«And now the bride will gift her business to the groom!» — the emcee announced at the mother-in-law’s request, but instead of the deed, I played the video and the mother-in-law had to flee through the back door…….

That notary, he died two weeks ago. But in the system, his electronic signature is there. Anna looked at her, not understanding.

That is… That is, Ashley lowered her voice, the documents on share transfer and liquidation are signed by a dead man. This isn’t just falsification. This is serious criminal.

And someone is deliberately setting you up. If we raise a fuss now, they’ll turn everything against you. Say you pulled off the scam yourself, then hid.

Anna slowly raised her eyes. Horror grew in her chest. Everything happening wasn’t just betrayal.

This was a hunt. And she – not a victim. She – the target.

Then what do I do? Either we go forward, raise a fuss, prepare for war. Or you disappear for a while. Disappear.

For a couple of weeks, a month. Leave. Everything is frozen document-wise.

I and the lawyer take the case while you’re gone. Otherwise, you might end up in jail before the proceedings. Anna didn’t answer right away.

She didn’t want to run. Wanted to fight. But she had no protection, no big name, no money for good PR.

All she had was the truth. And truth, as it turned out, didn’t interest anyone much. Where? My aunt lives in the Midwest.

Small town. Quiet there. No attention.

I can arrange the departure, legally, on a tourist visa. While you’re there, we work here. And the business? Your business is dead on paper.

Until you get back at least control, it’s no one’s. Or someone’s. Right now, the main thing is not to lose you.

Anna lowered her head. Run. Again.

Like then, when she left home after a fight with her mother. Like when she hid from creditors. Only now she was running from her own name.

She nodded silently. Two days later, Anna stood at the station with a backpack and an old jacket. Without the dress.

Without makeup. Without the name on the cafe facade. In her passport, there was no mark except the marriage stamp, which now seemed like a black mark.

Ethan didn’t call anymore. Apparently, he knew she understood everything. It was cold on the train.

Outside the window flowed fields, wet trees, stations with peeling signs. She looked out the window, as if she could see the answer there. Where did she stumble? When did love turn into a contract? In the evening, when the train stopped in the small town, a woman in her sixties met her, Aunt Mary.

Kind, sturdy, with baker’s hands and eyes of someone who had seen a lot. She didn’t ask extra questions. Only said, it’s calm here.

No one asks where you’re from. The main thing is you know how to brew coffee. Anna nodded.

And the next week, she was already behind the counter of the local cafe, completely different, simple, cozy. People approached her, not knowing who she was. And didn’t ask why her eyes were like glass.

She lived like a ghost. Without a name. Without a history.

Breathed evenly, mechanically. Watched the days pass. Every evening, she got a report from Ashley: new threats, new documents, found errors.

Once she filed a statement with the prosecutor’s office, remotely, with the lawyer’s help. But there was no response. Only silence.

Thick and indifferent. And one evening, she received a photo. It was her, against the cafe background, with that very note.

Someone was watching. Someone knew where she went. Message under the photo: hiding won’t work.

Everything you did is now ours. And if you don’t shut up, the next photo won’t be yours. Under it, a photo of Ashley.

Taken from behind. In her house. Anna ran out into the street, stood in the middle of the silence.

Her fingers trembled, heart pounded like a drum. This was the limit. A split-second decision.

Without a plan. Without the lawyer’s consent. Without logic.

She returned home, opened the laptop, and recorded a video. Straight to messengers. Without light, with a shadow on her face…