“Chef, congratulations on your release.”
A door opens in front of me. I sit down in a comfortable seat, inhale the scent of an expensive lounge.
It’s hard to believe that prison has let me go.
“Did you gather files on my ex-wife? I want to know what she’s been doing all these five years. I want to know what she breathed, what she ate, and who she slept with.”
Mark nods and hands me a folder from the front seat.
I open it and start flipping through.
Well then, hello, Agatha. Missed me? Even if you didn’t—I’m sorry. I missed you—so much.
My eyes run along the lines. I’m ready to eat even her photo until I hit the words that make my heart get stuck in my throat.
“Here it says… she has a child. How old?”
“Four and a half years, Igor Nikolaevich. Her appearance is purely your own.”