Emina photographed the new kitchen to show her sister the blue tiles. Reflected in the window was an open folder on the table. She enlarged the picture to inspect a mark on the glass and recognized her name beneath an amount they had never agreed on. The kitchen was supposed to cost what they had saved by selling their old car. The document claimed she had agreed to repay almost as much again over the next two years.
She waited for Damir without switching on the light above the counter that he had shown her so proudly. His first question was whether something had burned out. When he saw the contract, he sat on the still wrapped bar stool. He said he had wanted everything finished before she returned from her seminar. The contractor needed an immediate decision, and the more expensive tiles were the last ones available in that color.
Emina ran her finger over the signature. Her surname contained a loop she never made. Damir had practiced it on a shopping receipt; she found it beneath the contract. That small scrap hurt her more than the price. There had not been a single hasty decision but time spent sitting at their table, trying to look enough like her. She asked how many attempts he had thrown away.
He replied that she was behaving as though a stranger had stolen something from her. Emina stood and opened the window because she could not catch her breath. Precisely because he was not a stranger, she had never locked away her documents. The next day she took the agreement to the contractor and clearly disputed the signature. Damir arrived later, his ears red. In front of the contractor, he admitted what he had done and asked for the obligation to be settled with him alone.
The contractor stopped the final order and referred the payment question to his office. Emina offered no answer and made no promise to contribute. She stayed with her sister for several days. Damir sent messages about the kitchen, then stopped when he understood she was not waiting for furniture updates. He sent a photograph of the agreed cancellation of the disputed contract and wrote that he understood why she still did not want to talk.
She returned for clothes one Sunday. His actual repayment plan lay on the table, without her name. They sat in the unfinished kitchen and talked for the first time about his fear of not earning enough. Emina listened, but she did not stay overnight. She still liked the blue tiles. It mattered to discover that she could love the color and refuse a price someone else had decided for her.