One last thing

The clock read 10:58 PM. Maria was getting nervous: the table was set, everything was set, and still no guests... The tipsy neighbors had been buzzing for a good hour, and Chinese fireworks were constantly exploding in the streets, but she was in no mood for fun. You see, it's just impossible to have fun alone. She dialed Marinka's number again and again: unreachable, unreachable. And who said they'd be here by ten o'clock? After Marinka, she dialed everyone else—also unreachable. Blaming it on the phone operators, Maria opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. Before she could take a sip, the doorbell rang. Smiling happily, she opened the door for her guests.

The usual cheerful noise and hubbub that characterizes the Russian New Year began. Masha was immediately presented with a huge, beautiful card, but they didn't let her read it. Everyone was already quite tipsy, except for the driver, Alexei. Marinka had already managed to get into a heated argument with her husband, Nikolai (this was a common occurrence for them, even as long as they lived together). Katya was barely holding on to her restless husband, Mikhail, who kept trying to light a sparkler that appeared out of nowhere.

Finally, Maria managed to calm everyone down and get them seated at the table. She looked at her watch: 11:18 p.m. She raised her glass first: "Let's hurry up and bid farewell to the old year; there are only forty minutes left until the new one." The toast was enthusiastically received, and soon a second, a third, and a fourth were offered. Before anyone could even look around, it was already 11:56 p.m. Everyone immediately started searching for the remote control: everyone was squealing about the president's congratulations. Having finished his short speech, the president raised a glass of champagne. The chimes appeared on the television. The whole group raised their glasses and began chanting, "Happy New Year!" When the chimes struck twelve, Maria was the only one screaming. The others fell silent, smiling.

"Guys, what's wrong?" Maria asked, surprised.

After a brief silence, Nikolai replied:

"A roadside favor!"

"What roadside favor? Guys, what are you talking about? It's New Year's!" Masha replied, smiling.

"A roadside favor!" everyone else echoed Nikolai.

Maria looked at her friends in amazement:

"What kind of joke is this? What kind of joke is this?"

"You know, Masha," said the sober driver, Alexei. "It's time for us to go. Sorry. That's why we were drinking roadside favors."

"Yeah, yeah! It's time for us to go!" the others chimed in.

Maria just blinked in surprise. She thought, "Have they prepared some kind of surprise?" Everyone wished her happiness, good luck, and love in the New Year and left. She waited ten minutes. Twenty. Thirty. No one returned. Maria took a bottle of champagne, sat down on the sofa, and began to slowly sip it while watching television. When she finished it, tears welled up in her eyes. "Why did they do this to me...?"

Suddenly the phone rang. She smiled: after all, they hadn't abandoned me. But no, the screen flashed: "Anya."

"Hello?"

"Masha! This is a nightmare! I haven't been able to reach you for two hours! Why haven't you called and told me?"

"Called what? What did you say?" Maria asked, astonished.

"Are you crazy?! Marina, Kolya, Katya, Misha, and Lesha are gone!"

"What do you mean, they left me half an hour ago..."

Someone started crying on the other end.

"Masha, what's wrong?" Why are you making fun of me? They crashed at twenty past eleven, the car veered into a ditch, caught fire, and they couldn't save anyone... And you're saying..." Anya choked on her sobs and hung up.

Confused, Masha went to the kitchen for a bottle of vodka and, as she walked down the hallway, noticed a postcard on the table. Oh yeah, they never let her read it. Now she could. Closing the card, she walked wobbly into the kitchen, poured herself a shot, and drank it right away. The postcard, besides the banal printed greeting, read:

"Sorry it happened this way, it's not our fault. But don't worry. We'll see you soon, since you forgot to lock the door. Happy New Year!"

Strange sounds were heard near the front door, simultaneously similar and unlike the sound of footsteps in the usual sense. It sounded more like the footsteps of a broken mannequin. The door opened. The smell of burnt meat permeated the apartment. Masha turned away from the door and filled her glass. The "footsteps" were getting closer. Masha closed her eyes and raised her glass.

The "footsteps" stopped behind her.

"One last farewell!" she managed to whisper, barely managing to whisper.