell to the ground uncontrollably with the tray, and a terrible sound was heard as the metal tray fell and the cup broke.

   The man jumped up in a panic and looked at what had happened. For a few seconds, the woman forgot to breathe, but just when she wanted to apologize, the man angrily beat the woman.

   “You can't even make coffee and you call yourself a woman? What kind of disaster have you created? Now you've reached the point where you're breaking my favorite cup? Didn't you know that my grandfather gave me this cup?”

   The man shouted his sentences with every punch and kick, and the children watched from the second-floor hallway, scared and crying, as their mother was beaten.

   The man, as if he had an idea, went to the small room next to the kitchen and returned with his hunting rifle.

   The terrified woman, having no words to beg, pulled back, but when she heard the deafening sound of the shot and the terrible pain in her right shoulder, she screamed loudly.

   “Oh, was the heart on the right or the left?”

   The man whispered as if talking to himself and looked at his crying sons.

   “Do you know if the heart was on the right or the left? Did I shoot right?”

   Meanwhile, the neighbors, who had woken up from the sound of the woman being beaten, rushed into the house upon hearing the shot to protect the wounded and helpless woman from the man.

When the woman felt the presence of the neighbor women next to her, her eyes went black and she passed out.

   When she regained consciousness, the pain in her shoulder was less, but the bruising on her body was more noticeable.

   “My dear granddaughter, have you regained consciousness?”

   What had happened? When had her grandmother arrived there?

   “Grandma...”

   The grandmother hushed the woman in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of the people outside the room, and leaned towards her granddaughter.

   “Listen to what I'm saying. There's a carriage waiting for you behind the house. You'll take this carriage to Paris and live in the house I rented for you. I'll come to you later, but for now you need to be alone so you don't attract attention.”

   The woman, confused by her grandmother's words, tried to sit down and analyze her words.

   Grandma, didn't you have Alzheimer's?”

   The grandmother, who had noticed her granddaughter's confusion at her precise phrasing, nodded.

   “No, I pretended to have Alzheimer's so that your grandfather wouldn't have anything to do with me. Before, I was supposed to be your grandfather's wife, but now I just sit in my room and write novels without anyone disturbing me when your grandfather brings his mistresses home. Who expects someone with Alzheimer's to cook and wash clothes?”

   The shocked woman stared at her grandmother for her unparalleled tact. The grandmother took advantage of the silence and showed the woman her favorite novel, which seemed to have been found by one of her husband's nosy relatives.

   “I am the author of this novel. It seems you like my writing.”

   The grandmother smiled kindly and helped her still shocked granddaughter out of bed so that she could escape.

   First, she took a look at the hallway, and when she was sure that everyone was downstairs, she took her granddaughter's arm and they walked past the hunting rifle that was stained with the woman's blood and was placed next to the ugly orange-cream wall.

   The woman, who knew that she no longer had a place in this house and had no attachment to the village that had only given her bad memories, went out the back door of the house and got into the carriage with the help of her grandmother.

   “Don't worry about your sons, you know that your husband will raise them well and will soon find another mother for them. Go and achieve your dreams and don't worry about anything because you haven't lost anything.”

   “Thank you, grandma, I will never forget this kindness of yours.”

   The woman said with tears, and the grandma ran her hand through her granddaughter's curly hair for the last time.

   “We will see each other soon, but until then, take care of yourself.”

   When the carriage started moving, the grandma returned home and, as always, pretended to be forgetful and not know her name, just as she did not know where her granddaughter had run away.