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My hand trembled, and the cup clinked slightly against the saucer. A familiar face appeared on the screen—painfully familiar, though a bit aged, but still as confidently impeccable.
“The head of ‘RomanovGroup’ is suspected of major financial frauds.” And below, in small print: “Discussions continue around the strange disappearance of his bride 15 years ago.”
I paced the rental apartment, phone pressed to my ear. Lena, the only one I trusted with the truth, spoke quickly and insistently:
“Nastya, listen! His company is under close scrutiny, he’s never been so vulnerable. This is your chance to take back your life!”
“What life? The one where I was a frivolous girl, nearly a murderer’s victim?”
“No, the one where you are Anastasia Vitalyevna Sokolova, not some Vera from a coffee shop!”
I paused in front of the mirror. The woman looking back at me had grown older and more cautious. Silver threads had started to appear in my hair, and a steely gleam shone in my eyes.
“Lena, his mother saved my life then. How is she now?”
“Vera Nikolaevna is in a nursing home. Sergey has long distanced her from the company’s affairs. They say she asked too many questions.”
The nursing home “Golden Autumn” was located in a scenic area just outside the city limits. Posing as a social worker (the necessary papers were easily accessible thanks to my savings), I was easily led to Vera Nikolaevna.
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