… — her voice broke.
Anna stopped by a taxi, opened the door, and got into the back seat.
— To the city, 23 Mira Street, — she told the driver and pressed the phone to her ear again. — Olga, can you meet me right now? This is very important. Very.
— I’m at work, but I’ll step out for you. What happened?
— My husband is trying to sell our apartment behind my back. I have documents, proof. I need to block everything immediately, revoke a power of attorney I never gave, file a report. I don’t know what else. Will you help me?
— My God, Anna! Of course, I’ll help. Come to my office, you remember the address? I’ll free myself up now and wait for you. Just bring all the documents you have. And your passport. And everything related to the apartment.
— Thank you, Olga. Thank you.
The taxi started moving. Anna leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. Her hands were still shaking. Her mind was foggy, but one clear thought broke through: she found out in time. She could stop this. She wouldn’t let herself be deceived.
The taxi sped through the city, and Anna stared out the window, seeing nothing. The same thoughts swirled in her head: how could he? 20 years together. Two children. A shared life, shared memories. And just like that, to betray her? For money? For an apartment?
She took the documents out of her bag and scanned the lines again. The power of attorney was dated three days ago. That meant Igor had planned this in advance. He didn’t buy the trip out of care or love. He wanted to get her out of the way while he carried out the deal. Two weeks in Turkey — enough time to sell the apartment, get the money, and maybe even hide it so she would never find it.
The phone rang. The name “Igor” lit up the screen. Anna stared at it for a few seconds, then declined the call. A minute later, a message arrived: “Anya, did you get on the plane? How was check-in?”. She didn’t reply. She put the phone back in her bag. Let him think everything was going according to plan. Let him think she was already in the air, flying to Turkey, suspecting nothing.
Olga’s office was in the city center, in an old brick building on the third floor. Anna paid the driver, jumped out of the car, and practically ran up the stairs. The door had a sign: “Morozova O.V. Legal Consultation”. She pushed the door and entered. Olga was already waiting for her in her office. A tall, slim woman in her fifties, in a smart suit, with a short haircut and attentive brown eyes. She stood up from her desk and hugged Anna.
— Sit down. Tell me everything from the beginning.
Anna sat in the chair opposite her and began to talk. About the sudden trip, Igor’s strange behavior, the meeting with the cleaning lady at the airport, the documents. Olga listened in silence, occasionally nodding, making notes in her notepad. When Anna finished, she handed her friend the folder with the papers. Olga put on her glasses and carefully examined the power of attorney and the purchase agreement. Her face remained calm, professional, but Anna saw how her lips tightened.
— This is a forgery, — Olga said, pointing to the signature. — Your signature looks different, I’ve seen your documents. And the date is strange — three days ago, but you say you weren’t at a notary’s office.
— I wasn’t. I never gave any power of attorney. Ever.
— Good. That’s important. It means your husband forged the documents. That’s already a crime: document forgery, fraud. But we need to act quickly. First, we’re going to a notary right now and making a statement to revoke all powers of attorney that might have been issued in your name. Even if there weren’t any, the statement will be in the database, and if Igor tries to use this fake, the notary will see that the power of attorney has been revoked.
— What if he already did it? If he’s already processed everything?
