The cassette machine made a loud clicking noise.
Then she added: “There is another key hidden underneath your seat. Bring it to Paul. He holds the genuine documents. Do not put any trust in John. And Clara, if you are playing this, I deeply apologize for forcing you to live a fake life.”
I reached under the wooden seat and located a metal key stuck there, along with a sealed envelope containing a lawyer’s business address.
I stayed awake all night. By eight o’clock the following morning, I arrived at Paul’s legal office in the city.
The front desk worker tried to say he was unavailable until I slapped the key onto her counter and ordered, “Inform him that Mary sent me here.”
Just five minutes later, I was sitting inside a secure office across from an older gentleman wearing a gray suit and exhausted eyes.
He stared down at the small key and sighed, “I always prayed she would explain things to you before it came to this.”
“Do you know my real identity?”
“I do.”
