«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…….

Simply said, my name is Anna. I’m an entrepreneur. My business was stolen.

My name was used. My signature forged. And I’m no longer afraid.

She told about everything. About the wedding. About the documents.

About the blackmail. About the dead notary. Showed papers, screenshots, dates.

Didn’t cry. Spoke calmly. Too calmly, like a person who had been through breaking.

If you’re watching this video, and something happens to me, it means they don’t want the truth to come out. But now you know. She didn’t know what it would give.

Maybe nothing. But it was her choice. Irreversible.

She pressed «Send» and posted the video on the old business page of the cafe. Where there used to be photos of cappuccinos, now a cry for help. That same night, a call rang.

Not a number. A voice. «You’re playing with fire,» it said.

Male. Stranger. You have one last chance to delete everything.

Tomorrow. Or it will be worse. For her.

Anna knew who he meant. Ashley. «If you touch her,» she whispered, — «I’ll make sure everyone knows about you.»

I’m not afraid to die. But I won’t forgive. Beeps.

She sat, hugging her head with her hands. Everything inside tore. Her heart beat alarm.

She couldn’t stop anymore. Made a step that couldn’t be rolled back. In the morning, she was woken by the sound of a police siren.

They came. But not for her. They came because three calls came to the hotline from different cities.

People started sharing the video. Someone noticed the same scheme in their stories. Names in documents matched.

She looked out the window at the officers standing by the car. They weren’t enemies. But she knew today everything would change.

In which direction, unknown yet. She slowly put on her jacket and went out into the street. The cold hit her face.

Snow was starting to fall. White, clean, as if promising that everything could still be returned. But the price for it was already set.

Snow settled on her shoulders in a thin blanket while Anna stood by the car with the police. One of them was young, too young, with awkward politeness in his voice and eyes that read something like regret. The second, older, more silent, hardly looked her in the eyes.

— Are you Anna Thompson? — he asked. She nodded, restrained. For a second, her heart squeezed: they came not for the enemies.

They came for her. — We ask you to come with us. — There are questions about the video you published.

— This may be related to a case of document falsification. — No charges against you. — Yet.

The word «yet» hung in the air like a splinter. Anna understood this wasn’t a summons for questioning. This was a check.

The first, serious one. Someone had already turned the system against her. The station smelled of old coffee and paper.

They led Anna to a small office and left her to wait. She looked at the desk, at the chipped chair handle, at the wall with city maps. Words from the video swirled in her head.

She didn’t regret posting it. But now it seemed as if someone had already twisted it, presented it differently. The door opened.

A woman in her forties entered, in a strict suit, with smoothly combed hair. Documents in hand, cold gaze. She sat opposite.

I’m Investigator Harris. We have a statement that you are deliberately spreading false accusations and slander to obstruct the official liquidation of the coffee business. She opened the folder and pulled out a copy of the statement.

Submitted on behalf of Ashley Malone. Anna didn’t understand right away. The name pierced like a needle under the nail.

She even asked again, excuse me, who? Ashley Malone. Listed as your former business partner. Attached are her screenshots of correspondences where she allegedly warned you of possible legal consequences, and you refused to cooperate.

The world swayed. This is a mistake. She’s my friend.

She helped me. Until the last moment, well, the investigator calmly handed the second document. Judging by the records, it was from her email on the day of the video publication that letters with your internal data were sent: bank transfers, accounting tables, even passport scans.

Recipients – private individuals, including, by the way, media representatives. Anna leaned back in the chair. Her chest felt crushed by a slab.

She couldn’t breathe. «No,» she whispered. «This can’t be her.»

«We have no grounds to claim you acted in collusion with her,» the investigator continued. «But now we have two conflicting statements, two versions of events. And you’ll need to prove you didn’t know about your assistant’s actions.»

Anna said nothing. Because she couldn’t. Her head pounded from inside, as if her whole body became a drum.

She remembered how Ashley sat next to her, held her hand, offered help, found connections. Helped, but knew everything. Knew everything.

When the interrogation ended, Anna left the building in complete silence. Her fingers trembled. Outside, evening was starting, snow crunching underfoot.

She dialed Ashley’s number, not believing she was pressing the call button. «Hi,» answered the familiar voice. Confident.

Calm. «You, is this true?» Pause. «And what exactly?» The voice became a bit harder.

«You submitted the statement?» «Leaked my data?» «Why?» «Anna, you don’t understand how this system works. I tried to protect you. But when you posted the video without consulting me, you put everyone at risk.

You and me. You dragged me into a public conflict. I have a job, family.

I wasn’t going to be the heroine of your revenge. Anna listened and didn’t believe. The voice was the same…