Zsanna raised her son alone, and perhaps that’s why she considered him her own property.
Therefore, when he saw Misya pleasantly chatting with the tenant in the kitchen and enjoying his pancakes, he literally froze in surprise.
And it would be nice if he had just eaten the pancakes! This little boy was STILL looking at that peasant girl.
Zsanna Igorevna almost turned gray on the spot from this discovery…
“My son has no taste at all!” an incredible thought flashed through his head.
…From that moment on, Zhanna hated her tenant.
He didn’t wash the floor so well anymore, his speech wasn’t good, and even the pancakes didn’t seem so delicious.
But what Jeanne didn’t like the most was the way her son, her precious blood, looked at this gray-haired peasant girl with loving eyes…
“He never looked at me like that, his mother, his only close relative!” he thought indignantly as he cried into his pillow at night.
“Who did I let into the house?!” she sobbed into the phone, sharing her problems with her close friend, the similarly lonely, elderly Irina Viktorovna. “I never thought Misia would look at me! That’s why I let this Lizka in! Then she flutters her eyelashes, ruffles her hair, and charms me with pancakes!”
Irina listened, sighed, hummed, and then expressed her authoritarian opinion:
“Oh, be careful, Zhanka, she will end up really charming your son!”
With these words, Irina only further exacerbated the misunderstanding that was beginning to develop between the landlady and the tenant.
It wasn’t that Zhanna believed in witchcraft… It was just the mere thought of a strange woman stealing her son’s attention that kept her from calming down.
All day long he wondered what to do, how to get his son used to this peasant girl.
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