“Anna Vasilyevna, are you not feeling well? Can I get you some water?”
“Thank you, Sveta, no need. I’m just stepping out for five minutes.”
She pressed the elevator call button, and a few seconds later, the doors slid open soundlessly. The mirrored walls of the cabin reflected her pale face with beads of sweat on her forehead. Anna didn’t recognize herself: she usually looked composed and well-groomed, but now she appeared sick and exhausted.
After reaching the ground floor, Anna stepped out of the business center. The air hit her face with a light breeze, carrying the scent of blooming buds. But it brought no relief. On the contrary, her weakness intensified. Her legs refused to obey, everything was a blur before her eyes, and she barely managed to make it to the nearest bench at the entrance of a small park next to the building.
Anna sank onto the wooden seat, closing her eyes. Her heart continued to pound as if it wanted to break out of her chest. She tried to breathe deeper, but each breath was a struggle. There was a ringing in her ears, and the world swam before her eyes. In the distance, she could hear the voices of passersby, the noise of cars, someone’s laughter. But it all seemed unreal, as if happening in another dimension.
“What is happening to me?”
She fluttered her eyelids open and saw the blurry outline of a person leaning over her. The man was elderly, in his seventies, wearing a simple gray jacket and a knitted hat. His wrinkled face expressed concern, and his hands, strong despite his age, reached for her wrist.
“What are you doing?” Anna snatched her hand away, frightened.
“It’s a gift from my husband!”
The man didn’t back down. He looked at her intently, almost studying her, and said quietly:
“You feel ill because of this bracelet. Look here.”
Anna glanced down at her wrist in confusion. A thin metal bracelet, which Vladimir had given her three months ago, shimmered there. An elegant chain with small magnetic inserts, as he explained, was supposed to improve blood circulation and support heart function. The bracelet was expensive. Vladimir had ordered it through an acquaintance, assuring her it wasn’t just jewelry but a genuine medical device.
“You wear this constantly,” the old man continued. “And you shouldn’t.”
“How do you know?” Anna’s voice trembled. “Who are you anyway? Why were you trying to take off my bracelet?”
The man straightened up, pulling a worn-out ID in a dark red cover from his pocket.
“Arseny Petrovich Volsky. I’m a doctor. Or rather, I was a doctor before I retired. I worked as a cardiologist for forty years at City Hospital Number Seven. And I’ve seen many cases where such jewelry did more harm than good.”
Anna struggled to focus on the document. The old doctor’s ID, issued back in the nineties, indeed confirmed his words. A photo of a young man with a serious gaze, a stamp, the chief physician’s signature.
“But my husband said the bracelet helps,” she argued weakly. “He wouldn’t…” Her voice wavered and broke off.
Arseny Petrovich shook his head, sitting down next to her on the bench.
“Listen, young lady. I don’t know who your husband is or what he told you. But I see your condition. You can barely breathe, you’re as pale as a sheet, and your hands are shaking. This is not just fatigue. Take off the bracelet for at least an hour, and you will feel the difference.”
Anna hesitated. Vladimir had always insisted that she wear the bracelet without taking it off. He said the effect was only achieved with constant use. Every morning he would check if she had it on and would get upset if he noticed she had forgotten. Once, she took it off before a shower and forgot to put it back on. Vladimir only noticed in the evening and became very agitated, spending almost an hour explaining how important it was to wear the bracelet constantly.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “My husband said I shouldn’t take it off.”
The man sighed.
“Alright. Let’s do this then. How long have you been wearing it?”
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