— No. I thought she was an ordinary beggar. But it turns out no one else saw her. I asked the parishioners this morning—they said there was no blind beggar at the church.
The investigator looked up from her notebook and looked at Valentina intently.
— So you’re claiming that you received a warning from a woman who may not have existed?
— I don’t know if she existed or not. But I talked to her. She held my hand. It was real.
The investigator said nothing, just made a note in her notebook. Valentina understood how it sounded: the ramblings of a madwoman. But she didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. She knew what had really happened.
When they finished with the testimony, the investigator said:
— Your husband will be released this evening on the condition that he doesn’t leave the city. He is forbidden to leave the city until the investigation and trial are over. But he can return home.
— I don’t want him to come back, — Valentina said firmly.
— That is your right. You can change the locks, not let him into the apartment. But legally, he has a right to this living space, so if he wants to, he can go to court.
— Let him. I’m going to divorce him. I’ll file for divorce today.
— That is your decision. I can recommend a good lawyer, if you need one.
Valentina took the lawyer’s business card, thanked her, and left. It was drizzling outside, the gray sky hung low, and dirty streams flowed along the sidewalks. She walked slowly, paying no attention to the rain or her soaking shoes. Divorce. After 30 years of marriage. A terrible, final word. But there was no other way. She couldn’t live with a man who was willing to betray her, rob her, abandon her.
On her way home, she stopped at a notary’s office and made an appointment. The notary saw her the same day, listened to her story, nodding sympathetically.
— A divorce at your request? Does your husband object?
— I don’t know if he objects or not. But I’m filing unilaterally.
— You can do that. The process will be longer if he objects, though. But given the circumstances—attempted theft, a criminal case—the court will side with you.
Valentina signed all the necessary documents and paid the state fee. The notary said the application would be filed with the court within a week. She returned home in the evening, soaked and tired, but with a strange sense of relief. The decision had been made. Life wasn’t over, it had just taken a different turn.
In the evening, Gennady called. Valentina stared at the number on the phone screen for a long time before answering.
— Yes.
— Valya, it’s me.
— I know.
— They let me go. On recognizance. Can I come home?
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